Boo!

The day has arrived! The house has been spookified, orange and purple lights trail along like spider webs (or should I say along the spider webs?... I still haven't cleaned the house). The pumpkin has been carved with scary vampire fangs. Rio and I are decked out in our coordinated cowgirl outfits. Now we wait...

We're hoping the trick or treaters will brave the gloomy and windy weather, courtesy of Tropical Storm Noel, if only to help us empty the cauldron of candy I no longer want to eat. Not because I've decided to be good and watch my caloric intake, but because I've pretty much eaten all the good stuff. Only the crappy, non-chocolate candy is left!

Happy Halloween!

Splat!

Apparently I have angered the avian population. Today when I came out after work, I was aghast to see that my SUV had suffered a full on poop assault. You think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not. There was poop splattered on the hood, the roof, the side doors, and the back hatch. The cars parked on either side of me... completely clean. I did see a dead bird on the playground today, but I had nothing to do with the kill. Tomorrow I'm going to make sure to explain myself to the wind and hope that the word carries.

As long as we're on the topic of poo already, I thought I would share my I-almost-pulled-a-Jess-and-pooped-myself story. After my very wet and unpleasant Camp Creepy experience a couple of weeks back, the Girl Scouts sent me a thank you and $15 Starbucks card. I'm not a coffee drinker at all, but we have a Starbucks at our Target so I grabbed myself a Pumpkin Spice Latte while there running my errands. It was delicious!

Twenty minutes later, however, I was starting to feel a rumbling in my tummy. Uh oh. My cart was loaded with groceries and I still had to hit the produce section. I briefly considered abandoning my cart and hitting the restroom, but instead I just rushed through my shopping (guess I won't be eating any healthy produce this week) and headed for the checkouts. To my luck, I was the second person in line and it was a short drive back home. I made it with no time to spare!

Do they lace those things with laxatives? I guess I know how my husband stays so regular. Maybe I'll have to become a coffee drinker after all!

Return of the Klopeks

Jinkies! It seems I'm not the only one who likes Scooby Doo. You remember the Klopeks? The Czech family that obsessively gardens in their pajamas. Well, yesterday they were at it again. Mrs. Klopek was wearing a Tweety bird nightshirt that barely came to her thighs. (I'm hoping there were short shorts hidden under there, but I doubt it.) Mr. Klopek was sporting a white wife beater tank top and for shorts... wait for it... Scooby Doo boxers with Valentine's Day hearts!

Not that I should talk after yesterday. In the morning, there was a car accident right in front of our house. Some lady hit a parked car (that was on the other side of the street from the lane she should have been driving in, not sure what happened there.) Of course, all of us nosy neighbors ran out to see what happened... I mean to see if we could be of any assistance. I was barefoot and wearing short shorts and a pink tank top. Definitely clothes of the lounging quality, not suitable for wear in public. Worse yet, my hair was plastered to my head, tangled and misshapen from wearing it smushed underneath my Daphne wig the night before. Jon was shirtless, barefoot, and holding Rio in his arms. We were definitely rivaling the Klopeks for strange wear. But the difference is, we eventually went inside and cleaned up. They spent all day like that - gardening in their front yard!

Some people give Scooby Doo a bad name.

P.S.

Jon decided to join the land of the living. He just walked to the stairwell and announced: "Pancakes! The Donger needs food!"

What do you think? Should he keep the 'stache?

Zoinks!

The night in pictures:

Scooby Doo is my all-time favorite cartoon and I've always wanted to be Daphne for Halloween. Guess I can cross one more thing off my "to-do-before-I-die" list.

The Pistol temporarily standing in for Shaggy since the hubby and I went solo on the costumes this year.

Juan Cinco instead transformed himself into Juan Tequila. He made sure the night was a poppin' good time.

The nations of Mexico and Germany bonding over their mutual appreciation for alcoholic elixirs.

The Jer-Bear ala Reno 911. No costume shop props for him: the billy club, handcuffs and XTS3000 radio - all legit. Sometimes it pays to work for Motorola.

Later in the evening, he found someone to assist in his crime-fighting action. Though I'm not too sure this Security Guard would have been much help. Looks like he attended the Barney Fife training academy.

The night's costumes also included a pirate wench, a hippie chick, a renaissance girl, a dark angel, and Towelie from South Park, but I didn't want to post pics without their permission. If you would like your photo added, please email me your signed media release form. :)

As you can see, a great time was had by all. It was a smaller group than usual - we missed those of you who couldn't attend this year... especially you, Ryan. The night just wasn't the same without your "Flair." But we had new faces too. Thanks for putting up with our hijinks - we hope to see you again next year!

(Be sure to check out 21 Days from my links. I'm sure she'll have stories and photos posted soon as well.)

Friggin' Tired

The best laid plans...

Yesterday, I made mention that today I would clean the house. Well, I forgot to take into account the Higgins' Halloween Par-tay last night. We stumbled out at 2:30 am (a fact that Jon could not grasp). Here's a sample of our conversation on the drive home. You can insert "yes, yep, ya huh" for my answers to his first ten questions.

Jon: "it's 2:30 in the morning?... I haven't been up this late in years... it's 2:30 in the morning?... we were there for over seven hours?... I can't believe it's 2:30 in the morning... I wasn't wearing a watch... if you'd have asked me what time it was I would have said 11:30... wow, it's 2:30 in the morning..."

Me: "shut up, now it's 2:45..."

After a 4 hour nap, I am up because Rio demands it. Right now, I believe she is downstairs demanding that Jon get up too. Good luck with that, Rio. The last time I poked in he said: "au-to-mobile.... lake....big lake" aka Long Duck Dong in Sixteen Candles. I think that translates to I'm tired and I'm a bit hungover.

Anyway, I need to get all the photos uploaded and edited. I'll post the pics and full play by play of our costumed antics later... :)

Friggin' Lazy

So I finally have a relatively un-busy weekend with plenty of time to get my dang house cleaned. I'm not exaggerating - it really needs it! There is enough hair on the bathroom floor to be considered carpeting. (Yeah, I'm a shedder. That there is any hair left on my head at all is a miracle!) The sink is full of toothpaste and soap stains. It almost made me gag when I was cleaning up this morning. (Any normal person would have, but I have very strong anti-gagging reflexes. For instance: standing next to a fourth grader who is puking into my garbage can? Nothing. Sticking my finger down my throat? Nada. I blame all those strep throat tests I had as a kid, I was a pro at the cotton swab test.)

I was even up at 6:00 am this morning (I went to bed at a respectable 10:15 pm last night), but did I attack my chore list? Of course not! I fast forwarded through two hours of DVR'd programs, hung out with Jon, read, and now I'm wasting time on the computer. Conclusion: I'm just friggin' lazy and that's all there is to it!

Tonight I pray that I'm visited by magical little house elves...

The Price is Right

Today we had a teacher planning day so I was able to get almost everything prepped for next week. It feels glorious to be going into the weekend with so little on my "to do" list.

While working in my classroom, I decided to check out The Price is Right with new host Drew Carey. The Price is Right was always one of my favorite game shows. How could it not be? It's like 50 games shows rolled into one. If I ever got on contest row and then the big stage, there are a few games I would prefer: Plinko (how much fun would it be to drop that little puck between the spokes?); Safe Cracker (where you get to twist the big handles and pull on the ginormous vault door); the mountain man climber (not sure it's official name but the yodeling music cracks me up); and the dice game (when you roll the die and pick higher or lower to determine the price of a car... it's one of the more involved games so you'd get a little more stage time). As an aside, I was never a huge fan of the game where you had to ask "Gentleman, did I get at least one number right?" I did think it was cute, however, when in recent years they changed the wording to "Ladies."

Here are just a few of my random thoughts while watching The Price is Right today:
- T-shirts with homemade slogans, your college logo or your military affiliation (or better yet your entire uniform) are big "ins"
- most of the featured products and prizes are geared toward senior citizens (as are all of the commercials - each break featured at least one arthritis commercial)
- explaining the rules to the contests takes too long (we all know how to play, just get on with it)
- is Wilford (Wilfred?) Brimley still alive? ...if yes, why don't they update his diabetes tester commercial? (diabetes, another big one in the ads department)
- someone out there has a job that entails writing the corny scripts for the Showcase Showdowns
- Drew Carey is not that funny, but he did remind me to have my pets spayed or neutered

Speaking of the Showcase Showdown script, I have to tell you about today's. It was classically cheesy. Maybe that's why they wanted it to go with wine! It featured a Lucile Ball-esque character from the barefoot grape squashing scene. She was creating new wines: Spinfandel (the prize was a washer and dryer); Lardonnay (the prize was a tread mill to help reduce your lard - they actually said that!); and Pinot Greasio (the prize was a car obviously).

I feel sorry for the sad sack that had to write that. I'm sure he/she did need to consume several bottles of wine just to get through it!

Mirror, Mirror Part II

Since it will probably be a couple of weeks before I (ie Jon) actually get the mirror hung, you'll have to satisfy yourself with looking at it's catalog shot. Ikea's Mongstad Mirror, tah dah:

I think it looks best vertically, but the space we have to put it would require that it hang horizontally. I'm trying to get used to the idea!

It does match nicely with the dark brown leather sofa. :)

Mirror, Mirror...

... on the wall, who's the most pissed of husband of all? (Who knew Jon was so poetic! That ending rhyme was provided by him for your blogging pleasure tonight.)

After two and a half years of longing and semi-patient waiting, I finally have my Ikea mirror! I went to the store tonight after school and was ecstatic to see that 1) they were still carrying it and 2) they had it in stock!

I'm glad I waited to go until today: getting a parking space was easy; shopping, though crowded, was still pleasant (and I was able to get almost everything on my list - Ikea cutting boards!, kitchen glasses, some organizational items); and... wait for it... there were no lines at the checkout! I remember from the Houston Ikea that it was usually an average of a half hour to hour wait at the checkout. Not today. It may have been gloomy outside, but the sun was shining down on me in Ikea. :)

Here are the stats: it is roughly 3.5 feet by 6.5 feet (technically it's measured in metric, but since I have a hard time wrapping my mind around those figures, I need to do the conversion). The glass of the mirror is surrounded by a chunky dark wood frame (probably a good ten inches on each side). She set me back a fair price, though cheap by most mirror standards. Luckily, I fessed up to the real price - Jon had already snagged the receipt to see if I would lie to him... moi?

Since I arrived home, I've been rearranging and moving artwork to make room for it. In the resort business, we call this "the cabin 10 to cabin 7 to cabin 4 to the garage." (Anytime my grandparents bought something new, a couch for instance, it would go into their best cabin, #10. This would then start a chain reaction of moving and replacing couches in the other cabins. Oh, the good times!)

Anyway, after we figure out how to hang this behemoth, I'll snap some pictures and share. It was an Ikea-rrific day!

Site Meter

My friend Jess from 21 Days (sorry, I need to learn how to use the hyperlink function properly, right now all I can get it to do is post the whole long actual web address) has been talking about her site meter lately. It tracks the number of visitors to her blog and gives her all kinds of stats etc. Although the stats part of it sounds completely unnecessary to me, I did like the idea of having a counter.

Since my husband is out scuba diving tonight (with her husband actually), I had plenty of time on my hands to sign up for site meter myself. So if you scroll all the way down to the bottom of my page, you will see the tiny little number on the counter. I could have self-inflated the number, but I decided to be honest and start tracking from zero as of today.

I have a feeling this might drive me a little crazy. It might become like a watched pot and never count. In that case, one of two things will happen. I will become ultra-inspired to grab your attention and make you a loyal blog reader. My posts will be the smarter and funnier for all my extra effort. Or, more likely, I will become depressed, disillusioned and think constantly about termination... of my site meter, relax, or my blog... but don't let this pressure you into visiting more often... hint, hint!

Dryer Love

Jon and I are huge Seinfeld fans. We used to be able to watch the reruns every night during dinner, now we hardly ever catch an episode (damn you, the CW, for your constant rearranging of your syndicated show schedule...try saying that 5 times fast!). I can't even begin to list all my favorite episodes (there are too many of them), but a few always stand out in my mind:

- the marathon runner who overslept his race due to the radio alarm (damn, separate knob)

- the puffy shirt (need I say more?)

- Kenny Rogers chicken (when Jerry and Kramer switch apartments and, as a result, personalities)

- Kramer aka the moviefone (why don't you just tell me the movie you want to see?)

- the pinkie toe and the bus (now I'm driving the bus!)

- George pretending to be a marine biologist and removing Kramer's Titleist from a whale's blowhole (The sea was angry that day, my friends, like an old man trying to send back soup in a deli.)

I could go on, but I'll spare you... at least until another boring-nothing-to-blog-about-day. Anyway, another one of my faves was when Kramer discovered the benefit of wearing clothes straight out of the dryer. Later, he upgraded to the oven (or rather Jerry's oven).

Jerry: "You've got your shirt in my oven?"
Kramer: "Well, I didn't have enough quarters for the dryer!"

In truth, I find wearing clothes out of the dryer a wee bit dangerous. That button on your pants gets really hot and then presses up against your stomach - ouch! But sheets or towels out of the dryer are pure heaven. Apparently I'm not the only one who thinks so....

Bliss

Sunday morning came much too quickly yesterday and after my creepy Saturday, I sort of woke up on the wrong side of the bed. In fact, there seems to be a reoccurring pattern of my crabbiness on Sundays. (In the Fall, I suffer from Sunday Stress: a result of the pressure I put on myself to finish school work, housecleaning, laundry, bills, etc. - all before the 1:00 Vikings game.) So I was unexpectedly and blissfully happy when I found out we played at 4:00!

Not only would I have plenty of time to get things finished, I would also able to watch the game from the comfort of my own home. Not that I don't love going to our friend's house to watch the game (they have the NFL Sunday Ticket), but there is something about watching the Vikings in my own house that makes it feel like a MN day.

I finished all my school work and even had time to run to Borders to buy some new books before the game. I multi-tasked the laundry and the bills while watching the game and since there is a lot of dead time in football (you only have to look up for the play and then there is like a minute of replays) I was also able to read four back issues of Entertainment Weekly.

The only thing I neglected was cleaning the house - again! Although I have been vacuuming and spot-cleaning on the weekends, I haven't given the house an actual good cleaning in like two months. As I stare at the inch of dust on my computer shelf, I feel a bit guilty about this... though not guilty enough to actually get up and dust. I rationalize that the dust and cobwebs lend an authentic flair to my Halloween decorating!

Sadly, the Vikings lost but I really could have cared less. Besides when you're a Vikings fan, you become pretty accustomed to losing!

Camp Creepy

Picture it: 49 teenage Girl Scouts, 1 greyhound bus, a middle-of-nowhere camp "creepified" for Halloween, 4 hours of torrential rain, sopping wet clothes, wading ankle deep through a bizarre sand-mud combo, flooded out porta-pottys (sp?), an hour and a half wait in line for partially cooked chicken strips... At 7:30 last night, I was so over Camp Crappy...I mean, Creepy. I was wet, cold, miserable and ranking the day somewhere around 7th on my most un-fun experiences list.

By 8:00, I was engaged in a lively discussion with 4 girls about fantasy fiction, classic cartoons, and why I should consider leaving behind Kindergarten (where I don't teach a subject) for 8th grade something. By 8:30, the rain had stopped and my new gal pals and I were finally able to explore and enjoy our last hour at the camp.

I don't have too much else to say about that, sorry. Mostly I'm itching to get downstairs to start reading the book they recommended...

Turn on the Frogs

Occasionally I have a funny "bedroom story" to share, but I've been struggling to come up with the appropriate euphemism before doing so. Our local radio station, for instance, refers to it as going "bowling." But since Jon and I actually are part of a summer bowling league and I play for an all girls team... well, I wouldn't want anyone to get confused! So if you have any suggestions (PG-13 suggestions...this isn't the Penthouse Forum), you'll have to let me know. For now, I'll do my best to create a picture of last night's scene:

Sexy lingerie - $50.
Scented candles - $20.
Mood music from your Creative Zen MP3 player - $150.
Fake french maid accent - $0.
Your husband slamming on the brakes, turning his head away to ask...
"Can we kiss?" - priceless.

Apparently I mentioned earlier in the week that I thought my snot-nosed kids were giving me a cold. Hysterical laughter ensued, a Pretty Woman-esque no kissing rule was discussed but dismissed (if I do get sick, I am in such trouble!), the mood was re-established and we were able to press on.

Afterwards, we lay snuggling and about to drift asleep when I heard the softest of whispers from my husband. Was he telling me how beautiful I was... how much he treasured having me in his life? No. He said: "Do you know what would make this even more amazing? If you would roll over and turn on the frogs?"

*In case you're wondering, that isn't a euphemism for anything. He's actually referring to our soothing sounds machine.*

Ahhh, just like in the movies, right?

Rio vs. the Intruder

Several nights ago, we had an intruder in the house. An intruder of the lizard variety! Jon was the first to spot him and since he has amazingly fast reflexes (seriously, I should have added that to my list of things I love about him - he's freakishly fast and calm in emergency situations), he managed to fly across the room and scoop the thing up in his hands before I could finish saying "whhhhaaaa?"

My first thought was cockroach so of course I'm flipping out a little bit. This is where Jon miscalculated. Instead of saying, "it's fine... it's only a lizard," he opened up his hands to show me his catch. Well, that was all the opportunity that lizard needed. (It was not Blacky, by the way, in case anyone of you remember him from my Lizard Chair post. I still see him chillin' like a villain in the chair.) That lizard leaped to save his little lizard life and scurried under the couch. Not a problem with Rio the Lizard Hunter around, right?




Wrong! She and Jon got out the flashlight and everything, but they couldn't find that sneaky thing. Eventually, we all gave up and went to bed.

I assumed that Rio (with her quarter-sized brain and all) forgot about the lizard. Now I'm not so sure. The other night she became obsessed with the couch, running and sniffing and demanding to look under the cushions.



Sadly, she didn't find anything (except for some stray popcorn pieces which she promptly devoured).

Battle 1 to the intruder, but this isn't the end of the war....

P.S.

(Okay, I'm back. I had to run downstairs to eat bef, grill potatoes, and salad. No that wasn't a typo. Jon bought some strange pre-made meatloaf reminiscent of the frozen turkey loaf. I'll admit it was flavorful and pretty good, but I don't think it was beef.)

For those of you who were curious, I passed on Ikea's grand opening today. It seemed too insane, even for an Ikea lover like myself. I did do a little drive by after work just to witness the chaos from the car though. It looked like a good turnout. :)

More than Meets the Eye

After being pulled out of the classroom all day yesterday to analyze data, I came home exhausted and "shaky." I knew I wasn't going to be sick, but I had no energy and that weird woozy feeling. So it was sweatpants, couch and Transformers for me! (Yes, I did manage to have enough energy to run to Target to buy the DVD on its release date. )

Even though I am an only child, I grew up with what I consider siblings. My parents' best friends, our next door neighbors, had three kids. They had one girl (a couple of years older than me) who I looked up to and adored. She was the coolest in my eyes - still is actually! They also had two boys (one close to my age and one younger) so I grew up playing with them. They had all the Transformers, so I remember the movies from my childhood... and the devastation we all felt when we thought Optimus Prime had died!

Well anyways, as my friend Peggy says, I loved the movie. I thought it was action-packed, funny, had great special effects, and my crush, Shia LaBeouf, was the star. I *heart* Shia! I saw it twice in the theaters and was quite excited to watch it with Jon to get his reaction. Although he was not stoked to see it, he did say that he was really impressed and that he did enjoy it after all.

When you're talking about Transformers, there's always "more than meets the eye!"

Is it just me...

or is it a little disconcerting to watch a TV commercial about birth control pills with the song "We're Not Gonna Take It Anymore!" playing in the background?

Black Toe Down

I break blood vessels very easily (in myself, not in other people’s faces or anything!). I usually break them in my eye. I have no idea how or why this happens. One time, I broke one underneath my upper eyelid and the blood oozed down on both sides of my iris – very spooky looking…sadly, it wasn’t Halloween. I also on occasion break them in my hands or fingertips. These hurt like a SOB. It’s not the result of some great force or impact either. I am going to grasp a pencil and wham!

Over the weekend, I broke one in my toe on my right foot. The second in command toe to be specific. Again, no blunt trauma - I was sitting in a chair at my computer. I moved my foot and kaboom! It hurt like a &^%#* (insert curse word of choice)! The area around the broken blood vessel is always very tender so I immediately limped downstairs to put on a pair of cushy running socks. (Do not ask me why I own these - I haven’t “run” since 1994. In truth, I only own 5 pairs of socks and they are all white. I prefer socklessness in shoes or barefootedness preferably.) Anyway, I didn’t give my little soldier too much more thought, except for a couple of times when I over-exerted him during his rehabilitation period.

Imagine my surprise then when today, while sitting on the toilet to pee, I looked down and gasped at my now black toe. Apparently, I broke both blood vessels that run up the sides of the toe. They are now huge and purplish-black and kind of meet in the middle underneath my nail. Gruesome! At least it’s closer to Halloween this time…

Open Water

My day was completely uneventful yesterday. The good news is I put in a long days work and was able to finish all my lesson planning and grading so I can play hookie from school work today. I'm heading out with some friends to see the Broadway production of The Wedding Singer. It can't possibly be as funny without Adam Sandler but it should be a rockin' good time.

It was Jon who had the interesting day yesterday. As a dive master, he often goes out with his dive shop to help with their scuba classes. Yesterday was the check out dive for one of their Advanced Open Water classes. He'd been watching the marine forecast for days since we've had some iffy weather here recently. They were still predicting 4-6 foot waves with even bigger swells but since the class had already been canceled once due to poor weather, both Jon and the instructor agreed to give it a go. Jon has great sea legs so he wasn't concerned for himself, but he knew it would be rough for some of the students.

Everyone fared well on the way to the first dive (a 70ft dive at the Wreck of the Ancient Mariner). Fifteen minutes into the dive, the dive instructor motions to Jon that one of the student is low on air. Jon checks his own gauge and is sitting at about 2000 psi. This guy was down to 750 psi - he was really gulping down his air apparently. Obviously, Jon has to take the guy and his dive partner (his wife) back up to the surface.

After a few minutes, the dive instructor and the rest of the class meet them to wait for the boat. Jon can tell immediately that something is wrong just by the look on the dive instructors face. He lost two of the students and can't find them! Visibility in the water was poor and the current was really ripping so this is not good. Leaving the class on the surface to wait, they both head back down and search the wreck making sure no one is trapped or worse...

Jon was calm and assumed the guys had just drifted down current. The dive instructor was freaked (in all his years he's never lost anyone before and felt really responsible since it was on his watch). They didn't find anything at the wreck and by the time they made it to the surface again, Jon could see the dive boat about 200 yards downstream making a stop and picking up the two strays. It turns out that while the guys were making their way up the tow line back to surface, they somehow lost the line. They continued to ascend but the current pulled them way off course. Whew!

The dive instructor scolded the two for not inflating their safety sausage to signal boats when they were on the surface. (It's one of the emergency skills they are taught in this very course). One of the guys looked around, "what boats?" he joked. Theirs was literally the only boat out on the water in such rough seas.

On the way to the second dive, the pukey-pukey started. A couple of the students were hanging over the edge, but they all managed to pull it together for their second dive at the Abbytoo reef. It was supposed to be about a 45 foot dive, but the dive instructor headed west instead of east when they were in the water (he was still a bit shook up from the last dive). Jon tried to swim to catch him to turn him around, but with the current he couldn't catch up. He just let him lead them off course. They ended up diving another 80 foot dive just to reach the reef.

The rest of the dive was pretty uneventful. Jon said it was an interesting experience since he was the one carrying the rope for the dive flag that is bobbing around at the surface. With waves that size, it was jerking him up and down a couple of feet the entire dive.

The scheduled night dive was canceled so Jon returned home early and it looks like he won't be heading back out today either, which is probably a good thing. Considering it's a class of 7, one could say that yesterday 1/3 of the class was puking and 1/3 of the class went missing! Not the most impressive stats.

This is why I don't dive!

California Curd

Last night, we had the perfect end to our busy week. Our friends invited us over to their place for their famous Chicken Pot Pies (they did not disappoint!), some games (we learned how to play Mexican Train dominoes and Jon happily derailed us), some Halloween candy (I cannot resist their mini-sized chocolaty goodness) and lots of laughs.

While we were there, we got to talking about puzzles and the husband proceeded to bring out some of the puzzles his mom sends him as gifts. They were a crud assortment of garage sale finds each one more interesting than the last, but our favorite was entitled California Curd. Still shrink-wrapped and hailing from 1970-something, the cover art showed a photo of what looked like barf sprinkled with half-digested fruit pieces. This has to be the worst looking puzzle I've ever seen and yet his mom (out of total love for him) saw it, thought of him, and couldn't pass it up.

We've all received these gifts in the past. The ones that pucker your face in shock and horror which you quickly try to mask as surprise and joy while racking your brain for an appropriate expression of thanks: "wow, I've always wanted a _____!" fill in the blank with wacky gift of your choice.

There are: the re-gifts (you received too many heart shaped photo frames as wedding gifts, please re-gift one to me); the bonus gifts (you bought the fancy makeup for yourself, feel free to gift me the bonus bag minus any of the goodies inside you wanted to keep for yourself); the pre-owned gifts (thanks for thoughtfully testing it out and determining it was not-quite-up-to-your-standards-but-adequate-enough-for-mine); and the puzzling gifts (like the aforementioned jigsaw classic, a clown music box - when I neither like nor collect clowns, and my all time favorite: the lady down the street who received an ice auger from her husband for Christmas - even though she had never ice fished nor planned to do so!)

We're all guilty of sending, and have humorous tales about receiving, these gifts. So what is the worst you have sent or received?

Happy Birthday Jon!

Sorry I couldn't post yesterday. Even though today is technically Jon's birthday, we started celebrating early. There's an old joke in my family that we celebrate birthdays for 2 days (as this was the excuse my Mom gave when refusing a guy who asked her out) so we try to make it true as often as possible.

Last night, we headed out to a Jai-alai match with our gang of friends (or at least those who could make it - we begrudgingly forgive those of you who could not) and were able to cross off one more item on our list of "things to do when you live in Florida." It's only taken us 7 years, but we did it. Bonus: it was 99 cent night (hot dogs, chicken wings, beer, margaritas). Though advertised as 99 cents, a surprising amount of things actually cost $1.00 - wtf? :)

For those of you who have never been, I would describe Jai-alai as a cross between: tennis, wally ball, track ball, and pong. It's a pretty simple game to follow, only the scoring seemed complicated. Or possibly it's just that all simple addition seems complicated to me after too many margaritas...

Numerous bottles of water later, I am feeling about ready for night number 2. Jon is impatiently waiting downstairs for me to post so we can open the mound of presents that have been shipped in from our geographically scattered family. First, I wanted to wish him a blogtastic 31st birthday. I don't know what I ever did to deserve meeting the love of my life when I was only 16 years old, but I thank my lucky stars every day.

Here is just a small sampling of his finer points:
- he makes me laugh out loud every day
- he takes care of Rio (by doing all the things I promised I would do if we got a dog, but don't)
- he's multi-talented and can fix just about anything that's broken
- he's not afraid to do the supposed "unmanly" things (buy tampons, color my hair, watch romantic comedies)
- he looks like Enrique Iglesias
- he is the most genuine person I know
- he's an amazing cook
- he puts the above skill to use a lot and doesn't complain
- he puts up with me!

I love you! Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday Rio!

It turns out October 8th is Rio's birthday. See I'm not a bad mother - I had it programmed in my Palm Pilot! Sadly, I had Girl Scouts and Jon had basketball last night so poor Rio didn't exactly get to celebrate her 5th birthday in style. She did get lots of treats and new plushy, squeaky toys though.

Not that I'm bragging, but Rio knows all of her toys by name and will retrieve them and play with them when you ask. Since she has an entire crate full of toys, it's hard to always be creative with names. This new one was christened "Jungle Monkey." She also got "Bobber" and "Piggy" and a yet to be handed out "Dodo Bird." It was too much excitement for one night, Dodo will have to wait.

Happy Birthday to our little lover, great white hunter, midget polar bear!

Casa del Crappo

Yesterday, Jon and I ran some errands together! I know this doesn't sound amazing, but it is. Since I tend to leave the majority of my lesson planning until the weekend, this is something we never seem to do anymore. It was quite pleasant... even though the stores were overcrowded!

Afterwards, Jon suggested we grab a quick bite to eat. I immediately thought of this little hole in the wall place that we've been talking about going to for years (they have weird hours so we never seem to time it just right). We arrived with high hopes but were quickly let down. The absence of customers probably should have told us something.

I had the most blah burrito ever (no sauce, no cheese) and Jon had some interesting "tacos": a strange flat corn shell, a couple pieces of unseasoned beef, lots of onions and instead of lettuce...cilantro. I love cilantro (would eat it in anything or wear it as a perfume if possible), but still a weird taco. Our recommendation: pass on Casa del Crappo and head to Moe's instead!

Thankfully, Jon made tilapia in a spicy cream and cilantro sauce for dinner with shrimp kabobs and some type of "clam cake" served right in a clam shell so this more than made up for our culinary disappointment!

Meet the Klopeks!

I apologize for the sleepless night you all must have had, tossing and turning and wondering about the Klopeks. I'll get to their story today, but first I have some other interesting neighbors...

First, the best of the interesting: Venessa. When Venessa moved in across the street a couple of years ago, I immediately launched Operation Get to Know My Neighbor. (This is actually what I called it. Yes, I know, apparently I am also an interesting neighbor.) After bribing her with baked goods (she has a weakness for my Peanut Butter Temptations), we became fast friends. Having her across the street, reminds me of home. My parents lived next door to their best friends when I was growing up. Of course we took the best yearly vacations together and their kids became like the siblings I never had, but it was the most fun getting together for those spur of the moment things. Brownies fresh out of the oven? Come on over. Bored during a blizzard? Shovel a path and walk. Saturday morning cartoons? No need to even change out of your pajamas! That is what Venessa and I have. Making meatloaf and realize you have no ketchup? It's only a knock away. Have too much for supper and don't want the leftovers? Pick up the phone and call (all the other has to bring is 6 oreos in a bag!). So if you think you might be living next door to your very own Venessa, I highly recommend you implement Operation Get to Know Your Neighbor.

Then there's Dave. When we first moved in, I wasn't too sure about Dave. He worked from home and had a vast arsenal of weaponry and equipment in his living room. I kind of suspected that he was the Unabomber. Sorry, Dave! I'm happy to say that I was wrong. He and Jon have gotten to know each other over the years and they share a lot of the same interests: remote control gadgets, saltwater fish tanks, scuba diving, and machine guns. Dave is great to have next door in an emergency (like when your favorite clown fish dies and is about to be eaten by the rest of the tanks inhabitants and your husband is out of town and you're crying hysterically and wondering what to do) and/or in the event of WWIII.

Finally, the Klopeks. The Klopeks are Romanian and they are obsessive about their landscaping and their driveway. I'm sure they've never received a warning letter from the HOA. The unusual part is that they prefer to garden and clean in their pajamas. Mr. Klopek wears a pair of boxers and a T-shirt. Mrs. Klopek wears a cartoon character sleeping shirt that barely covers her rear end. When she bends over I tend to avert my eyes, so I'm not certain if she wears anything underneath it. Grandma Klopek wears a housecoat. They too rarely leave their house (other than to venture outside into the yard, work like elves in pajamas, and retreat). The really shocking part is they have a son, a son you almost never see. I once saw the boy outside when he was about 10. The next time I saw him he was 15. For five years, he never made an appearance. I'm hoping he's not locked up in their basement - otherwise my life will have come full circle.

There are more unusual suspects on Wisteria Lane, but I won't bore you with any more stories... at least not today...

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

I have the most interesting neighbors. I know you're all thinking, I have interesting neighbors too, but this goes beyond that. As I look back through my life I realize that I am a bizarre neighbor magnet. Here's just a brief rundown:

Growing up in Minnesota, I lived next door to a man who collected spiders. Not tarantulas that he kept in a terrarium... we're talking big, hairy, garage spiders. If you came across a particularly disgusting one, he would come and take it for you. I believe he may have been eating them, not sure. It also turned out he locked his daughter up in the basement, so not a nice or normal man actually.

In college, I lived next door to my own version of the naked guy. I discovered this fact when he once invited my roommate and I over. His roommate opened the door (thank god) as he was lying naked on the couch with only a book on his lap (double thank god). That was an awkward visit.

In Texas, Jon and I lived next door to the fence jumper. Okay, so I kind of miss the fence jumper. Every morning he would walk to a tall fence that divided our apartment complex from a large parking lot for a corporate park. He would place his briefcase on top of the ledge, perform a gymnastic-style pommel horse maneuver and land on the other side. Straighten out the khakis, retrieve the briefcase, and hi ho, hi ho, off to work he goes. It was a creative commute!

Then there were the mysterious neighbors from our first townhouse in Florida. They had strange people (primarily women) coming and going at all hours of the day and night. One night while eating dinner near our paper thin adjoining wall, I remarked to my husband that I assumed they were running a prostitution ring. They packed up and moved out in the middle of the night - seriously! If I had known that it would be that easy to get rid of them, I would have said something sooner. (As an aside, the people who moved in after them almost burned down their unit and ours, so in the end, I actually kind of missed the pimps.)

Which brings me to our current neighbors. I've been collecting data on these people for years now, but unfortunately I'll have to leave you in suspense until tomorrow. Look for the shocking conclusion to Won't You Be My Neighbor? in tomorrow's edition: Meet the Klopeks!

What's Your Sign?

I received the below horoscope in an email today. (It said I will have 8 years of bad luck if I do not forward. I sooo love when I'm being bullied in an email. Although my usual response is to delete and tempt the fates, I've been feeling a bit off ever since a black cat ran out in front of my car. I thought I would semi-cave and hope that posting it counts.)

PISCES - The dreamer, generous, kind, and thoughtful. Very creative and imaginative. May become secretive and vague. Sensitive. Don't like details. Dreamy and unrealistic. Sympathetic and loving. Kind. Unselfish. Good kisser. Beautiful.

What do you think? Does that sound like me? I agree with some and do not agree with some others. I won't admit to which! Though I have always thought I was a good kisser and am glad to finally have it confirmed. (Yes Jon and I tell each other we are good kissers, but what do we know? We've only been kissing each other for the last 16 years. He was a bit of a boy-slut before he met me so at least he does have some comparisons to make... me? no.)

Anyway, here's hoping the stars and moon are aligned over the weekend....

Funny Girl

I had my kids laughing their cute little tushies off today. This always surprises my husband because to him I'm really not that funny. I don't often come up with that perfect one liner (at least not until later that night when I'm home lying in bed). I am completely incapable of remembering or delivering a joke (but since the invention of email forwards, who really needs that skill anymore?). I guess you could say that I'm more likely to be the laugher than the laughee.

But somehow I've managed to find the exact right way to make a group of 5 year-olds erupt into uncontrollable hysterics: self-deprecating humor. They may not understand sarcasm, but my kids love when I make fun of myself. Pretend to make a mistake, stick a post-it note to your forehead, sing off-key, draw a horrible sketch (I don't even have to fake these last two - I have no artistic talents) and my kids will practically pee their pants. The best part is after they've had the fun of laughing at my expense, they shower me with compliments.

Teaching Kindergarten is very good for one's self esteem. I'm always their favorite, prettiest, bestest teacher ever!

My Night

Here is a sampling of my list of chores for tonight:

- shop for intimate apparel and ice cream
- sort 4 bags of pennies
- nag Jon to put new tabs on license plates (Why wouldn't I just do it myself? you ask. We have a strict division of labor: I do nothing outside of the house - yard work, taking out the trash etc - and the cars are outside in the driveway. So there.)
- practice making a firetruck out of graham crackers and frosting
- unload the dishwasher
- google Boris Kodjoe (extremely hot guy I must check out, apparently)
- put away laundry that's hanging all over the laundry room (I have a fear of using the dryer on anything. Not sure why I even have one...oh yeah, towels.)
- fast forward through Dancing with the Stars to see who was eliminated
- look up Rio's birthday (Suddenly can't remember if it is Oct 6th or 8th? Bad Mommy!)
- eat something (I haven't eaten since "lunch" 10:41 - 11:11)
- blog (at least I've accomplished something!)

P.S. I was going to call this post Hump Night (since it is Wednesday) but changed my mind after re-reading chore number one. I thought it might give you all the wrong impression!

TV Tuesday

Jon and I need a night of absolute laziness and relaxation. Besides, the DVR is full of premiere week shows we haven't yet had the chance to watch: My Name is Earl... need I say more?

It's Official

Ikea opens Wed. Oct 17th!

I'm torn. Part of me wants to rush over there the first day, I mean this is a momentous occasion. I have been waiting years for Ikea to come! (If I had known that there was no nearby Ikea when I moved from Houston, well I might not have come.) Plus there are several items I want to purchase before they sell out. I'm too impatient to wait for them to restock.

The more sensible and rational part of me says, stay away! They are expecting 10,000 + visitors. It will be crowded and miserable. Then again, that sounds like every day at Ikea. What to do??

For now, I'm practicing my pronunciation of Swedish product names, picking out a blue and yellow outfit to wear, and dreaming about Swedish meatballs and lingenberries. I *heart* Ikea!