i am no good at making decisions.

and yet? i've been given a choice.

it's either this:



or this:


j is being sent to Cabo San Lucas for work (oh, woe to him... my poor husband... being sent to paradise..) and he can take me with him. however, if i go with him, it means that we cannot get the puppy we've been considering. this isn't that puppy, but it's super close.

decisions, decisions....

It turns out I married a 10-year-old (but, apparently, so did my sister)

Ever since the Pretend Husband and I got a Wii, we've used it in moderation. Sometimes we'd play a couple of nights in a row, then it would sit for a few nights. That is, until Kat's lil sis and her husband got one and kat's lil bro-in-law figured out how to go online and play against the PH.

And they haven't stopped playing since. Last weekend, they played for at least four hours straight (I lost track because I finally went to bed), taking a break only when Peyton needed a diaper change while lil bil was on baby duty.

And lil sis and I agree that it's getting a little out of hand... especially the trash talking (or actually, "trash texting.") There are a lot of "F" you's that go back and forth and the latest is that one of them texts or calls the other to tell them to "suck it." (When did I become my husband's mother because I find myself having to tell him to watch his language!)

But the best was lil bil's text message the other night after he got beat by the PH. The text talked about what he did wrong and how he'll win next time and ended with, "i'm so mad i can't sleep. i hope you fall out of the bed tonight."

Well, at least he kept it clean.

Dad, when I wrote "sex," it was code for "praying"

My dad called last night and said, "Tell the Pretend Husband I made some great soup from the turkey carcass he gave me."

I said, "Wait. Did you just call him the Pretend Husband? Do you read my blog?"

Dad said, "Yes, I read it all the time."

And then I died. The End.

Holy cow, my dad reads this blog?!? Even this post? And this? Oh no! Not this one, I hope! (I'm kind of hoping my dad doesn't know about clicking on links!)

Somehow, despite my begging my family and friends to read our blog, and pretty much plugging it every chance I get (I sent out an email telling people I was engaged, but linked to the blog if they wanted to read the whole story), I kind of figured no one had taken me up on the offer. Then, slowly, I have started getting comments that freak me out at first (how does my friend from college/neighbor/aunt know about that?!?) until they explain they have been reading but not commenting (you sneaky buggers, you!)

But my dad?!? I had no idea! I asked him, "Do you, um, feel like you know more about me than you ever wanted to know?" and he said, "Yes, and about [Kat's lil sis] too." (Ha, ha, Kat's lil sis! Now do you regret writing about your cervix?)

So, knowing that my dad reads this blog, I will now be writing about nothing but my church attendance, volunteering at soup kitchens, saving kittens from fires and that time I meant to wear black slacks, but got all the way to work before discovering-- ha ha!-- that I had put on my navy blue ones.

OK, I'm kidding. I will get over this shortly and be back to my usual raucous self. And really, SJ should be the one who is embarrassed. At least I never discussed nipples with my mother-in-law!

Oscar Night: Someone get the popcorn.

I don't usually do this kind of blog. And by usually, I mean ever.

I decided since my original Oscar night plans fell through, it doesn't mean the glamour has to be missed (was going to attend glamorous party in fantastic blue retro inspired dress, but j and I are having a rough weekend. and he's leaving for KC first thing in the a.m.). So because of this, I chose to bake and stay home and record my thoughts via text (to various friends, but notably, our blogger friends -- Poor, Pat. It must be annoying for someone who doesn't watch many movies but has much to say about people's outfits to randomly text you.) and Twitter, where I laughed out loud at our friend Andy.

I didn't watch any of the red carpet stuff until we got home. I turned in at 8 p.m. Now, I love me some Oscar fashions. Mostly, I am jealous. Mostly, I envy their perfect size 2 figures.

However. That said, I also think that if I had their budgets and figures, I could do better.

See?

I figured, no sense letting this great outfit go to waste. So I'm dressed up, old Hollywood style. It seems only right.

My initial thoughts on fashion:
Someone has stolen the sleeves off of Kate Winslett and Marissa Tomei's dresses.
Daniel Craig has to stand 10 feet away from Carrie.. I mean SJP in order to give enough room to her dress.
Jessica Biel, fire your stylist.
Amy Adams - love that necklace.
Anne Hathaway. Meh. Looks like Xanadu - the ballet.
The girl from Mamma Mia looks awesome.
The girl from High School Musical looks like someone went a little crazy with the bows.
Tilda Swinton is really beautiful. Last year, she scared me a little.
Angelina Jolie could probably wear a bag and look awesome.
Mickey Rourke scares me this year.
The girl from Slumdog Millionaire looks gorgeous.
Reese also looks like her dress changed its mind. It was going to have wide straps. And then, no. Narrow straps.


Other Oscar moments:
I was so hoping for song and dance with Hugh Jackman. He didn't disappoint.
FTW: did SJP actually introduce Matthew Broderick to an interviewer? Say what?
I forgot Roy Scheider died.
And I also forgot about Richard Widmark.
And the girl from Gone With the Wind.
And Cid Charese!
I was wondering what happened to the Heath picture, and then I figured they must have done something last year, because he died in January 2008.
"Wow. Slumdog Millionaire won again."

And granted, they're not over yet. But I'm going to guess that Slumdog wins best picture, and go to bed. I am hoping that Kate Winslett wins. Because she's awesome.

Let me know if I was wrong about Slumdog. I'm heading to bed.

Please assure me bad things only come in twos and not threes...

This morning, on my way to work, about 13 seconds after I thought, “Man, what a great day I’m having. I’m so lucky to have such a good life,” a rock was kicked up by the van in front of me and hit my windshield, causing a pretty big ding in the glass. (Yes, I’m a dork for having my own little hallelujah sessions and I can’t even get too mad about the van because it was a Red Cross van delivering blood so how evil would I be for being angry at it, right?)

Then, I got to my office, went to turn on my light… and not only blew out the light bulb and kicked off the battery backup on my computer, but I blew a fuse.

I should not be allowed anywhere near small children today.

(Dudes, just to be clear, this doesn’t even come close to qualifying as a bad day. I just thought it was funny that the two events happened within 30 minutes of each other. And it’s made me be a little more cautious today. But I forgot to mention that when I went to find a replacement light bulb in the office storage closet, I instead found a box of chocolates that looked as thought it had been there since Valentine’s Day… 2005. But it still had a few pieces left, so score!)