i've got readers from some awesome places; Denmark, Turkey, Malaysia, China.... i feel so international and super-starry.
it's hard to write while a 7 month old baby claws at your skin, drools all over you, and attempts to scoop out your eyeball with his freakishly strong fingers. i guess he feels like i'd make a cool pirate. or that i'd look good in an eye-patch. he's probably a zombie. that's the more likely explanation.
Husband wants to have a thousand babies. so he can give his genes "a giant jump on the future" as he puts it. i told him it's a tall order. too tall for a girl as short as i. i mean, i gave him one and it nearly killed me. i might be able to pull off two, three if he's lucky. but he's going to have to sperm-bank-donor-surrogate-lady the other 997 babies. maybe we could hire that "19 kids and counting" chick. she seems to have this Mass Child Creation/Production down to a science. but i am NOT changing all those diapers. i'm much rather change the litter boxes for one thousand cats.
Uck. wait, no. maybe neither of those.
Though I think that the worse scenario would be changing diapers on a thousand kittens. that's way too many sharp pointy things aimed at my nurturing hands as they attempt to change the diapers.
my husband is so very helpful. he decided to aide me in dinner-making this evening. i had two steaks in the fridge that had been marinating since yesterday night, and they were good and ready for cookin.
so Husband takes them and BOILS them in OIL. boils them.
in oil.
that was three hours ago and the house is still full of eye-stinging-poison-smoke. my husband is trying to kill me. and all because i gave him a teensy bit of life-threatening food poisoning during Birthiversary week. and because I refuse to pop out the other 999 babies that he has his heart set on.
I feel like this is a very disproportionate reaction.
we now have a Mr Coffee. i finally feel like an adult. i've found that i rather enjoy having a cup of coffee in the morning. well, maybe "enjoy" is the wrong word. i'm glad that i have a drug that is legal that i can pump into my guts that will effectively counteract my exhaustion from lack of sleep due to my son's aversion to nocturnal rest. Mike says it sounds like i'm describing myself as one of The Undead. Maybe i am a zombie. Ronin is a Zombie Baby after all. and he decided today that not only does he like to eat my chin, but he thinks it's hilarious when i eat his chin.
And now, a few letters.
Dear Rachel McAdams;
Please be my not-so-secret girlfriend. You seem completely accessible, and i'm pretty sure that you'd think that i'm The Proverbial Shit. So, don't tell Ryan Gosling and i won't tell Mike and we can live happily ever after going shopping for killer deals cuz i don't like spending money, and eating homemade cupcakes.
Think about it,
Krista
Dear Biscoff Cookies,
Oh tasty little lumps of love, you are divine. you were, up until yesterday, my only reason for flying Delta. my family thinks that i took airplanes to see them but you and i know the real truth. i was just using "visiting" as an excuse to get free coffee and a package of you to dip in it. my WONDERFUL husband got me a WHOLE big package of you for my morning coffee so that i can eat you and get all fat. well, fatter.
With shame-tainted love,
Krista
Dear Curling,
You are not a sport. If anything, you should be relabeled "Agressive Sweeping". with big marbles.
No need to argue with me,
Krista
Dear Tv Show The Biggest Loser;
You are inspiring to me. I promise that this season that i'll be... alternatively inspired than in previous seasons. I promise to get up and move around while i watch instead of camping out on the couch for two hours eating whole pizzas and towers of oreos. I promise to still be critical of the Bitchy Girls and laugh at the individuals who "give up" and who try to "play the game" instead of getting healthy, but i will not eat a cheeseburger whilst i do so. This way i'll feel less like a Judgemental Lard and more like a Self-Righteous SuperModel. Hell, maybe i'll even develop a sweet case of anorexia nervosa while i watch this season. We'll just have to see how i feel. Love you!!
Yours as long as NBC blesses us with your presence,
Krista
Dear Breastmilk,
I wish you filtered out "get skinny now" pills. because i'd love to "get skinny now". Work on that. or go away. whichever one you want, but freakin pick one.
Sincerely,
Krista
Hoffman,
Dude, i'm still mad at you for urinating over everything in my dream the other night and preventing me from getting my sexy on with two other sexies. How dare you. Punk.
Go to hell,
Krista
y'all come back now, y'hear?
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
WARNING! icky content. and boiled taquitos.
my husband asks me to do things.
odd things.
and then he has the audacity to be surprised when i actually do these things. for example, once he dared me to spit in his mouth, claiming that terrible things would happen if i did. but i'm no Wimpy McYella so i did. he had the audacity to get mad at me after i'd expectorated into his orifice. his surprise was unfounded; i told him i'd do it.
today i asked him how he wanted his taquitos cooked. boiled? baked? fried? grilled? and he said he wanted his taquitos boiled.
"now honey, you know better than to ask me to do things like that, cuz i'll do it"
" i want one boiled taquito. i want to see you go insane trying to boil a taquito. i don't think it will turn out well for you."
"honey, i won't go insane. it can't be that hard to boil a taquito. all you do is put it in boiling water and wait. i just don't think it will end well for you."
these are the things that i do. this is my daily life.
my husband and i need to stop getting sick. our house is filling up with soiled tissues. it's like a chorus of french horns sounding in our living room. rivers of snot are flowing like honey. icky sickly runny honey.
so last night i went over to my girlfriend Carina's house and hung out with the girls. amidst the playful chatty banter i asked Christine if perchance she had had a Mandatory Sex Party while she was house sitting for me earlier this summer as i had found a girls shirt, a guy shirt, and a random unisex hoodie strewn about my digs upon my return. Carina piped up and asked Christine if she was missing a pair of pants, as she had found some left at her house as well.
so either Christine is a subconcious house-sitting-subtle-stripper, or she's having secret Mandatory Sex Parties at her friends' houses when they go out of town.
i had a WEIRD dream because of that conversation. there were like 10 girls, me, and 7 guys in a big hotel suite. myself and a girlfriend of mine ( i won't say who, cuz she might be reading this) were going to have a menage a trois with my hubby. so she got started and i was about to hop on in when our buddy Hoffman started strutting through the suite peeing on everything and everyone. a ruckus ensued, i had to kick several people out (Hoffman, 2 or 3 loud noisy guys, and 4 or 5 of the bitchier chicks), and i was all dissappointed cuz it didn't get to get my bow-chicka-bow-wow on. REALLY dissappointed. hmm...
i woke up and..... what a dream to have. i'm still a tad bit dissappointed, truth be told.
it's probably the only Mandatory Sex Party i'll ever have. and i didn't even get to enjoy it... cuz there was urine everywhere.
f***ing Hoffman.
Mike and i dissagree on how marriage works. i maintain that this is how it goes:
*I am always right, and all bad/icky things are always his fault, and he's always wrong.
he says that that is just not the case. Mike claims that:
*Krista is always wrong, and he is always right two weeks later with the same exact idea.
Krista's Tip of The Day:
Don't sleep with live baby ducks on your pillow. It will, without a doubt, turn into a tear jerking, messy, guilt ridden affair. You'll wake up, expecting to hear it's sweet little "cheep"s, only to discover that the room is silent. You'll turn on the light, rummage through the covers on your futon in a tearful panic, and find your poor Cornelius lifeless and cold in the folds of your comforter. Later, while you're stretching at the gym with your Army co-workers, and crying like a little whimpering kindergartner, your supervisor will pull you aside and ask you what's wrong. You will commence blabbering that
"I WOKE UP THIS MORNING AND MY PET BABY DUCKIE WAS DEAD AND I ROLLED ON HIM AND I FEEL TERRIBLE AND I DON'T HAVE ANY FAMILY HERE AND I'M ALL ALONE AND HE'S ALL I HAD AND NOW HE'S GONE AND I'LL NEVER HEAR HIS SWEET LITTLE CHEEPS OR GET TO WATCH HIM WADDLE AFTER ME BECAUSE HE'S DE-E-E-E-E-AD....."
Supervisor will swallow her laughter over your reasons for being so destroyed this morning, cuz she's a pro, and she'll send you home to collect yourself, pull yourself together, and dry up your Crying Too Hard Snot Faucet Nose.
so save yourself the trouble.
don't sleep with your baby duck in your bed. it won't end well for Little Cornelius.
odd things.
and then he has the audacity to be surprised when i actually do these things. for example, once he dared me to spit in his mouth, claiming that terrible things would happen if i did. but i'm no Wimpy McYella so i did. he had the audacity to get mad at me after i'd expectorated into his orifice. his surprise was unfounded; i told him i'd do it.
today i asked him how he wanted his taquitos cooked. boiled? baked? fried? grilled? and he said he wanted his taquitos boiled.
"now honey, you know better than to ask me to do things like that, cuz i'll do it"
" i want one boiled taquito. i want to see you go insane trying to boil a taquito. i don't think it will turn out well for you."
"honey, i won't go insane. it can't be that hard to boil a taquito. all you do is put it in boiling water and wait. i just don't think it will end well for you."
these are the things that i do. this is my daily life.
my husband and i need to stop getting sick. our house is filling up with soiled tissues. it's like a chorus of french horns sounding in our living room. rivers of snot are flowing like honey. icky sickly runny honey.
so last night i went over to my girlfriend Carina's house and hung out with the girls. amidst the playful chatty banter i asked Christine if perchance she had had a Mandatory Sex Party while she was house sitting for me earlier this summer as i had found a girls shirt, a guy shirt, and a random unisex hoodie strewn about my digs upon my return. Carina piped up and asked Christine if she was missing a pair of pants, as she had found some left at her house as well.
so either Christine is a subconcious house-sitting-subtle-stripper, or she's having secret Mandatory Sex Parties at her friends' houses when they go out of town.
i had a WEIRD dream because of that conversation. there were like 10 girls, me, and 7 guys in a big hotel suite. myself and a girlfriend of mine ( i won't say who, cuz she might be reading this) were going to have a menage a trois with my hubby. so she got started and i was about to hop on in when our buddy Hoffman started strutting through the suite peeing on everything and everyone. a ruckus ensued, i had to kick several people out (Hoffman, 2 or 3 loud noisy guys, and 4 or 5 of the bitchier chicks), and i was all dissappointed cuz it didn't get to get my bow-chicka-bow-wow on. REALLY dissappointed. hmm...
i woke up and..... what a dream to have. i'm still a tad bit dissappointed, truth be told.
it's probably the only Mandatory Sex Party i'll ever have. and i didn't even get to enjoy it... cuz there was urine everywhere.
f***ing Hoffman.
Mike and i dissagree on how marriage works. i maintain that this is how it goes:
*I am always right, and all bad/icky things are always his fault, and he's always wrong.
he says that that is just not the case. Mike claims that:
*Krista is always wrong, and he is always right two weeks later with the same exact idea.
Krista's Tip of The Day:
Don't sleep with live baby ducks on your pillow. It will, without a doubt, turn into a tear jerking, messy, guilt ridden affair. You'll wake up, expecting to hear it's sweet little "cheep"s, only to discover that the room is silent. You'll turn on the light, rummage through the covers on your futon in a tearful panic, and find your poor Cornelius lifeless and cold in the folds of your comforter. Later, while you're stretching at the gym with your Army co-workers, and crying like a little whimpering kindergartner, your supervisor will pull you aside and ask you what's wrong. You will commence blabbering that
"I WOKE UP THIS MORNING AND MY PET BABY DUCKIE WAS DEAD AND I ROLLED ON HIM AND I FEEL TERRIBLE AND I DON'T HAVE ANY FAMILY HERE AND I'M ALL ALONE AND HE'S ALL I HAD AND NOW HE'S GONE AND I'LL NEVER HEAR HIS SWEET LITTLE CHEEPS OR GET TO WATCH HIM WADDLE AFTER ME BECAUSE HE'S DE-E-E-E-E-AD....."
Supervisor will swallow her laughter over your reasons for being so destroyed this morning, cuz she's a pro, and she'll send you home to collect yourself, pull yourself together, and dry up your Crying Too Hard Snot Faucet Nose.
so save yourself the trouble.
don't sleep with your baby duck in your bed. it won't end well for Little Cornelius.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Birthiversary of Death
usually, i take an entire week surrounding September the 9th in order to properly celebrate my general awesomeness, and the fact that i've been on this Earth shedding my happy aura all over it for another glorious year. because my birthday is BIGGER than just one day. since Mike and i have been married, we rolled our anniversary and his birthday into this week long extravaganza; we got married September 10th, and his birthday is on the 14th. we call it "Birthiversary Week". and it is an overwhelming 7 day expression of love, joy, happiness, and usually way too much sugar.
however.
this year, Birthiversary Sucked Ass. i very nearly died. it was nearly a class 7 catastrophe. oh yeah. and Mike almost kicked off too.
i decided on the 7th to get some Wendy's for Mike and I for lunch; spicy chicken sandwiches - Mike's favorite thing to get at Wendy's. i returned home from the restaurant triumphant, feeling all high and mighty and like the Best Wife Ever for getting Mike something delicious and surprising him.
we ate lunch. i had gotten some chicken nuggets in addition to my sandwich. (enter ominous death music)
i ate one... it tasted funny. like the oil it had been cooked in was at least 8 months old and tainted with metal shavings. but somehow, i muscled through eating the rest of them, save one, which i pressured Mike into eating.
after we ate, Mike went back to work. i spent the next four hours feeling nauseated and having the familar urge to barf and barf thoroughly. Mike got home that evening, i handed off the child, and commenced to spraying the toilet bowl with my innards. this contined for several hours, me barfing, Mike making fun of me, telling me that i have a weak constitution and that i should toughen up, me barfing some more, me barfing into a bucket whilst breastfeeding my son (which takes a certain measure of finesse so as not to vomit on the child), Mike still making fun of me, and me barfing like a champ.
i got the boy in bed, and i had stopped spewing so i went to bed. after all, we had to fly out the next day. then Mike got sick. very loudly. for several hours. HAHAHAHHAHA. i was totally sympathetic while he was ralphing, but now it is hilarious. that's what he gets for taunting me and pointing and laughing while my diseased insides were exploding out of my mouth.
the next day, tired, dehydrated and weak, we hopped on the plane. then we hopped on another plane. sat on the tarmac for an hour before it decided to take off, then hopped on another plane. we got in around 1 am. it was STUPID how tired we were.
the next day, my birthday, we went to my Great Grandmother's funeral. we spent all day it seemed like traveling in a tiny car. with no air conditioning. hell, with no air anything. just 6 people in a tiny sedan, moist, stuffy, cramped, and i got car sick. i felt like death warmed over all day.
the next day was our anniversary. we spent the day having our flight delayed, flying all day, and spending a three hour lay-over in Atlanta.
Ronin was an angel, of course, during all of this. thank God. because i think i might have had to disembowel myself with a sharpened rubix cube if he had been all sick and screamy.
but the trip eventually ended, we got back to Retard-o-Georgia and life is better now.
next year, Birthiversary Week better rock.
Krista's Thoughts Before Bedtime:
1. the most terrifying supernatural creature is the Werekitten. you know, like a werewolf but it's a kitten. a werekitten. think about it. one minute it's all "i'm cute and fluffy and batting your strings around" and the next it's ripping your limps from your bloody stump of a body and laughing madly in the moonlight. terrifying.
2. Ronin Sneaky Puked me today. i was carrying him around and we were singing silly songs and all of the sudden there's a fountain of used-to-be-milk all over my pants and right foot. and he just looks up at me and grins. the little rascal.
3. i lost two pounds since last week. which is awesome. although i'm sitting here typing and stuffing my face with peanut m&ms.
4. i got a new phone. for those of you that know me and my attatchment to my old phone, this is SHOCKING news. i've had the same old broken cracked po-dunk phone now for four years. and i really didn't want to get rid of it. i called it Old Trusty. but Mike got a new awesome interwebs capable phone and i got one for free so.... yeah. i only accepted the new phone on the condition that we give Old Trusty a proper Viking Funeral. you know, the old phone in a shoe box, floating down a river, all aflame. Rest in Peace my old friend.
5. my new phone is so awesome i want to make sweet sweet love making with it. or at least just cuddle it. probably just cuddle. don't want to put the moves on my new phone too quickly, can't have it thinking i'm a technology whore.
6. i'm a very specific kind of telepathic. i can somehow, magically, tell what my husband wants to eat for lunch the next day, without him telling me, and i will eat it before he gets a chance to. then he will accuse me of "sabotaging" his lunchings, and i will deny his allegations, and then i'll make plans to eat something else and inevitably he will tell me after i've masticated it that he had deliberate plans to eat it. it's a talent. Mike's awfully cute when he threatens to divorce me over little things like that.
7. i've started having a cup of coffee a day. i've joined millions of Americans and have purchased a coffee maker machine technology apparatus. i now drug myself everyday. i made this decision after several nights of waking up wayyyyyyy too often to soothe a crying child. specifically last night. he woke up EVERY HOUR AND A HALF. it was beyond ridiculous. my son loves me.
8. Mike destroyed yet ANOTHER pair of my glasses this week. my favorite sunglasses. that's why i call him the destroyer. he dances joyfully in my tears.
9. it's been nearly a month since my son has Ninja Peed on me. SUCCESS!!!!!
10. birthdays aren't supposed to suck. it still feels like i haven't had one. Mike insisted that his was no big deal this year, which makes me feel kind of stupid and childish for getting so excited about mine. i didn't even get a cupcake.
and y'all KNOW how i feel about cupcakes.
however.
this year, Birthiversary Sucked Ass. i very nearly died. it was nearly a class 7 catastrophe. oh yeah. and Mike almost kicked off too.
i decided on the 7th to get some Wendy's for Mike and I for lunch; spicy chicken sandwiches - Mike's favorite thing to get at Wendy's. i returned home from the restaurant triumphant, feeling all high and mighty and like the Best Wife Ever for getting Mike something delicious and surprising him.
we ate lunch. i had gotten some chicken nuggets in addition to my sandwich. (enter ominous death music)
i ate one... it tasted funny. like the oil it had been cooked in was at least 8 months old and tainted with metal shavings. but somehow, i muscled through eating the rest of them, save one, which i pressured Mike into eating.
after we ate, Mike went back to work. i spent the next four hours feeling nauseated and having the familar urge to barf and barf thoroughly. Mike got home that evening, i handed off the child, and commenced to spraying the toilet bowl with my innards. this contined for several hours, me barfing, Mike making fun of me, telling me that i have a weak constitution and that i should toughen up, me barfing some more, me barfing into a bucket whilst breastfeeding my son (which takes a certain measure of finesse so as not to vomit on the child), Mike still making fun of me, and me barfing like a champ.
i got the boy in bed, and i had stopped spewing so i went to bed. after all, we had to fly out the next day. then Mike got sick. very loudly. for several hours. HAHAHAHHAHA. i was totally sympathetic while he was ralphing, but now it is hilarious. that's what he gets for taunting me and pointing and laughing while my diseased insides were exploding out of my mouth.
the next day, tired, dehydrated and weak, we hopped on the plane. then we hopped on another plane. sat on the tarmac for an hour before it decided to take off, then hopped on another plane. we got in around 1 am. it was STUPID how tired we were.
the next day, my birthday, we went to my Great Grandmother's funeral. we spent all day it seemed like traveling in a tiny car. with no air conditioning. hell, with no air anything. just 6 people in a tiny sedan, moist, stuffy, cramped, and i got car sick. i felt like death warmed over all day.
the next day was our anniversary. we spent the day having our flight delayed, flying all day, and spending a three hour lay-over in Atlanta.
Ronin was an angel, of course, during all of this. thank God. because i think i might have had to disembowel myself with a sharpened rubix cube if he had been all sick and screamy.
but the trip eventually ended, we got back to Retard-o-Georgia and life is better now.
next year, Birthiversary Week better rock.
Krista's Thoughts Before Bedtime:
1. the most terrifying supernatural creature is the Werekitten. you know, like a werewolf but it's a kitten. a werekitten. think about it. one minute it's all "i'm cute and fluffy and batting your strings around" and the next it's ripping your limps from your bloody stump of a body and laughing madly in the moonlight. terrifying.
2. Ronin Sneaky Puked me today. i was carrying him around and we were singing silly songs and all of the sudden there's a fountain of used-to-be-milk all over my pants and right foot. and he just looks up at me and grins. the little rascal.
3. i lost two pounds since last week. which is awesome. although i'm sitting here typing and stuffing my face with peanut m&ms.
4. i got a new phone. for those of you that know me and my attatchment to my old phone, this is SHOCKING news. i've had the same old broken cracked po-dunk phone now for four years. and i really didn't want to get rid of it. i called it Old Trusty. but Mike got a new awesome interwebs capable phone and i got one for free so.... yeah. i only accepted the new phone on the condition that we give Old Trusty a proper Viking Funeral. you know, the old phone in a shoe box, floating down a river, all aflame. Rest in Peace my old friend.
5. my new phone is so awesome i want to make sweet sweet love making with it. or at least just cuddle it. probably just cuddle. don't want to put the moves on my new phone too quickly, can't have it thinking i'm a technology whore.
6. i'm a very specific kind of telepathic. i can somehow, magically, tell what my husband wants to eat for lunch the next day, without him telling me, and i will eat it before he gets a chance to. then he will accuse me of "sabotaging" his lunchings, and i will deny his allegations, and then i'll make plans to eat something else and inevitably he will tell me after i've masticated it that he had deliberate plans to eat it. it's a talent. Mike's awfully cute when he threatens to divorce me over little things like that.
7. i've started having a cup of coffee a day. i've joined millions of Americans and have purchased a coffee maker machine technology apparatus. i now drug myself everyday. i made this decision after several nights of waking up wayyyyyyy too often to soothe a crying child. specifically last night. he woke up EVERY HOUR AND A HALF. it was beyond ridiculous. my son loves me.
8. Mike destroyed yet ANOTHER pair of my glasses this week. my favorite sunglasses. that's why i call him the destroyer. he dances joyfully in my tears.
9. it's been nearly a month since my son has Ninja Peed on me. SUCCESS!!!!!
10. birthdays aren't supposed to suck. it still feels like i haven't had one. Mike insisted that his was no big deal this year, which makes me feel kind of stupid and childish for getting so excited about mine. i didn't even get a cupcake.
and y'all KNOW how i feel about cupcakes.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
you're about as subtle as a flying brick
so i'm watching this new show, True Blood and .... i'm on the second season and it's gettin' weird.
also, i've noticed that since i started watching it my southern drawl comes out a lot more often. this is inconvenient as i have dedicated years to insisting that i don't, in fact, have an accent.
Wendy's tried to assasinate me today. With a spicy chicken sandwich. and poison nuggets. i've felt like puking for hours now with no end in sight. i don't feel like eating ever again. *time lapse* i just barfed twice and now my mouth tastes like raw-chicken-rancid-hot-dog-salmonella.
gross.
also, i've noticed that since i started watching it my southern drawl comes out a lot more often. this is inconvenient as i have dedicated years to insisting that i don't, in fact, have an accent.
Wendy's tried to assasinate me today. With a spicy chicken sandwich. and poison nuggets. i've felt like puking for hours now with no end in sight. i don't feel like eating ever again. *time lapse* i just barfed twice and now my mouth tastes like raw-chicken-rancid-hot-dog-salmonella.
gross.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
sharing... it's a rule now...
5 imaginary bucks to the first person that knows where that comes from. and sorry, Michael, you can't play.
i love that after two years of marriage, Mike and i are still having fun. we still find interesting ways to entertain ourselves and make each other laugh.
like last night when i declared that the entire king size bed was mine, and then he attempted to smother me with pillows and the quilt, and i fought back with Merciless Tickles until we were both just exhausted and giggly.
you know you've made a Good Life Decision when you find it difficult to sleep because you keep thinking about the Pillow Fight you've just had and you keep bursting out in fits of chuckles.
you're never too old for Pillow Fights.
Some of my Favorite Words and Phrases:
1) Pants. when my little sister and i were in our glorious teenage years, we came up with some WEIRD stuff. and one of our favorite things to chant was; Warm... Clean... PANTS.
2) Paradigm. it makes me feel like maybe i'm not a doofus when i use this word, so i try and use it a lot. example: i'm not sure that a pineapple is the best thing to be shoving into our car's fuel tank; we may want to reevaluate our decision-making paradigm.
3) What a Fortuitous Boon. it's just a super fancy way of saying "hooray, i win at life today!"
4) Zanzibar. try not to smile after saying Zanzibar. you can't do it can you? i feel acomplished when i say it. like i'm actually doing something constructive with my life.
i'm turning 26 on Thursday and.... i'm mini-panicking. i'm pretty sure this officially makes me a Twenty Something and i don't exactly know how i feel about that. it freaks me out possibly even more that my little sister will be 24. geez. where is the time going? my son is already half a year old....
i played some poker tonight, and i guess i did ok. it didn't win, but of the 7 of us that were playing, i hung in there until it was me and just one other dude. i went all in on the last hand, and i HAD HIM until the last card came down on the river and his pair ended up beating out my pair. rough luck. i'm proud of myself though. i NEVER play poker, i don't know/remember all the rules, and for half of the game i was playing with/feeding/nursing my son. so..... not too shabby.
i'd really like to be funny and entertaining tonight; but the elements have conspired against me. my dear sweet Great-Grandma died today. her funeral is in Portland on my birthday and i'm heading up there with Ronin and hopefully Mike to pay my respects. i'm so grateful that i got to see her again this summer and that she got to meet and hold Ronin. she just lit up with that little boy on her lap. she was 98 and 1/2. she got to see a lot of life; i hope that i am as lucky.
Krista's Bedtime Thoughts:
1. my cats are doing.... something weird... under the bed and it sounds like Mutant Giant Termites trying to tiptoe around so as not to be discovered by me and consequently squuzed when i whap them with my folded up step stool i keep for just such Mutant Giant Termite Squooshing.
2. i have a headache. that's been happening more lately...
3. a lady complimented my son's skin this evening... what an interesting compliment. she said she liked the tone of it. he gets that lovely natural tan from his 1/2 Hungarian daddy.
4. all i want for my birthday is to go out to me and Mike's favorite romantical restaurant, and to eat lots and lots of fancy homemade cupcakes and also an ice cream cake from Cold Stone Creamery. which smashes my Diet to all smithereens.
5. saw a news story about a little chubby 10 or so year old girl named Agatha... and it occured to me that her parents are cruel and probably don't love her very much. Agatha. Agatha. poor lass.
6. ah, just figured out what i'd like for my birthday. a Unicorn. named Trevor. preferably with wings.
7. i'll bet that merry go rounds and carousels have inferiority complexes... because real roller coasters are awesome and they just aren't.
8. i need a cupcake. NOW.
9. i was the white trash woman tonight with my darling boy wearing nothing but a diaper and his own drool because it was so damn hot. it was me. i was that white trash woman.
10. fried zucchini is delicious.
i love that after two years of marriage, Mike and i are still having fun. we still find interesting ways to entertain ourselves and make each other laugh.
like last night when i declared that the entire king size bed was mine, and then he attempted to smother me with pillows and the quilt, and i fought back with Merciless Tickles until we were both just exhausted and giggly.
you know you've made a Good Life Decision when you find it difficult to sleep because you keep thinking about the Pillow Fight you've just had and you keep bursting out in fits of chuckles.
you're never too old for Pillow Fights.
Some of my Favorite Words and Phrases:
1) Pants. when my little sister and i were in our glorious teenage years, we came up with some WEIRD stuff. and one of our favorite things to chant was; Warm... Clean... PANTS.
2) Paradigm. it makes me feel like maybe i'm not a doofus when i use this word, so i try and use it a lot. example: i'm not sure that a pineapple is the best thing to be shoving into our car's fuel tank; we may want to reevaluate our decision-making paradigm.
3) What a Fortuitous Boon. it's just a super fancy way of saying "hooray, i win at life today!"
4) Zanzibar. try not to smile after saying Zanzibar. you can't do it can you? i feel acomplished when i say it. like i'm actually doing something constructive with my life.
i'm turning 26 on Thursday and.... i'm mini-panicking. i'm pretty sure this officially makes me a Twenty Something and i don't exactly know how i feel about that. it freaks me out possibly even more that my little sister will be 24. geez. where is the time going? my son is already half a year old....
i played some poker tonight, and i guess i did ok. it didn't win, but of the 7 of us that were playing, i hung in there until it was me and just one other dude. i went all in on the last hand, and i HAD HIM until the last card came down on the river and his pair ended up beating out my pair. rough luck. i'm proud of myself though. i NEVER play poker, i don't know/remember all the rules, and for half of the game i was playing with/feeding/nursing my son. so..... not too shabby.
i'd really like to be funny and entertaining tonight; but the elements have conspired against me. my dear sweet Great-Grandma died today. her funeral is in Portland on my birthday and i'm heading up there with Ronin and hopefully Mike to pay my respects. i'm so grateful that i got to see her again this summer and that she got to meet and hold Ronin. she just lit up with that little boy on her lap. she was 98 and 1/2. she got to see a lot of life; i hope that i am as lucky.
Krista's Bedtime Thoughts:
1. my cats are doing.... something weird... under the bed and it sounds like Mutant Giant Termites trying to tiptoe around so as not to be discovered by me and consequently squuzed when i whap them with my folded up step stool i keep for just such Mutant Giant Termite Squooshing.
2. i have a headache. that's been happening more lately...
3. a lady complimented my son's skin this evening... what an interesting compliment. she said she liked the tone of it. he gets that lovely natural tan from his 1/2 Hungarian daddy.
4. all i want for my birthday is to go out to me and Mike's favorite romantical restaurant, and to eat lots and lots of fancy homemade cupcakes and also an ice cream cake from Cold Stone Creamery. which smashes my Diet to all smithereens.
5. saw a news story about a little chubby 10 or so year old girl named Agatha... and it occured to me that her parents are cruel and probably don't love her very much. Agatha. Agatha. poor lass.
6. ah, just figured out what i'd like for my birthday. a Unicorn. named Trevor. preferably with wings.
7. i'll bet that merry go rounds and carousels have inferiority complexes... because real roller coasters are awesome and they just aren't.
8. i need a cupcake. NOW.
9. i was the white trash woman tonight with my darling boy wearing nothing but a diaper and his own drool because it was so damn hot. it was me. i was that white trash woman.
10. fried zucchini is delicious.
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