I Kicked Obama's Butt

Obama worked out at my gym today while I was teaching Spin and I didn't even know it. How cool would it have been to have had him in my class? I would have kicked his butt. And then I could have had bumper stickers made proclaiming that very thing.

The Blurbiest

Ok, so what LDS girl with style hasn't heard of Design Mom? If you haven't, that doesn't mean you're lacking style, it just means your lacking some seriously good eye candy and in my case, things to add to your list of Things To Buy When Residency Is Over. My list goes something like this:

1. A king-sized bed so I don't get my eyes poked out nightly by Go's Ichabod Crane elbows

2. Liposuction on my cankles. Technically, I won't have to pay for this procedure. Hey, these are the perks to being a plastic surgeon's wife. And don't take the word "perks" too literally there, Buck-o.

3. Pretty things that also have function. This is where Design Mom comes in.

Gabrielle, the Mama of Design Mom, has random giveaways and HELLO, I WON A BLURB BOOK! I'm ecstatic. Or more appropriately, I'm E-cstatic.

May's Ready for May

May's already pretty eager for CA. Too bad she has to wait an entire month. She's been wearing these glasses around the house and saying "I want to go to Grandma's house tomorrow," which sounds like "I wa go Gamma's hows ah-mar-o."


May's blowing you a kiss.

I Should Be In Bed, But I'm Not, So Wah.

Just some 2 in the morning ranting, that's all.

I promise this is the last post I will make about my hair:

WHY, OH, WHY, FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE, CAN'T I JUST GO GET MY HAIR DONE AND BE SMILING WHEN I WALK OUT OF THE SALON DOORS?

I went to a different salon than I normally go to; it was cheaper but seemed just as good. Well, I should have known because I whole-heartedly believe that you get what you pay for but Miss Cheapy Pants, the extra-nasally voice inside my head, the one that makes me grocery shop at Wal-Mart, said "You just never know. You could hit the jackpot with this place. Imagine getting your hair done for almost half the price! You wouldn't have to wait so long in between getting your hair done! You wouldn't have trailer-trash roots for 9 months out of the year! Imagine it!" Stupid Miss Cheapy Pants. I'm putting her in time-out.

The Only Pro:
*Like the mod bangs--they were what I wanted.

A Bunch of Cons:
*I wanted a cleaner edge on the rest of my hair but I'm still growing out some layers so that wasn't really her fault. Blast those stinking layers.
*THE COLOR. Right now I have streaks of bright orange; they didn't show up in the photo.
*I still have roots. Was she afraid of burning my scalp? I mean, she left like 1.5 inches of roots. And dark ones. It's the end of the winter and I'm just not blonde anymore; it was like the moment I stepped foot in the state of Utah 10 years ago, my hair upped and changed it's color to poop brown. How appropriate. Anyway, if she thinks she was being tricky and leaving roots for me so I could come back to her in a month, she is seriously overestimating the girth of my pocket book and she's is sadly, sadly mistaken. I need to introduce her to Miss Cheapy Pants.

So, I'm hoping some Southern California sunshine will do the trick come May, lighten the bright orange color to light orange and lighten the roots she left. Until then, I'll be rocking the orange streaks and the dark roots, because: you know, "never let 'em see you sweat" and all that. I'm kind of too late about the sweating thing, though. Dang.

That's all. Good night. Kiss, kiss.

AFTER

BEFORE

Mansfield Park

My dear friends,

I wish to inform you that I watched a movie yesterday that I found most agreeable. It's name is Mansfield Park, a movie based on a Jane Austin novel. Don't be vexed that I just spelled her name wrong; it was merely from habit, as I have always done when penning her name, as a rebellion of sorts.

You see, when one has lived within the confines of a very small apartment with 5 other girls, one finds herself exposed to all things feminine, one of these things being Jane Austin, oh fine, Jane Austen: not only her books but movies based from them, especially a certain box set of the BBC's Pride and Predujice. It was I who would flee the television set to retreat to my room to blast Beastie Boys in hopes to drown out the uppity chitter-chatter coming from the living room, as the rest of the girls would snuggle together on the couch and swoon at the likes of Mr. Darcy. I do recall one Sunday afternoon when I joined them, but I believe that it was only to get my hair brushed.

I wouldn't say that I thought Ms. Austen a ninny, but I would venture to say I found her work most dull and totally unrelatable, as I never had the pleasure of having any sisters, nor had I ever had the desire to wear a corset or wish to dwell upon prospective suitors' social class.

But yesterday as I watched Mansfield Park, I was most delighted. I wish to inform you of this, especially my former room mates, in hopes that I shall be able to come back into your good graces, as I had become a social outcast for constantly mocking your love of all things Austen and threatening to flush those blasted VHS tapes down the loo.

I do not think it probable that I shall run out and buy Emma or start devouring Jane's novels by the dozen, but I surely will not roll my eyes when one proclaims to love Ms. Austen with the fiercest part of her heart.

Yours affectionately,
Ann

Something Sort of Like Onomatopoeia

1. Roo-hoo-ha-ha-herrrmmm-mmm-mwah-ha-ha-hhrrrr
This is the sound of unadulterated blubbering. Think John Travolta on Opera. We found some great air fare for Go's week off in May, so it's Irvine here we come--totally unexpected and my paler than pale skin is so overwhelmed to have this oppurtunity to get some of it's color back, this is the sound it would make if it could sob with gratitude.

2. Hhhhhrrrrrmmmm
Hear that? It's the sound of indecision. I'm getting my head worked on Friday. Not by a shrink like it probably should but by a stylist. Haven't decided what I should do yet but I'm feeling gutsy, which never really works out for me like the way I hope. It's always like hey, why am I not looking like Posh Spice? I showed you a picture and everything but I still have a ghetto booty and mild case of adult acne. I want my money back.



3. Mmmmmeeeeerrp
This is the sound of something shrinking, which is my desire to get back on my 5K training schedule after being sick the past 2 weeks.



4. Vooooooosh
Ruby is registering for kindergarten this week and this is the sound of that fact blowing my mind.





5. Gwwwwaaaah
This sound is dedicated to my lagging of sketches but if you listen closely, it has an undertone of resigned determination to finish what I vowed to start.

Women of Fire

As of this afternoon, Ruby's new list of things she wants to be when she grows up is as follows:
1. Doctor
2. Cheerleader
3. Cow girl
4. "Fire girl"

When I asked May if she wanted to be a Fire Girl too, she said "No. A Fire Princess." From the impression I get, May's list would look something like this:

1. Fire Princess
2. Professional Pancake Eater - She eats more pancakes than I do...and that's a lot of pancakes
3. Lyrcial Dancer - If you've watched the video, I don't need to explain this one
4. Potty Training Consultant -She basically potty trained herself in about 2 days awhile ago
5. Wal-Mart greeter - She loves to say hi to people. Plus, I figure she'll go through a rebellious period at some point in her life. What better way to make Mom's hair stand on end?

We took a visit with several other Joyschool groups to the Hershey Fire Station today. Ruby was pretty excited:

...and scared.

But when it comes to fire, that's probably a good thing.

Another Beautiful Blog Birth

Remember how you felt during your dating years, when you meet a guy and it's still new and everything's going great? You like him, he likes you, you both know it and everything is like good, good, good vibrations? But then it comes time for him to meet your friends and you're like "Oh crap" because all of your friends are way nicer, way smarter and way prettier than you are? You feel this deep frenzied panic and find yourself drenched in a sweet sweat of desperation. So you introduce him to your gal pals and they're like, shaking hands and small talking or whatever and suddenly you find yourself scrambling for some lipstick to stick in your cleavage so you can pull a Molly Ringwald a la Breakfast Club, but you can't find any because you don't wear lipstick and oh yah, you don't have cleavage either, so you blurt out something ridiculous like "Hey! Who wants to see me tie a cherry stem with my mouth?" And he's like "What?" and your friends are all "Oh brother, not this again" and you decide to just start digging a hole right where you stand so you can jump inside it and never come out? Remember that feeling? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

So yah, my Aunt Mary started a blog. She's 10 times funnier than I am. So go ahead. Read her freaking blog.
I'll just be over here doing some deep lunging in my unitard.

For the Grandmother

All the pictures you'd ever want to see of them in their orchid-color Easter dresses:





...and an Easter necklace

Eggcellent, Just Eggcellent.

My inexplicable mood was explained to me this morning. I woke up and it was totally snowing. Because, really folks, what's Easter without snow? Grrrrr.

On a happier note, we dyed Easter eggs and it was fun.

I Found a Cure

No, not for Diabetes. For my mood. But that would have really improved my mood too. Almost as much as this:

Right now, as I type this, I am watching an old episode of My So-Called Life online at abc.com. Fo reals, yo! I can watch AND dust the bookshelves at the same time. But not vacuum. Not yet.

Title Shmitle

1. I don't like having to say (or type) "Just kidding." I feel like people should just automatically know when I'm kidding or when I'm not, which I know is unfair but come on, it doesn't take too long to figure out that I usually am.

2. Does anyone really have "Jenkins" for a last name? I've only ever hear it on old movies and SNL skits--characters like cops, reporters, soldiers, etc. Seriously, do you know anyone who's last name is Jenkins? I'd love to know if you do, because I've decided it's a last name Hollywood made up a long time ago.

3. Thank you, thank you, thank you Katie for letting me vent. I don't know what's up with me today but I probably said a lot of things I shouldn't have. Though you seemed to enjoy hearing me rip certain people/places/things to shreds, I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to take three pieces of bread instead of two at church on Sunday. (Please see #1)

4. My house is messy and so far I haven't talked myself into getting it clean today. I have company coming this weekend but it's like my vacuum is covered with a layer of acid and I'll burn my palms off if I touch it.

5. Remember this post? I feel like that again today. Don't mess with me, I'll set your hair on fire.

To All the Boys I've Loved Before

In my defense of this being a totally inappropriate post, it's the first day of spring. Love is in the air.

This is kind of in chronological order, sort of. Some of these guys have dropped off my Innocent Crush Radar, others are still going strong, well...as strong an Innocent Crush Held By a Happily Married Woman can be.