Think of the story you'll tell your kids...

We apparently set some sort of land speed record on our way down to Virginia this weekend for my sister’s wedding and arrived just in time to meet up with Lil Sis in tears at the front desk of the hotel. It was revealed that after our dad met the groom’s parents for the first time, Lil Sis backed the rental car into a tree next to the driveway and smashed its tail light and bumper… all while her future in-laws watched from the front door.
Fortunately, it was the worst things would get and the rest of the weekend went off without a hitch (well, except for the one that joined the bride and groom). We laughed, we cried, we ate more than is acceptable at various buffets (the South is good at buffets), we paid $12 for lunch at a rest stop Burger King and we arrived home completely exhausted. Doesn’t get much better than that.

i would not look good with antenae.

we did some gardening and yard clean up this weekend. and unfortunately, i got bit by something. i'm a little worried because my best guess is that it was a spider. which would make this my second bug other than bee or mosquito in one year.

if i wake up tomorrow with super sensitive senses and fantastic abs, i'm so not going to work. (although, a radioactive spider bite is a small price to pay for such incredible muscular definition. and it makes me wonder what spidergirl would look like....)

we are such fun in public places

so KAT didn't post on it, so i will.

saturday night we started what i hope will be at least a monthly tradition of eating out together. okay. so we actually eat out together a lot -- but it's usually in a diner, and it's usually for breakfast and rarely do either KAT or I have eyeliner on.

i'm not sure what precipitated it, but we made plans to go to a restaurant for sat. night. this is something most normal adults do with other adults, but honestly, usually it's just me and j, and it's usually reserved to a handful of restaurants that we've already been to.

but to be clear, in case it isn't already, we are not four normal adults. j is our straight man, i suppose (side note, my husband just called me at work and randomly called me his little princess. which... okay. in the words of avril lavigne, maybe i am a "m@#%her #@%in princess"). the rest of us -- well forget it. there is no rhyme or reason to our antics. like for instance, the stair dance that KAT did for the entire restaurant as she walked down the stairs in a groucho marx fashion). kat and i are the loud ones, and the ph is the also a kind of straight man, but one who busts out spot on imitations, funny dance moves and also one with fantastic funny stories.

the great thing about eating out with friends that you love -- particularly funny friends that don't care if the table next to you is hanging on to your every word - is that a) no one cares when you reach across the table rudely to grab the last roasted garlic clove b) someone else will always order martinis with you and c) chances are at least one other person will eat red meat besides you.

oh -and most importantly -- they will also be willing partners to mock middle aged women at the bars pretending they're 21. and guys who don't get that the women they're hitting on are so not interested.

Does it make me look fat?

Ok, all you commenters who begged to see what my mustache from being in the sun all weekend looks like have worn me down. (And no, I'm not delusional. I know only Molly really asked for it. But I'm sure you're curious too. Or, like Molly, you just can't wait to mock me.) So scroll down for the evidence...


















Be honest. Is it noticable?

A post from Burt Reynolds Jr.

A word to the wise: Having sweat on your upper lip from playing two games of soccer in the hot sun and getting tan from said sun may result in… an upper lip darker than the rest of your face! Who knew?!?

So I’m sporting a bit of a ‘stache… and my sister’s wedding is Saturday. Here’s hoping it fades before then. And no, I will not be posting photos. It’s embarrassing enough as it is without having the entire Internet laugh at my pain.

So instead we stare at the radio...

Pick a television show… any television show… and ask me about it. Five dollars says I get the answer wrong. As part of the moving process, the Pretend Husband and I have yet to order cable for our new house. And the cable we had before we moved was very limited. So while I was completely up-to-date on any show on Bravo, I had little knowledge about any MTV reality show or what HGTV even looks like these days.

The weird part about all this is, I don’t miss TV at all. I thought I would. I’m the type who puts it on as soon as she gets home from work and has it on for most of the evening in the background. I’ve also been known to arrive home from work brain dead and need the boob tube on to relax without thinking for a bit. Instead, I’ve been reading, working on craft projects, going for walks with Molly and getting our house cleaned and organized.

There are some television shows I know about even without wanting to. Did you know it is impossible to avoid American Idol? I don’t even like the show, but I know about the Sanjaya fiasco and I know he got booted off yesterday from my devotion to reading the news on the Internet. But I’m not sorry I missed seeing all his horrendous performances, or the coverage of Anna Nicole Smith’s death or pretty much any sitcom other than “The Office.”

We’ve managed to get our fix of television between borrowing movies from the library and once-a-week trips to the Pretend In-laws’ to watch “The Office.” In fact, those have turned into mini pajama parties, where we show up in flannel pants, curl up on the sectional sofa under blankets and catch up during the commercials. I’m thinking of trying to keep the tradition alive even after we get cable just because it appeals to my love of ridiculous situations (It’s a pajama party! For adults! With my future in-laws! And did I mention we’re wearing pajamas? It doesn’t get much funnier than that).

So I guess we’ll get cable eventually (I suggested not ever getting it and the PH actually yelled at me so I can assure you nothing that radical will ever happen in our house). But I’m not in any rush. With our wedding fast approaching and eighty billion projects I have to complete before that happens, I don’t need the distraction anyway.

My heart is heavy

While it’s tempting to say there are no words for what happened at Virginia Tech yesterday, what kind of writer would I be if I couldn’t find some way to express my feelings about it? Not to mention the fact that writing is one of my outlets. And I have to think if I’m this sick about the rampage that killed more than 30 faculty and students at the university, you probably are too.

While I have sympathy for whatever illness drove the gun man to kill so many people before apparently taking his own life, I’m mad too. It’s one thing to take your own life, it’s a whole other story to take innocent people along with you.

I’m not so old that I don’t remember what it was like to be in college. The days filled with more free time than time spent in class. The nights spent partying or hanging out with friends pondering the meaning of life. The injustice of having only a few dawn hours to write a 10-page paper when we had known about the deadline for two weeks. Despite sometimes feeling like life was so hard, we had the freedom of being supported by Mom and Dad’s dime and the choice of how we wanted to spend our time. Life was good.

One student in a classroom on the floor above where the shootings took place said her class heard the shooting, but thought it was hammering from an ongoing construction project in the area. And really, in that environment, should anyone have thought anything else?

I’m sad for all of the families and friends and fellow students mourning loved ones today. And I’m pissed about someone who was so cowardly and so angry that he could not go out by himself, but had to alter so many lives in the process. What he did was unconscionable.

In such an awful situation, I feel it’s the victims who deserve to be remembered and talked about more than the coward who killed them. May God bless them all.

Completely random and totally funny

Female married co-worker: "You told me I can't have a cabana boy."

Single male coworker: "I didn't say you couldn't have one. I said it wasn't feasible to keep two cabana boys in your apartment."

bang! bang!

Notice anything different? (I bet you didn't. Since I used the same exact opening line as KAT).

I know what you're thinking. Dear GOD she's actually using capitalization! But no, it's not that.

I *did* get my hair cut. All of them in fact, and in particular, my bangs. I'm not sure if this was the best decision I've ever made, in fact. I have what they call "chinese bangs." And seeing as I am not Chinese, I'm not sure if they actually go with the rest of me. I'm actually considering now coloring it dark brown in an effort to look exactly like the cover of Amelie. Except my eyebrows aren't that arched, and I'm not that skinny or French. But I'm totally that pale.

So the jury is still out. But hair grows back (this is what I told my husband, who's not the biggest fan of the Vidal Sassoon circa 1968 look). I'm just not so sure how many hats I'll have to wear between now and next month when they've grown to the tip of my nose.

Tackling technology one keystroke at a time...

Notice anything different? Nope, I didn't get a haircut. This is a new shirt, but that's not it...

I moved our blog title down so you can see that we're called "Funny Gals" and not just the jumble that was the lower half of our name. And you know what? It only took me two months and three tries to do it!

For my next trick, I'm going to figure out how to send an email to more than one person at a time!


(As much as I like to brag about my Internet "skillz," I was loathe to post and knock down our list of fabulous blogs for you to visit. Make sure you scroll down or check out the list in the sidebar-- now with the added bonus of Overheard in NY-- for ways to waste your time at work... um, I mean, fun blogs to read.)

Funny Gals we like to read...

Ok, now that I've been promising this for more than a year, I think it's about time to direct you to some other sites written by some very funny gals (not the Funny Gals of course, because we have effectively taken control of that blog name, but still pretty funny gals... and guys). And, um, the timing of this post has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that I have nothing else to write about. Purely coincidental.

Personally, I have put a lot of research into this, spending hours (usually when I'm supposed to be doing something else) going through dozens of blogs to find the perfect ones.

Not that we don't want you as readers, of course. In fact, we hope that you will still use Funny Gals as your home page and refresh it every few minutes on the off chance KAT had something exciting happen to her or gasp! SJ decides to deign us with her presence and actually post.

Anyway, check out these funny gals:
We've been pointing you toward our Internet friend Molly for awhile now, especially since she's the one who, without even knowing what fabulous people we are in real life, helped us get our blog designed. We drink martinis in her honor on a regular basis.

Damomma is also a very fun blog to read. And she's a published author now so, you know, she's kind of living the life we hope to lead someday (although hopefully with less vomit).

My new favorite blog is Oh, the Joys, written by one funny mom. It's the kind of blog that you visit once and get so fixated one, you're likely to spend all your time at work going through the archives and may possibly forget to lay out the paper. Not that I'm speaking from experience or anything.

One that doesn't get updated as frequently as it should (not that we're ones to talk) is Bill Zam. In the interest of disclosure, we should say that both SJ and I know Bill Zam in real life. If his blog is half as funny as he is in real life, you're in for a wild ride. Luckily, it's twice as funny so you may actually die from laughing too hard and forgetting to breathe. You've been warned.

Another completely random find is 123 I Love You, which isn't half as lame as the title suggests. It's written by an English teacher who may or may not be Canadian, but is definitely unlucky in love and in life. And what other reason is there to read blogs other than to feel like maybe your life isn't so bad?

I'm sure I'll have some more suggestions as my "research" continues. In the meantime, happy reading. And don't forget where you came from (www.funnygals.blogspot.com). Y'all come back now, ya hear?

Help! I'm being attacked by a chocolate bunny!

So much for the diet!

We purposely didn't buy any Easter candy for each other this year, what with all the weddings to get in shape for. Plus the candy was expensive and we're always looking to save a buck.

But I didn't factor in PMS and a craving for chocolate that is so great, I'd consider running over small animals if it got me to the cabinet faster. Nor did I think about how that one, small bite would not be enough and I would be forced to eat more to satisfy the cravings.

And I forgot about the post-Easter sales, the ones where all the candy (the Peeps! and the peanut butter eggs! and the jelly beans!) get marked down by 50 percent, enough of a deal that the Pretend Husband and I were able to buy an entire shopping bag of candy (and milk to wash it down) for less than $10.

If you need me, I'll be gorging on chocolate over here in the corner, far, far away from the scale.

The Female of the Species...

It’s been a long time since I’ve been on any kind of trip with my sisters and mother. I think maybe since elementary school, in fact. It may have involved back to school clothing shopping. Actually, all of our family trips were pretty much us girls but my dad was always there, our chauffeur to the outlet stores, our navigator and alas, the main controller of the radio (thus, an endless stream of country music featuring the Judds, Kenny Rogers and Johnny Cash. And Alabama.)

You may think: Your poor dad. Three girls and the wife. But really, it wasn't that bad for him. He was kept amused by pennysaver weekly papers and real estate trades. And of course, the occassional trip for atomic fireballs. (One thing about traveling with my dad: he NEVER stops for normal meals. He thinks breakfast at 5a.m. can sustain you for 12 hours.)

So this weekend I traveled five hours north – practically to Canada – to attend the Relay for Life at SUNY Plattsburgh. It was for my cousin, whose mom (my aunt) died from cancer two years ago in April. She’s on the rugby team, turning 21 next weekend, and put together a team to raise money and walk for the 12-hour event.

It was an interesting trip to put it mildly. Just so you understand, you really cannot get three more different people than me and my two sisters, and then throw my mom in there and it’s just a free for all.

and I’m really, really sorry anonymous for abandoning you with mom on the trip home.

Highlights:
1) Being mistaken for a 19 year old college student
2) Fun with walkie-talkies on the way home (seriously – walkie-talkies are not just for 10 year old boys)
3) Checking out the cute frat boys with my sister (this is something complete new to me – I didn’t do this when I was in college).
4) Car dancing at the boat launch on Isle la Motte at 7:45 a.m. to Alanis and Christina.
5) Trying to learn French courtesy the Montreal radio stations
6) Learning that my mother can sleep through anything. Including 300 college students in a field house and a reggae cover band.

Quotes:
1) “Bon Jour! Como tally view? I’m at sortie 35.”
2) “Oh, look. Those baby cows have their own little tents….”
3) “Good lord! So many dead bunnies! It’s like Watership Down up here!”
4) “No wonder I’ve been smelling French fries for the past 20 miles. A biodiesel VW bus!”
5) “Have all of the VT state troopers emigrated to NY?” on mile 120 with no troopers in sight.
6) “I’m passing the town of….Ghent? Hudson? No wait… It begins with an A. No wait – new town. …. No I’m not speeding…”
7) Mom’s car: “Does anyone want to stop at the Christmas Tree Shops on the way home?” My car: “Negative, Ghostrider. The pattern is full.”

There were so many more... but these were those that stuck out the most. It was enough to make me almost miss family vacations.

Almost.