Sweet Potatoes and God – AKA The Things I Love
I have a salami sandwich for lunch. Ugh. So instead of thinking about various Indian places that deliver in this area, I am going to update my blog. (Yep, as you can see, married life has changed me SO MUCH.)
In other news, did you know canned pumpkin doesn’t exist anymore? Apparently the pumpkin harvest was so bad last year there is NO canned pumpkin. Which means I have to go out, buy a pumpkin, roast it, get the tasty innards out, and turn that into a pie.
Or I could just make a sweet potato pie because it tastes EXACTLY the same. So instead I will do that tomorrow. And maybe it’s just my area, but sweet potatoes in the stores are like the size of BABIES. Seriously, I think I just bought a sweet potato that is smaller than my friend’s newborn son. I am having serious problems resisting the urge to name it.
I just realized I have a bunch of Logan’s old diapers that no longer fit him at the house. Holy cow I am totally gonna diaper a potato when I get home.
In other news, I am making a deal with God. I KNOW. I KNOW. This is not the place to talk about God. But for those of you who do not know, I loves me some God. And not to worry, I am not a preechy kind of lady. But here’s the thing – I am kinda gonna make a deal with God. See, I volunteered to teach Sunday school this coming year. YES. YES I AM AWARE THAT I SWEAR TOO MUCH AND I DRINK AND I AM A HORRIBLE EXAMPLE FOR THE CHILDREN. But thankfully, Christianity is about redemption, so I got that going for me. So here’s my deal: If I enjoy teaching Sunday school, and there is a way for me to pay for it, I will become a minister.
YEP. Betchya didn’t see that one coming, did you?
I Hope You’re Snockered
Over the weekend, I got married.
Obviously, the altar boys in the background are less than impressed at our ‘making-out-in-a-church-skills.’
See, I haven’t been around because I have been QUITE busy with wedding stuff. My mom threw me a shower. It was awesome because it involved my favorite things: carbs, booze, and gifts. Oh and Italian Ice. I mean really, who doesn’t like Italian Ice?
I was trying to find some photos from the shower that didn’t have any other people in them that didn’t look like I was mid-sneeze. There really aren’t any. I can’t take a decent picture. So here’s a picture of me and my grandmother. She doesn’t have the internet, and doesn’t understand what this internet fuss is all about, so I know she won’t be pissed if I post this for the world to see.
(I would like to take a moment to point out that WordPress is suggesting that I tag this post with the tag “bathroom.” WTF wordpress? Can’t I have anything nice without you ruining it?)
Before the wedding, I had a little sparkling wine:
…and had a little more wine because the dress came with one of those ties in the back so you could lace up the back of the dress. I left those ties at home. ‘Home’ being about an hour away. When I realized it was missing, it was about 10 minutes before we had to leave for the church. YEAH. YEARS CAME OFF OF MY LIFE PEOPLE.
My friend Missy refilled my glass, and my friend Jennifer came up with a solution that saved the day – butchers twine.
Charlotte laced me up ala Scarette O’hara (i.e. that little tiny waist up there isn’t exactly natural. Or healthy. I am pretty sure my kidneys are still in my throat.) BUT IT WORKED. And my super long tea-dyed veil covered the twine. Thank God for Jennifer is all I have to say – my backup plan was using a stapler.
The reception went off without a hitch, and the rest of the night was amazing. More pictures will come in a little bit, but in the meantime, I need a nap!
There Are Things Here That Cannot Be Unseen
You all need to go to this site. Like NOW. Because I need to make sure that I am not crazy and that someone else is seeing what I am seeing.
Dyslexia in the Workplace
What Dyslexia looks like (via Wikipedia)
I don’t think I have talked about this much, but I am dyslexic. Thank goodness for the advent of the computer age, because it takes me 20 minutes to write down a note on a post-it. I wish I was kidding about that, but I am totally not. It’s why Eric keeps all the little post-it’s that I wrote to him over the years. He knows it probably would have been easier for me to bake him a batch of cookies in heart shapes than to write him a little note. And tastier. So much tastier.
Anyway, today I sent someone an email, and this is what I meant to send to them:
If you are not too busy, could you create this list for me?
Instead, I sent them this:
If you are not oo busty, can tyou make a thist for me?
Nothing like asking your co-worker if they are busty or not. I like how I say “Oo Busty” too, like asking someone if they are busty or not is embarrassing enough, but making the “drooling” sound beforehand really drives the embarrassment home.
Storm
There is a storm going on in Chicago, and it came out of NOWHERE. Like, 30 seconds ago it was CLEAR OUTSIDE.
And now, it looks like this:
I am seriously the shittiest cameraman ever.
Friday 5
5 Things found in my bag: My Zen Stone (that’s a different brand of MP3 player than an IPod, but essentially the same thing), a baggie of vitamins, my very dirty wallet (as in it’s dirty, not that it is like a naked lady wallet or anything), my robot keys, and a check from my Great Uncle John.
5 Things I’ve always wanted to do: Get lost wandering around London, drive across country, find an all-you-can-eat Lobster buffet and gorge myself, go to a spa for the day, zipline through the jungle
5 Favorite Things in my room: my bed, 2 tons of clothes on the floor being organized for laundry, a hello kitty doll that is hanging herself from my blinds cord, a TV, a clock radio (bonus: things that are not in my bedroom currently: Me, a working lamp.)
5 Things I’m currently into: cheese dips, pickled vegetables, Paolo Nutini, mid-century design, centerpieces
How to Skip Over Those AWFUL VEVO Ads
Ok, so if you spend ANY TIME AT ALL on YouTube, you have run into the Vevo videos.
Here’s how you skip over those advertisements that last 25 seconds at the beginning:
YOU HIT THE REFRESH BUTTON.
I am not kidding – try it out now. This video is a Vevo video. Go to it, let the ad start, hit refresh on your browser.
And you’re welcome 
Best Spam Comment Award
Honey in my house we call that a bonus.
Anxiety Issues
I sometimes wake up in the night and think about this:
It’s a beach in Saint Maartens. It bothers me that it exists. I will never visit this place. Never never never.
I also think about Farrah leaving her daughter alone to play with hot water. I swear I am trying not to blog every week about Teen Mom(s) but dang it – it’s haaaaaaaaaaaard (image me saying that like Amber.)
(PS MTV – there are multiple moms, why is the show called Teen Mom?) I swear this will be the last I talk about it – but I totally feel bad for Farrah now. I mean, I thought she was selfish before, but now I see that she is in a dysfunctional family, and she realized early on to get what she can financially because her family is CRAZY with a CAPITAL C. Farrah honey, keep your baby away from that crazy eyed mother of yours – please, I NEED TO SLEEP!
And now, for something completely different…
(You might want to plug in your headphones, just FYI)
I am addicted to this song. SO. VERY. ADDICTED.
What can I say – I’m a lady with many problems.
Top Five & Some Hellos
I have been thinking about this list for years now, and I am going to finally make it official – here are my top five foods I am ashamed to say I love. Not only do I love them, I have eaten them for dinner. More than once. Trust me, this is about to get sad in a chubby-girl-eating-stuff-she-shouldn’t kinda way:
1. Prosciutto wrapped anything. Asparagus? CHECK. Olive? CHECK. You can wrap shoe leather in prosciutto and I will eat it. And be happy. I used to buy a pound of the stuff when I worked near the Little Italy area of Chicago and eat it on the way home. I know this is something that I should probably be ashamed of and not tell the world about, but hey, why start having shame now?
2. Mussels in red sauce. Oh. my. gosh. people. It’s a pretty good thing that I keep Eric around, because I will not lie – I would eat this so often that I would get mercury poisoning if he wasn’t here to stop me. This is particularly dangerous because I am cheap* and therefore will try to find the cheapest seafood ever and then eat copious amounts of it.
3. Baked Mostaccioli. I have touched on how awesome this is before, but what I didn’t mention before is this dish can have up to 3000 calories per bowl. I will let that sink in for a second. YEAH. I KNOW. Considering I also used to eat this once a week, let’s not act all surprised when we figure out where my weight gain came from.
4. Cheap Sparkling Wine and Cotton Candy. This is my favorite combo for a night in when Eric is not home. The trifecta is complete if you add in the movie Love Actually. I totally wish I was kidding but cheap wine, cotton candy, and Hugh Grant all together equals a small piece of heaven for me.
5. Jalapenos/Mexican Steak. I know what it does to me. I know. I know I will be in pain the next day when I eat it, but darn it, I am going to eat an entire jar of pickled jalapenos while eating Mexican steak dishes (burritos, tacos, bisteck con rajas, it really doesn’t matter, I will eat it all!) I cannot help myself. Eric has stared in awe as I polish off a gallon sized jar of pickled jalapenos while eating a football sized steak burrito. I know I shouldn’t, but darn it, I am going to.
So, what are your five? I was going to tag people, but really, just leave a comment letting me know you posted your five, I am not going to peer pressure people into doing this with me (I am, however, going to peer pressure you into watching a Hugh Grant movie while eating sugar and getting drunk. Trust me. IT WILL HAPPEN.)
*Don’t be cheap like me, buy quality sea food. Seriously. Think of how many times I have gotten food poisoning/stomach problems – you don’t want that. Seriously, it’s kinda a wonder I am not dead.
And now, for some hellos, because I had a spike in hits the other day, and therefore got off my lazy butt to see where people were coming from:
Hello to the person from Irving, Texas. I will level with you, since you started reading my blog, I have looked up your town on Wikipedia. It’s 56 in Irving in the winter. You have cute downtown areas. I really, really like Irving Texas. But you guys scare me with that whole “dry county” thing. I like drinking cheap sparkling wine and eating sugar, as stated above. But I guess I can make concessions, assuming you never make a ban on Hugh Grant.
Someone please explain to me why this man isn't pelted with panties where ever he goes.
To the person who comes here from Katten Muchin Rosenman – shhh, I won’t tell on you. Funny story, while I was unemployed, I applied for a job with you. I guess it is for the best that I didn’t get it, eh? That would be weird, right? I would be walking around the office, getting introduced to my co-workers, to you, and you would be thinking to yourself “That’s that girl with that blog who pees when she gets frightened!” And frankly, I rather enjoy people I work with not knowing that delightful little fact about me.
To the people who searched the word ‘penis’ and came upon this blog:
I feel like this is my oscar moment. You searched for the word penis, and somehow ended up on this blog. Of all the sites on the internet, mine is where you ended up. MAMA WE MADE IT! WE MAAAAAADE IT MAMA! Oh I am so proud.
Ok folks, you pretend it’s Friday, and so will I, and maybe if we wish really hard, it will come true. And while we are wishing for things, please wish that Hugh Grant somehow becomes my pool boy. And that I have a pool.
I’m a girl with many needs.
