Why I'll Never Be Thin

Since I was late for work today, I brought an apology box of doughnuts. Another co-worker brought in pastries, and my boss brought us Snicker's ice cream bars.

My poor lean cuisine never stood a chance.

Not to mention, I get home yesterday to find a hug box of chocolates at my front door, via my wonderful in-laws (my stomach thanks you, but my hips are glaring at you right now)

Or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

Once, when I was a young co-ed, I was behind a guy in the check-out line of the student union cafeteria.

He was holding two trays of food, and the cashier was well into the $20 category and was still ringing up items.

"That will be $26.50," she annouced.

"And," The guys explains, "I have a banana in my pocket."

OHMYGOSHOHMYGOSHOHMYGOSH

I was so excited! Never before had a punchline presented itself to me in such a lovely package*! I almost started hyperventilating with the excitement of getting to say the big finale. But then I started to think...

Do I add a "ba dum bum", or do I just say it?

I pondered that for awhile, decided to go sans badumbum, and opened my mouth to deliver the line. However, instead of hilarity coming out, a sandwich went in.

Somehow, while I had spent too much time thinking about it, he had left, I had paid, and I was already sitting down eating.

Crap! talk about lack of comic timing.

Ah well, at least the sandwich was good.

*PUNNY!

Sigh.

This time last year, I was here:











want to go back. now.

i love EVERYTHING about this

Fix Me

I guess I ought to go ahead and retroactively apologize (as well as in advance) for all the grammar and spelling errors that inevitably appear on my posts.

I swear I type everything with 100% accuracy, but I think a little squirrel must log-in and screw with the blogs before I post them. I guess I should learn to proofread things.

But I never have. In college, I wouldn't type my papers until the night before they were due. I would finish typing a mere 5 minutes before the class, then I would frantically try to print it and run to the classroom to turn it in on time.

I guess that part has spilled over into adulthood, because when I finish typing I still get into "frantic mode" and hurry to post it.

Beyond all my grammatical errors, there's another part of this blog I've been thinking about tweaking.

Does it annoy you that I call my husband, "Husband"?

Honestly, when I came up with the nickname, it was out of convenience. I was eager to post a blog, I needed something to call him, and I wanted to keep some form of anonymity on here.

I guess I had a couple options: I could of used his real name (it's pretty common and wouldn't have given much away...not to mention that half my readers are relatives and already know his name).

I could admit to the world that the name i call him the most is: monkey (which has devolved into monk). No real reason this started, except that he often reminds me of a monkey (orangutan to be exact)

or I could be uber lazy, not try to come up with a name, and just capitalize the first letter of what he technically is. (lets file that one under apathy+laziness, which coincidentally, is how one of my readers found my blog...hello!)

So there you go, I chose the quickest and easiest solution. Let's just be clear that I do NOT call him Husband in my non-cyber life. But does it bother you to read it?

I think we should all take a moment to suggest what I should call him from now on. You can still vote for Husband. You could even vote for Monk. OR, and this seems way more ridiculous (i.e.fun), you could suggest a new, completely random name. How about Leonard, or Thor?

I am embracing the election of '08 (only took me a year to get involved) and have decided that change IS coming to this blog, so please, make the difference. And let's hope it doesn't end up like either of these:

Useless Drivel

Tomorrow, Starbucks is giving out free pastries with the purchase of a drink. Click here to print out the coupon (or load it to your pda and show it to them)

While sitting here (at work), I noticed that my computer is a compaq, my monitor is a dell, my keyboard is an hp, and my mouse is an ibm. Awesome.

Hi, My Name is Shellbell, and I Don't Have an iPhone

I hear admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery.

Which step gets me one of these bad boys?

With Kicky Boots and a Side Ponytail

Barbie just never did it for me.

At age 6, I sold all my dolls during a garage sale because I "needed the money." When I would go to my friends' houses to play, I would brush barbie's hair for about 30 seconds before asking "what are we going to do next"?
(Apparently, I didn't realize we were supposed to shut our mouths, style some outfits, and get ready for our "dream date" with Ken)

I've gone through the last 15 years hardly giving the Mattel doll a second thought, and then I stumbled upon this little gem. How fantastic! (you just have to see it to believe it, but here's a sneak preview)



Also, have you heard about the new Barbie Suite at the Palms in Vegas? The website reads, "Ever dreamed of living in Barbie’s Malibu Dream House? If so, now is your chance!"

Well, I can honestly say I haven't. Nothing against those of you who have...but I, for one, was thrilled when barbie traded-in her corvette for a jeep. And i'm guessing the suite is more of a corvette type place...

Pathetic

Husband and I are currently enjoying the fact that we have more computers in the house than people (He rented an extra laptop from UW).

I was flipping through my Google Reader, enjoying Home Sweet Home. As I often do, I see a crazy/amazing picture I want to show him.

And what do I do folks?

• Do I get up, and walk the 4 steps over to him?
• Do I turn the computer, so that he could see it from where he's sitting?

Of course not! I email it to him.

Sad.

AND WHILE I'M MENTIONING BLOGS I ENJOY.....

I'd love to mention a couple I adore. (and no, I don't know these people at all)

SF Girl by Bay: If I could, I'd like to curl up and live inside one of her pictures...or cover my walls with them (whichever makes me less creepy)

The Typing Makes Me Sound Busy : Join "J" in her failures, and all the hilarity that comes with them. I probably look forward to new posts from her more than anyone.

Hope you enjoy. I always love finding new blogs, so feel free to pass some of your favorites along!
(maybe I'll even show them to Husband, via email of course)

I've Got the Age, Just Waiting for the Wisdom

My birthday is in a couple weeks. My parents keep asking what I want. Oddly enough, Husband hasn't asked me this question at all (ahem, ahem. cough, cough).

I have a slew of things I would like, but are completely unpractical at this moment. Be it either age, living conditions, or poverty.

I did, however, like the items enough to devote an entire 5 minutes to make a "You can't have any of This" collage.

Sigh.


Asking for practical gifts just doesn't seem as fun. But here are some things I'd like:

A haircut and pedicure.
A shopping spree (momma needs a new pair of shoes, and shirts, and pants...and home decor).

And the one big item I think I will be asking for this year?

A Cruiser Bike!


In Madison, everyone who is anyone has a bicycle. Granted, riding around town on a cheap beach cruiser will probably cause me to be the laughing stock of the "we spend thousands of dollars on our bike, and all we want to do is talk about it" crowd*. But I really don't care, I could definitely see myself on the cushy seat and ice cold six pack practical groceries in the basket.

I just hope Husband will install a little ring-ring bell on it.

*"Hey, let's talk about how small my carbon footprint is, and how that makes me a better person than you." Dorks.

You're a Tree in the Wind!

(aka: My life as a Belly Dancer, Part 2)

I'm officially halfway done with my belly dancing classes. (okay, okay. I skipped one class, but it's because my parents were in town!...well, at least that's my excuse)

So far, i've:

• been "a tree in the wind"
• acted "like I'm cradling a giant egg in my arms"
• stood "as though there's a string from the my head to the ceiling"
• pretended "my arms are snakes"
  
• and tried to "glide effortlessly across the floor"

The one thing I haven't done, is look like a belly dancer.

Instead, I look like a drunken ostrich....a drunken ostrich who has no rhythm.

But that's OK! It was never my goal to be a amazing. It was my intention to get out of my comfort zone, try something new, and potentially humiliate myself. I can put a big red checkmark next to all those things (not like the third one is that difficult...or rarely accomplished for that matter).

Admittedly, the novel I am constantly narrating in my head causes me to be the heroine in every situation, and by default perhaps I expect myself to exceed at everything.... but at least I am not the worst.

I know this for a fact, because my instructor came into my [place of work] the other day. I said hello and reminded her that she was my teacher. She semi -recognized me, but couldn't remember which of her classes I was in. That's got to mean I'm just somewhere in the middle right? If I were the worst, I'm sure she would be sitting around with her friends at night, regaling them with story of the horrible ginger-haired drunk ostrich in her class.

Ten Things I Love About Madison

10. Crazy Hippies
9. Eating in Madison, A to Z
8. pretty Capitol
7. Mickie's Dairy Bar
6. Free Issues of The Onion
5. Lakes
4. New Glarus Spotted Cow
3. The Chocolate Shoppe (oh.my.god)
2. FREE Zoo
1. Union Terrace


I think some part of heaven looks like the terrace

Too Tired. Make up your own damn title

I have just completed a 50 hour/ 6 day work week. I am deliriously tired and trying to swim through a BOX of sangria my mom left at our house. Naturally, now's a great time for me to try and write a blog.

Here are some of my more recent observations:

• I think the peacock is nature's metrosexual.

• I think neighbors who don't like dogs, and complain about you (knowing full well that the dogs will be gone in two days) suck.

• I think Moe's is the far superior burrito place
  (not to mention the fact that Qdoba made me sit through Hillary Duff and Beyonce during my meal. NOT okay)
  

• I think not showering before work is completely acceptable on your 6th day in a row. (Note: sparkly headbands don't help at all in thwarting the negative attention away from the greasy hairdo)
  

• I think that skipping the $1.50 cookie at the restaurant, only to go to the grocery store and spend $15 on ingredients to make a huge batch at home, is a FANTASTIC idea
  (just waiting for my chocolate peanut butter rice crispy treats to set...Oops, i just drooled on the keyboard and rendered it useless)
  

Husband is in still in shock at how quiet the house is, but I am simply too tired to talk. I am not, however, too tired to write a blog, make desserts, or drink copious amounts of sangria.

Is it sad that not having to set my alarm clock in the morning is one of the most exciting things to happen to me in awhile?

Poverty Self-Pity

When we moved here, we had nothing. We had sold all of our furniture on Craig's List to pay for the gas for the move. In our last apartment, we had moved very slightly up the furniture food chain. From the college crap, to the post-college hand me downs from the parents who are dying to redecorate.

Initially upon moving, I had hoped to buy new furniture. We had saved-up a small chunk of cash just for that purpose. However, a little something called "The Recession" mixed with utter apathy and laziness caused us to be unemployed for longer than intended. Goodbye little nest egg, I barely had a chance to meet you. Hence, we furnished our apartment via Craig's List and the Thrift Stores.

Honestly, I'm pretty proud. For under $600, I have a completely furnished apt. The best part: since it was all ridiculously cheap, I am not paranoid about any of it getting messed-up. Which is beyond convenient, since the odds of me spilling are better than the odds of today's episode of maury povich being about paternity tests. (ooo, snap!)

At this point, while my friends are being "young professionals" and starting to invest in their first sets of actual furniture, I am at a stage where IKEA would be a massive upgrade.

I often like to play a game called "dream house." Where I go to stores, and mentally pick-out what items I would get for my house if money weren't an issue. (yes, I made it up. no, it's not a real game. and nobody wins....especially whoever is stuck hearing me whine about the stuff)

Off the top of my head, I know exactly what kind of washer dryer i want for my future laundry room: front loading kenmore with a steam cleaning option (not like you asked, but I am telling you anyway)

I spend hours online, torturing myself. looking at pretty furniture, knowing there's no way in hell i could have any of the items.
This is how sad my fantasizing is: I catch myself looking for the frugal options!! It's pitiful that even in my dream world, I can't even bring myself to pay full price!

examples:

$1,200 Pottery Barn Sofa

$400 Ikea Option

$1,800 Pottery Barn Bed

$800 Overstock Option

If I could, I would live in a Pottery Barn catalog. I get so excited when it comes in the mail, I rush upstairs, lock the door and savor every page. It's like my porn. But if being frugal and buying knock-offs is what it takes for me to have cute furniture, then I'm game.

Seeing as how our mattress is currently on the floor, anything would be an upgrade.

Population: 250,000 + ME

I forgot to post this last weekend, (with the holiday distraction and the parents in town); but last Saturday was our official one-year anniversary of living in Madison.



We packed only what could fit in our two cars, and sold the rest. In 4 days, we crossed 8 states and drove over 1,200 miles. The best part, we moved during the most expensive gas prices in history. I was paying $4.20 a gallon to fill my suv.

Since it was the 4th, we arrived in Wisconsin under fireworks. It was so nice of our new state to put on a show just for us!

Before living here, i couldn't even find wisconsin on a map (no, i'm not proud of that fact, but seriously do YOU know where all the states are?)

Honestly, at this point, I can't ever picture leaving. I adore Madison. I could definitely see myself settling down here (sorry family! I know you'd like it if I lived closer, but you could move here too!)

So cheer's to you Madison, I think you're stuck with me for awhile!!!

A Picture Says 1,000 Words

(I stole this activity from Amber)

The rules are:
1. Go to your picture folder and pick the 6th folder and then the 6th picture.

2. Tell a story about that picture.

I am flattered that someone could assume I actually am organized enough to put pictures in "folders" and then put those folders in "order." Needless to say I had to cheat a little, and just pick a random folder. Nevertheless, here you go




Everyone, meet Baxter!

He is a 10mth old English Bulldog puppy, who belongs to my in-laws. He enjoys long walks on the beach, napping, and biting toes. He is generally outgoing, unless you are a tiny dog, then he is terrified of you and will hide behind whoever he can.

I haven't had the pleasure of meeting him yet. (I know, I know. I suck) But when The In-laws went to pick him up, he looked like this:



EEEK! SO CUTE!! It was all I could do to not drive down south and kidnap him immediately.

Here's some great pictures from the same folder of Baxter and Husband deep in conversation:






Cute, but they're probably discussing* something boring...like apartheid or nutrition.

*and Husband is totally doing the President Clinton hand, isn't he?!?

Happy Friday

I hope everyone's having a wonderful Friday. I thought I'd share my favorite video with you! (i think i've posted it on here before, but get over it) It's 21 seconds of happy. Enjoy!

The Parent Trap

This is what happens when you hang out with my parents:

Ignore the fact that I look terrible, and notice that we aren't matching at all





And yet somehow, my parents are so talented they were able to make all four of us match!



They're evil geniuses!

Welcome to my world nightmare.

Put A Ring on It

Although I find it news-worthy, due to the Jackson Memorial, it didn't get the media attention it deserved; but yesterday was Husband and I's Two Year Anniversary. Bring on the celebratory champagne!



















Good times, Good times.

no good very bad day

I have been yearning to own my own home ever since I finally got cable (at the very belated age of 17) and discovered HGTV, the best channel ever! (slightly kidding, slightly serious).

There are the obvious advantages about owning a home: I'd get to paint the walls, change the floors, etc.; but there are also some advantages you might not necessarily think about. Besides laundry, it would make my grocery shopping so much easier!!!

My parents are visiting this weekend. And since all I currently had in my fridge were 3 half-eaten cans of olives and a very questionable tub of sour cream, I decided to go to the grocery store. I called them to ask what they would like to have for the 4th and, in true Wisconsin form, they requested brats and beer (I'm not sure how a trip to the store for 2 items turned into 7 grocery bags and a triple-digit grocery bill, but I digress).

I drive home and illegally park behind my building so that I can unload the groceries. Husband is at work for the evening, so it's all me. I unload the bags 2 at a time, and set them on the front steps outside my building. The last thing I grab from the car is the watermelon. I had spent 5 minutes at the store debating between it and a pineapple, I now know which one I should have picked (and this, boys and girls, is what we call foreshadowing).

I pick it up, and it proceeds to roll directly out of my palm and onto the ground. Who knew they were so bouncy?? It jumps off the pavement and into the grass. After the initial panic, I look at it and realize that it's fine. A little dusty from gravel, but beyond that completely unscathed. Relieved, I walk it to the doorstep as well.

We have a rather heavy front door that locks on itself, and then it's a stair climb to our second-floor apartment. I have to form my body into a Twister game pose in order to hold the door open, put my keys in my pocket, and pick up my watermelon.

You'd think I had learned my lesson at the car, but no, first thing I pick-up is the watermelon. And AGAIN, it falls out of my hands. But this time, I am not so lucky. This time it splits right down the middle, and juice starts pouring out on my feet. Not only to I have to deal with a sticky porchmelon, but I also have 7 bags of groceries to manipulate upstairs.

I finally manage to get them all up, and it's time to unload the bags. Upon opening the fridge, I realize that there's more than just the sour cream, there's actually lots of questionable jars of "food". Holding my breath, I quickly fill the trash can and shut the lid. Once the groceries are in their respective homes, I decide to empty the trash can before the items begin to fester. I grab the overly heavy bag and run downstairs hoping to make it to the dumpster before it rips. I leave my door unlocked, and set the handy stuffed animal in the doorway of the front door, so it won't lock.

After walking through spider webs, and hiding all the evidence that I store old food like a hobby, I walk back to the door and to my horror I discover that the door.is.shut. Somehow in my rush, my trash bag must have moved the stuffed bear back into the entryway. I have no keys, and (after ringing all the doorbells several times) unfortunately find out that no one else is home.

I sit on the front steps for about 5 minutes (and may i point out that it's FREEZING today...in july), and then I think I remember hearing my neighbor once say that they keep a key under the doormat just in case something like this happens. I pull away at the dirty, mildewy mat to no avail. My heart instantly drops. Then, I see a tiny black rock on the edge of the stoop. IT'S A HIDE-A-KEY!!! I've never been so excited to see an "as seen on tv" products before in my life*!!!

I am finally back safe and sound. But I have learned my lesson...(and it's not the one you think): For years my mother has pestered me to dress better during the day. Normally, I go the grocery store dressed like a sweaty linebacker, but today I opted for slighlty more acceptable attire. And I am now covered in watermelon juice, nasty trash "juice", and spiderwebs. Awesome.

*and this even includes when my parents got me the perfect pancake maker for my 19th birthday. Which, while exciting, actually caused me to make worse pancakes.

Battle of the Network Stars

Husband and I were watching a delightful rerun of That 70's Show, when he announces: "I think Kitty and Red are my favorite tv parents"



They are quite entertaining, but I think they're his favorite mainly because he adores Kitty.



I thought about it for awhile, and decided that my favorite parents are Claire and Heathcliff Huxtable.



I loved how you got to see 2 sides of them. As the strict parents, and as the goofy loving couple.



What do you guys think? Are either of these your choices? Or do you have a better nomination?

Sorry about the weakness of this post. I've been wanting to write a new blog entry, but was unable to muster any actual creativity