tr.v. ne·glect·ed, ne·glect·ing, ne·glects
[Latin neglegere, neglēct- : neg-, not; see ne in Indo-European roots + legere, to choose, pick up; see leg- in Indo-European roots.] ne·glect'er n. In other words...the state of this blog. |
Showing posts with label Random Stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Random Stories. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Neglected
ne·glect
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
The First Night in Reno, or The Night I Was Mistaken for a Hooker
Sometimes you need to get out of Utah, if for no other reason to remind yourself how quirky it is and that the rest of the world isn't so conservative. With that in mind, we spent last weekend in Reno for the Western Athletic Conference Basketball Championship. We almost didn't make it! You see, Dr. HokieKev spent the first part of Furlough Break in New Jersey working his undercover job. His flight back was supposed to get into Salt Lake at 10:30, our plane to Reno left at 11:10- plenty of time! Not so fast my friend, he was delayed and ended up sprinting across the airport to make the flight that I was prepared to cry, lie, and wager into staying at the gate until he arrived. None of this would have been a problem had the WAC kept the schedule as originally planed which gave Utah State the night game. Instead, they changed it to give the home team, Nevada-Reno, the advantage. Since when there are home teams in championships, I do not know- but that is another story for another time.
So anyway, we made the plane and headed to Reno. Our seat partners were fun. Dr. HokieKev sat with the Aggie pointgaurd's family and I sat with a woman who lives down the street from Sarah Palin in Wasilla, AK. We chatted. Dr. HokieKev made friends. We finally landed in Reno. The first game was fairly uneventful. Upon its conclusion, we headed back to the hotel to change for dinner. After a quick tripadvisor search, Dr. HokieKev settled on The SteakHouse at Harrah's! which was across the street from our hotel. We got all dressed up and made our way to the hidden gem (seriously, located UNDER the casino- accessible only by slightly hidden stairs- booths only facing out. Total mob front from the 70s) with EXCELLENT food! We ate dinner, desert, blah blah blah boring boring boring and then proceeded to leave. As we were crossing the street back to our hotel, Random Dude approached Dr. HokieKev and clearly said "Dude, are you in a position to help me find a hooker?" and clearly looked directly at me. WTF!
Now I am not easily offended- in fact, it takes an awful lot to offend me. But this- um, yeah- was a little bit offensive. I mean, do I really look like a hooker? And before you all comment on my obvious hookerish attributes, I would like to add that I was not dressed in a manner that would warrant the assumption. I didn't have the dress from Halloween on (I save that for Vegas)- I didn't even have anything that lowcute on- and even if I had, so what...no reasonable person has ever jumped from cleavage to hooker. In fact, both Dr. HokieKev and I looked like we had stepped out of a J. Crew catalog (aside from the fact that nothing we were wearing was actually from J. Crew). I guess this particular weirdo was into preppy hookers with professorial pimps!
So anyway, we made the plane and headed to Reno. Our seat partners were fun. Dr. HokieKev sat with the Aggie pointgaurd's family and I sat with a woman who lives down the street from Sarah Palin in Wasilla, AK. We chatted. Dr. HokieKev made friends. We finally landed in Reno. The first game was fairly uneventful. Upon its conclusion, we headed back to the hotel to change for dinner. After a quick tripadvisor search, Dr. HokieKev settled on The SteakHouse at Harrah's! which was across the street from our hotel. We got all dressed up and made our way to the hidden gem (seriously, located UNDER the casino- accessible only by slightly hidden stairs- booths only facing out. Total mob front from the 70s) with EXCELLENT food! We ate dinner, desert, blah blah blah boring boring boring and then proceeded to leave. As we were crossing the street back to our hotel, Random Dude approached Dr. HokieKev and clearly said "Dude, are you in a position to help me find a hooker?" and clearly looked directly at me. WTF!
Now I am not easily offended- in fact, it takes an awful lot to offend me. But this- um, yeah- was a little bit offensive. I mean, do I really look like a hooker? And before you all comment on my obvious hookerish attributes, I would like to add that I was not dressed in a manner that would warrant the assumption. I didn't have the dress from Halloween on (I save that for Vegas)- I didn't even have anything that lowcute on- and even if I had, so what...no reasonable person has ever jumped from cleavage to hooker. In fact, both Dr. HokieKev and I looked like we had stepped out of a J. Crew catalog (aside from the fact that nothing we were wearing was actually from J. Crew). I guess this particular weirdo was into preppy hookers with professorial pimps!
Sunday, March 1, 2009
The Funniest Thing I Heard Today
Today was Sunday. I tend to sleep in on Sundays even now that I am, as my friend Mona says, A real live grownup. I usually don't sleep past ten but today I didn't feel the need to roll out of bed until noon- I think it is my brain retaliating for making it get up so early to go snowboarding the last few weekends. I also have a penchant for waking up, looking at the clock, and rolling over for "10 more minutes." During these "10 minutes" I usually have really whacked out dreams- yesterday, I was eating cake on the top a a giant, snow covered mountain with Jenn from work while discussing the secret underground in Park City. Today, I was arguing with a manager of a train terminal in Washington, DC that I really needed a bed if he was going to stop running trains to South Carolina.
So anyway, I wake up thismorning afternoon for the third or forth time and decide that maybe I should actually get out of bed and try to do something productive since it was too warm to go snowboarding. Bleery eyed, I stumble out into the living room to find Dr. HokieKev engrossed in something scholarly a poker game on his computer. This was our conversation:
Me: Do you want breakfast?
Dr. HokieKev: I was just thinking about making pancakes.
Me: What? You were going to do what...
Dr. HokieKev: Well, I was thinking I would make some pancakes.
Me: You... were going to make pancakes? When have you ever made pancakes? Or breakfast, for that matter? Do you even know how to make pancakes?
Dr. HokieKev: Well, I was thinking about it.
Me: ::laughing:: So, I take it you want pancakes?
Dr. HokieKev: With chocolate chips...
Me: How old are you?
Dr. HokieKev: ::laughing:: Six
I found the whole conversation amusing. Dr. HokieKev can grill- in fact, he does it often. He can also make tacos- although, he does that WAY less frequently. I think I have also seen him make a grilled cheese or two and heat up various frozen, boxed foods. However,I have never seen him even attempt to cook breakfast. Well, maybe that isn't true. I have seen him try- once- to make eggs. Here is how that went:
::Flashback to Massachusetts in or around 2004::
Dr. HokieKev: I am going to go make some eggs.
Me: Do you know how to make eggs?
Dr. HokieKev: Yeah, I mean how hard could it be.
Me: Okay.
Dr. HokieKev: What pan do I use?
Me: The small one.
Dr. HokieKev: Do I melt the butter or scramble it in with the eggs?
Me: Melt it first.
Dr. HokieKev: Where is that pan?
Me: Ugh, let me just do it.
See, breakfast and Dr. HokieKev really don't go together. Although, he did admit that he did this on purpose because he did not want to make the eggs. This story ended with me cooking up some chocolate chip pancakes on the skillet I once hated but have now decided is much more efficient than a pan when making breakfast foods. Dr. HokieKev got down the skillet. He also started dinner tonight- Lasagna, from a box.
So anyway, I wake up this
Me: Do you want breakfast?
Dr. HokieKev: I was just thinking about making pancakes.
Me: What? You were going to do what...
Dr. HokieKev: Well, I was thinking I would make some pancakes.
Me: You... were going to make pancakes? When have you ever made pancakes? Or breakfast, for that matter? Do you even know how to make pancakes?
Dr. HokieKev: Well, I was thinking about it.
Me: ::laughing:: So, I take it you want pancakes?
Dr. HokieKev: With chocolate chips...
Me: How old are you?
Dr. HokieKev: ::laughing:: Six
I found the whole conversation amusing. Dr. HokieKev can grill- in fact, he does it often. He can also make tacos- although, he does that WAY less frequently. I think I have also seen him make a grilled cheese or two and heat up various frozen, boxed foods. However,I have never seen him even attempt to cook breakfast. Well, maybe that isn't true. I have seen him try- once- to make eggs. Here is how that went:
::Flashback to Massachusetts in or around 2004::
Dr. HokieKev: I am going to go make some eggs.
Me: Do you know how to make eggs?
Dr. HokieKev: Yeah, I mean how hard could it be.
Me: Okay.
Dr. HokieKev: What pan do I use?
Me: The small one.
Dr. HokieKev: Do I melt the butter or scramble it in with the eggs?
Me: Melt it first.
Dr. HokieKev: Where is that pan?
Me: Ugh, let me just do it.
See, breakfast and Dr. HokieKev really don't go together. Although, he did admit that he did this on purpose because he did not want to make the eggs. This story ended with me cooking up some chocolate chip pancakes on the skillet I once hated but have now decided is much more efficient than a pan when making breakfast foods. Dr. HokieKev got down the skillet. He also started dinner tonight- Lasagna, from a box.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Because all the Cool Kids are Doing it
Since three people have "tagged" me on Facebook, I caved and decided to do this little ditty. So without further ado:
25 Random Things About Me
1. I can't stand turtlenecks. I blame this on my mother who used to dress me in Osh Kosh B'Gosh turtlenecks everyday when I was little. Crew necks are semi tolerable if they do not come up to high. V Necks are highly preferable.
2. Sometimes when I hit snooze on the alarm and fall back asleep between buzzes, I dream that I am getting up, showering, and getting dressed. I am usually awoken by Dr. HokieKev dragging me out of bed as I protest that I am, in fact, dressed and ready to go.
3. Dazed and Confused is my favorite movie ever- since the 8th grade. The first time I watched it was with my mom and my middle school best friend. I have never smoked marijuana in my whole life. I also like to watch cheesy movies on Disney and ABC Family- mostly because they require no thought.
4. I often tease Dr. HokieKev for not being a "real doctor" but I am really proud of him for being a "fake doctor."
5. I hold grudges against people I don't know. I am pretty quick to forgive those I do know. I realize that said grudges are not productive in anyway.
6. I desperately want my house to look like a page from a magazine. We have too much clutter to make this happen but I am working on it.
7. I still have two boxes of my childhood stuffed animals in the closet. It took me 27 years to get rid of the other 6 boxes. I think there are two more at my parents' house.
8. I want to write a textbook on American history or maybe the teaching of American history. I want it to be practical and not boring. I have no idea how to go about starting this process.
9. I think I am a pretty intelligent individual. I hate it when people underestimate me because I am a girl with blond hair and big boobs. I like to prove these people wrong.
10. I am in a sorority. Parts of me are very "sorority girl" however, most parts are not.
11. I firmly believe every individual should have to take a class on the proper placement of the comma. I tend to be somewhat of a grammar nazi. Along these lines, I proofread blogs many times over and sometimes go back and edit them days after they have been posted. It distresses me that many people do not care how they come across in formal (or informal) writing.
12. Cooked vegetables disgust me. Cooked celery is the worst. The only cooked vegetables I will eat are potatoes, corn, and spinach.
13. I really want a pair of knee high, black, hooker boots. My calf muscles are too big to pull off this look. They always have been.
14. I hate it when people are intolerant of others. I am a big believer in being able to do what you want with your life as long as you are not harming others. And by harming others, I don't mean threatening their traditions or questioning their beliefs. Closemindedness annoys me.
15. I rarely leave the house without make-up. I rarely put make-up on when I have nowhere to go. I usually don't take the time to do my hair. It takes too long and ends up flat anyway.
16. I only read the first three chapters of The Great Gatsby and The Scarlett Letter and Wuthering Heights. There are also MANY other books that I never read, yet successfully completed book reports for. Sometimes, I regret this and vow to go back and read these books. Then I realize that I really don't like American Lit, or British Lit for that matter. I did read The Stranger and I liked it. I also like Edgar Allen Poe and Louis Carroll.
17. In a former life, I was an American History teacher. I do not watch the History Channel. I also don't like biographies of most traditionally historic figures. In fact, I don't usually enjoy reading books about history. Unless they are interesting or slightly subversive.
18. Sometimes, I like to pretend I am Martha Stewart, or the Ace of Cakes, or the Iron Chef. Sometimes, it works. Sometimes, it is an EPIC FAIL! I try to take pictures either way.
19. I am very good at halfway completing projects around the house. I still need to hang pictures that have recently been framed. And paint over holes the previous owners left. And organize several rooms. And post pictures going back to November. I also need to finish my college scrapbook- and my high school scrapbook for that matter.
20. I registered for a drill when Dr. HokieKev and I got married. I love my drill. I can also fix a toilet.
21. I am not a morning person. In my former life as a teacher, school started at 7:40 in the am. I was pretty good at faking it- most days. Delay days were my favorite as I did not have to resemble awake until 10:30.
22. I like learning about other cultures and religions. This does not make me culturally diverse or religious. I am ok with that.
23. I took four years of French in high school. I can't write it. I can't speak it. I can understand it to a point. I think I could make my way around- if the people giving directions spoke slowly or wrote it down. The only sentence I can say in Spanish is "Where is the library?" My mother taught me that. I really want to learn to speak Italian.
24. I am addicted to reading blogs. If you have a blog and I know about it, I am most likely reading it. I have a few blogs bookmarked- they are written by people I don't know. Most have to do with decorating.
25. I was in Show Choir in High School. I can sing well. I do not sing in public. I can also dance. I am told my dancing abilities surprise people.
I am also supposed to tag 25 more people to do this. I don't think 25 people read this. I tagged people on Facebook.
25 Random Things About Me
1. I can't stand turtlenecks. I blame this on my mother who used to dress me in Osh Kosh B'Gosh turtlenecks everyday when I was little. Crew necks are semi tolerable if they do not come up to high. V Necks are highly preferable.
2. Sometimes when I hit snooze on the alarm and fall back asleep between buzzes, I dream that I am getting up, showering, and getting dressed. I am usually awoken by Dr. HokieKev dragging me out of bed as I protest that I am, in fact, dressed and ready to go.
3. Dazed and Confused is my favorite movie ever- since the 8th grade. The first time I watched it was with my mom and my middle school best friend. I have never smoked marijuana in my whole life. I also like to watch cheesy movies on Disney and ABC Family- mostly because they require no thought.
4. I often tease Dr. HokieKev for not being a "real doctor" but I am really proud of him for being a "fake doctor."
5. I hold grudges against people I don't know. I am pretty quick to forgive those I do know. I realize that said grudges are not productive in anyway.
6. I desperately want my house to look like a page from a magazine. We have too much clutter to make this happen but I am working on it.
7. I still have two boxes of my childhood stuffed animals in the closet. It took me 27 years to get rid of the other 6 boxes. I think there are two more at my parents' house.
8. I want to write a textbook on American history or maybe the teaching of American history. I want it to be practical and not boring. I have no idea how to go about starting this process.
9. I think I am a pretty intelligent individual. I hate it when people underestimate me because I am a girl with blond hair and big boobs. I like to prove these people wrong.
10. I am in a sorority. Parts of me are very "sorority girl" however, most parts are not.
11. I firmly believe every individual should have to take a class on the proper placement of the comma. I tend to be somewhat of a grammar nazi. Along these lines, I proofread blogs many times over and sometimes go back and edit them days after they have been posted. It distresses me that many people do not care how they come across in formal (or informal) writing.
12. Cooked vegetables disgust me. Cooked celery is the worst. The only cooked vegetables I will eat are potatoes, corn, and spinach.
13. I really want a pair of knee high, black, hooker boots. My calf muscles are too big to pull off this look. They always have been.
14. I hate it when people are intolerant of others. I am a big believer in being able to do what you want with your life as long as you are not harming others. And by harming others, I don't mean threatening their traditions or questioning their beliefs. Closemindedness annoys me.
15. I rarely leave the house without make-up. I rarely put make-up on when I have nowhere to go. I usually don't take the time to do my hair. It takes too long and ends up flat anyway.
16. I only read the first three chapters of The Great Gatsby and The Scarlett Letter and Wuthering Heights. There are also MANY other books that I never read, yet successfully completed book reports for. Sometimes, I regret this and vow to go back and read these books. Then I realize that I really don't like American Lit, or British Lit for that matter. I did read The Stranger and I liked it. I also like Edgar Allen Poe and Louis Carroll.
17. In a former life, I was an American History teacher. I do not watch the History Channel. I also don't like biographies of most traditionally historic figures. In fact, I don't usually enjoy reading books about history. Unless they are interesting or slightly subversive.
18. Sometimes, I like to pretend I am Martha Stewart, or the Ace of Cakes, or the Iron Chef. Sometimes, it works. Sometimes, it is an EPIC FAIL! I try to take pictures either way.
19. I am very good at halfway completing projects around the house. I still need to hang pictures that have recently been framed. And paint over holes the previous owners left. And organize several rooms. And post pictures going back to November. I also need to finish my college scrapbook- and my high school scrapbook for that matter.
20. I registered for a drill when Dr. HokieKev and I got married. I love my drill. I can also fix a toilet.
21. I am not a morning person. In my former life as a teacher, school started at 7:40 in the am. I was pretty good at faking it- most days. Delay days were my favorite as I did not have to resemble awake until 10:30.
22. I like learning about other cultures and religions. This does not make me culturally diverse or religious. I am ok with that.
23. I took four years of French in high school. I can't write it. I can't speak it. I can understand it to a point. I think I could make my way around- if the people giving directions spoke slowly or wrote it down. The only sentence I can say in Spanish is "Where is the library?" My mother taught me that. I really want to learn to speak Italian.
24. I am addicted to reading blogs. If you have a blog and I know about it, I am most likely reading it. I have a few blogs bookmarked- they are written by people I don't know. Most have to do with decorating.
25. I was in Show Choir in High School. I can sing well. I do not sing in public. I can also dance. I am told my dancing abilities surprise people.
I am also supposed to tag 25 more people to do this. I don't think 25 people read this. I tagged people on Facebook.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
If This is What it Takes...
I have been trying to sign up for and pay for one class for the last week and a half. ONE CLASS! In the process, I have had to visit the registrar three times, admissions once, and human resources once. I finally got it taken care of today- I think. This letter/rant is dedicated to the jerkface at the registrar's office who is apparently too cool to do his job.
Dear Registrar Jerkface,
You are lucky you did not get a stiletto up your nose today. Yes, I am a girl. Yes, I could kick your ass from here to next Tuesday. Is it really that hard to process my request the first time I come to visit you? I mean, maybe I stuttered but really, how hard is it to hear "my husband is a full time, contracted, tenure track professor. Do you need his ID number?" Really that is all the information you should have needed to process my tuition waiver. Please do not tell me that we are not married. I beg to differ. If we are not married, whose socks have I been picking up off the floor for the last four and a half years?
Also, I know how to tell time. I have known this since I was what...six? Please do not tell me that I have notwasted my life away waited in line for over 30 minutes because, yes, between last week and today I have stood in your stupid line for almost 45 minutes to get the same ONE thing taken care of. I guess you don't think I have better things to do. Well, let us get this straight- I do. The papers will not grade themselves, the student teachers will not observe themselves, the book will not read itself, the grocery shopping will not do itself, and well, you get the picture.
There was also no need to smirk and talk to me like I was three. If you want to judge me for signing up for graduate classes, go right ahead. I am sorry you are living in 1954 where women are expected to stay home with the kiddos while Daddy goes off to work. What a lovely picture, you can go watch it on TV Land as I hear they are still airing The Dick Van Dyke Show. I, for one, don't have any kiddos running around. And that is beside the point anyway. I am a fairly intelligent individual and am pretty confident that I could handle at least one class, work, and kiddos (and I could probably also manage to wrangle said kiddos up in the Wal-Mart parking lot so as they do not get run over). Maybe that is because my husband, the aforementioned tenure track professor, is capable of fixing said future kiddos dinner (even if it is just grilled cheese, or macaroni and cheese, or crackers and cheese, or some other cheese related meal) and entertaining them for a couple hours once a week. But then again, you would probably judge him too. Your snarky tone did nothing but tick me off. It did not discourage me from signing up for a class. I am also fairly confident that I could out-snark you anyday. You would leave in tears, probably pulling a stiletto out of your nose.
I hope you enjoy your work study job sitting in the window at the registrar's office. And I also hope that my little form declaring that I am married to my husband- the man with the SAME last name living at the SAME address as I- gave you a paper cut.
Sincerely,
The girl that wears stilettos in the snow
P.S. It is amazing that, the second I got to speak with her, the real live grownup at the next window was able to take care of this little problem in a fairly expedited way.
Dear Registrar Jerkface,
You are lucky you did not get a stiletto up your nose today. Yes, I am a girl. Yes, I could kick your ass from here to next Tuesday. Is it really that hard to process my request the first time I come to visit you? I mean, maybe I stuttered but really, how hard is it to hear "my husband is a full time, contracted, tenure track professor. Do you need his ID number?" Really that is all the information you should have needed to process my tuition waiver. Please do not tell me that we are not married. I beg to differ. If we are not married, whose socks have I been picking up off the floor for the last four and a half years?
Also, I know how to tell time. I have known this since I was what...six? Please do not tell me that I have not
There was also no need to smirk and talk to me like I was three. If you want to judge me for signing up for graduate classes, go right ahead. I am sorry you are living in 1954 where women are expected to stay home with the kiddos while Daddy goes off to work. What a lovely picture, you can go watch it on TV Land as I hear they are still airing The Dick Van Dyke Show. I, for one, don't have any kiddos running around. And that is beside the point anyway. I am a fairly intelligent individual and am pretty confident that I could handle at least one class, work, and kiddos (and I could probably also manage to wrangle said kiddos up in the Wal-Mart parking lot so as they do not get run over). Maybe that is because my husband, the aforementioned tenure track professor, is capable of fixing said future kiddos dinner (even if it is just grilled cheese, or macaroni and cheese, or crackers and cheese, or some other cheese related meal) and entertaining them for a couple hours once a week. But then again, you would probably judge him too. Your snarky tone did nothing but tick me off. It did not discourage me from signing up for a class. I am also fairly confident that I could out-snark you anyday. You would leave in tears, probably pulling a stiletto out of your nose.
I hope you enjoy your work study job sitting in the window at the registrar's office. And I also hope that my little form declaring that I am married to my husband- the man with the SAME last name living at the SAME address as I- gave you a paper cut.
Sincerely,
The girl that wears stilettos in the snow
P.S. It is amazing that, the second I got to speak with her, the real live grownup at the next window was able to take care of this little problem in a fairly expedited way.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Life Lesson #3974- The Peanut Butter Will Not Kill You
I like Peter Pan peanut butter- it is pretty much the only peanut butter that I like. Skippy is gross and JIF will not do. But once again, my peanut butter has been yanked from the shelves due to a supposed poisoning. Some of us remember this unfortunate incident:
___________________________________________________________________
October 7, 2007
I really miss Peter Pan peanut butter :-( For those of you that do not remember, it was recalled in February after an unfortunate incident with a leaky sprinkler and an outbreak of salmonella. Shortly thereafter, they pulled the creamy goodness that was Peter Pan peanut butter from grocery store shelves all over the country. I, like many others, rushed to my pantry to determine whether or not I had any potentially deadly peanut butter and, much to my dismay, discovered that I did. Well, the entire process to claim my three dollar refund seemed way too time consuming at the time and, since I was only losing out on about three bucks, I decided I would just throw it away.....eventually. Well, eventually never came. And then one day.......the rice cakes came calling.....”top me with peanut buttery goodness.” So, now I had a decision to make- eat the diseased peanut butter and risk a horrible stomach ache from salmonella or let my butter popcorn rice cakes go naked. I guess I could have gone to the store and bought some new, non diseased peanut butter but that would mean potentially getting dressed and venturing into the night (this could have been an afternoon episode but it was months ago and I do not remember). Salmonella/Instant Gratification....hmmmm......Instant Gratification!!! So, I ate the peanut butter....in fact, I ate two whole jars of the peanut butter! (Not at the same time, but eventually) I half expected to be making a midnight run to the emergency room to have my stomach pumped, but that didn't happen. In fact, I was fine but little did I know that would be the last Peter Pan peanut butter I would eat, possibly forever :-( For the last seven months I have had to live with second rate peanut butter on my rice cakes. All I have to say is....choosy moms should never choose JIF. It is HORRIBLE!!! I would rather take my chances with salmonella! So, I did the only thing I could think of, I wikipediaed Peter Pan....because we all know that if it is on wikipedia then it MUST be true....and was very happy to see it would be returning in August to a grocery store near me. Well....its October and still no sign of the stuff.
Dear whoever makes Peter Pan peanut butter,
Please give me back my peanut butter with the androgynous little sprite on the front. I miss it and Skippy and JIF are just not the same. I promise I will not sue you if I get salmonella.
Thanks!
Now before anyone gets their panties in a bunch, I would never feed diseased peanut butter to my children. Had I had any, I would have bought them fresh, new, choosy moms peanut butter free of salmonella, e. coli, mad cow, smallpox, scurvy, cholera, and dysentery. But I was pretty confident my immune system could handle it.
___________________________________________________________________
My distress ended when my friend Mona overnighted me some delicious Peter Pan peanut butter thus preventing me from having to stomach the nonsense that is JIF. And then we moved to Utah and apparently they hadn't yet gotten the memo that peanut butter was off the FDA's "Foods That Will Kill You" list and I once again had trouble finding my brand. After about a month of living here, I finally found some at Target of all places. Eventually, it filtered back to the grocery stores and my rice cakes had a cromulent (Wikipedia=true, remember?) companion, until now- damn salmonella. I guess I will have to make another trip to the closest Target- 30 minutes away- and hope they have not yet gotten the memo that Reduced Fat Creamy Peter Pan Peanut Butter is once again deadly!
___________________________________________________________________
October 7, 2007
I really miss Peter Pan peanut butter :-( For those of you that do not remember, it was recalled in February after an unfortunate incident with a leaky sprinkler and an outbreak of salmonella. Shortly thereafter, they pulled the creamy goodness that was Peter Pan peanut butter from grocery store shelves all over the country. I, like many others, rushed to my pantry to determine whether or not I had any potentially deadly peanut butter and, much to my dismay, discovered that I did. Well, the entire process to claim my three dollar refund seemed way too time consuming at the time and, since I was only losing out on about three bucks, I decided I would just throw it away.....eventually. Well, eventually never came. And then one day.......the rice cakes came calling.....”top me with peanut buttery goodness.” So, now I had a decision to make- eat the diseased peanut butter and risk a horrible stomach ache from salmonella or let my butter popcorn rice cakes go naked. I guess I could have gone to the store and bought some new, non diseased peanut butter but that would mean potentially getting dressed and venturing into the night (this could have been an afternoon episode but it was months ago and I do not remember). Salmonella/Instant Gratification....hmmmm......Instant Gratification!!! So, I ate the peanut butter....in fact, I ate two whole jars of the peanut butter! (Not at the same time, but eventually) I half expected to be making a midnight run to the emergency room to have my stomach pumped, but that didn't happen. In fact, I was fine but little did I know that would be the last Peter Pan peanut butter I would eat, possibly forever :-( For the last seven months I have had to live with second rate peanut butter on my rice cakes. All I have to say is....choosy moms should never choose JIF. It is HORRIBLE!!! I would rather take my chances with salmonella! So, I did the only thing I could think of, I wikipediaed Peter Pan....because we all know that if it is on wikipedia then it MUST be true....and was very happy to see it would be returning in August to a grocery store near me. Well....its October and still no sign of the stuff.
Dear whoever makes Peter Pan peanut butter,
Please give me back my peanut butter with the androgynous little sprite on the front. I miss it and Skippy and JIF are just not the same. I promise I will not sue you if I get salmonella.
Thanks!
Now before anyone gets their panties in a bunch, I would never feed diseased peanut butter to my children. Had I had any, I would have bought them fresh, new, choosy moms peanut butter free of salmonella, e. coli, mad cow, smallpox, scurvy, cholera, and dysentery. But I was pretty confident my immune system could handle it.
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My distress ended when my friend Mona overnighted me some delicious Peter Pan peanut butter thus preventing me from having to stomach the nonsense that is JIF. And then we moved to Utah and apparently they hadn't yet gotten the memo that peanut butter was off the FDA's "Foods That Will Kill You" list and I once again had trouble finding my brand. After about a month of living here, I finally found some at Target of all places. Eventually, it filtered back to the grocery stores and my rice cakes had a cromulent (Wikipedia=true, remember?) companion, until now- damn salmonella. I guess I will have to make another trip to the closest Target- 30 minutes away- and hope they have not yet gotten the memo that Reduced Fat Creamy Peter Pan Peanut Butter is once again deadly!
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Revenge of Ice Butt
Thursday night, the ski mountain that is closest to us had a special night for USU Employees to raise money for some scholarships. Dr. HokieKev was out of town so I headed up to the mountain with my friend Jennifer and her husband, Tristan. Lessons were only $5 so I saw this as a good time to work on my less than mad snowboarding skills without having to pay Snowboard Dude another almost 100 bucks to watch me fall on my butt.
This time I thought I prepared a little better. I found some pants that were nice and baggy and came up higher on my waist. I wore gloves that were easier to pull off and put back on. I even left the face mask and all the extra gear I ended up taking off the last time at home. So we get there and we start our lesson. Luckily, not too many people wanted to learn to snowboard at 6:30 so it was just the three of us and the instructor (again, try to make sure instructor is not high- this may not always be possible). We worked on a couple of things I had learned last time and I managed to only fall once- improvement. After a little practice, we made it over to the lift which promptly decided to stop working. Luckily, there is a tiny little hill by the lift that we could walk up and practice our newly acquired skills until the lift started to work again.
Once the lift began to work, Tristan, Snowboard Dude 2, and I went up to the top to test our newly acquired mad snowboard skills. Jenn decided that maybe she is a sit by the pool kind of girl as well and stayed at the bottom to await our safe return. So we get up to the top and Snowboard Dude 2 was nice enough to get off the lift with me and hold on to me so I wouldn't face plant. And let me tell you, I had a death grip. So I made it off the lift in one piece, pants fully intact. Once we got to the top of the trail, we strapped on our boards and Snowboard Dude 2 was nice enough to help me up so we could get going. This time I did alot better. I fell a few times but Snowboard Dude 2 would come up and help me up, so that was less frustrating that last time. I would follow Tristan's snowtrail which somehow made it easier to concentrate and not fall. By then the lesson was over and well worth the $5 that was spent.
We decided we should make a couple more trips up the lift as to get the full benefit from the $12 lift tickets and our first task would be convincing Jenn she wouldn't die. After about 20 minutes, we were able to convince her that Tristan loved her and wouldn't let her die on the mountain. I also tried to bribe her with hot cocoa. She finally gave in after Tristan strapped her foot in the boot and pulled her onto the lift! Nothing like a little coercion to get you to the top of the mountain.
In the end, I ended up coming down the mountain four times and only falling about 10 times. Now, 10 times may seem like alot but you have to compare it to the first snowboaring experience when I fell every two feet. You also have to take into consideration that a couple times I fell on purpose because my legs just needed a rest and once I fell because some girl stuck her ski pole under my snowboard causeing both of us to flail down the mountain.
Overall, I considered this trip a success. That is, until I sat down to take my boots off and realized that Ice Butt had returned.
This time I thought I prepared a little better. I found some pants that were nice and baggy and came up higher on my waist. I wore gloves that were easier to pull off and put back on. I even left the face mask and all the extra gear I ended up taking off the last time at home. So we get there and we start our lesson. Luckily, not too many people wanted to learn to snowboard at 6:30 so it was just the three of us and the instructor (again, try to make sure instructor is not high- this may not always be possible). We worked on a couple of things I had learned last time and I managed to only fall once- improvement. After a little practice, we made it over to the lift which promptly decided to stop working. Luckily, there is a tiny little hill by the lift that we could walk up and practice our newly acquired skills until the lift started to work again.
Once the lift began to work, Tristan, Snowboard Dude 2, and I went up to the top to test our newly acquired mad snowboard skills. Jenn decided that maybe she is a sit by the pool kind of girl as well and stayed at the bottom to await our safe return. So we get up to the top and Snowboard Dude 2 was nice enough to get off the lift with me and hold on to me so I wouldn't face plant. And let me tell you, I had a death grip. So I made it off the lift in one piece, pants fully intact. Once we got to the top of the trail, we strapped on our boards and Snowboard Dude 2 was nice enough to help me up so we could get going. This time I did alot better. I fell a few times but Snowboard Dude 2 would come up and help me up, so that was less frustrating that last time. I would follow Tristan's snowtrail which somehow made it easier to concentrate and not fall. By then the lesson was over and well worth the $5 that was spent.
We decided we should make a couple more trips up the lift as to get the full benefit from the $12 lift tickets and our first task would be convincing Jenn she wouldn't die. After about 20 minutes, we were able to convince her that Tristan loved her and wouldn't let her die on the mountain. I also tried to bribe her with hot cocoa. She finally gave in after Tristan strapped her foot in the boot and pulled her onto the lift! Nothing like a little coercion to get you to the top of the mountain.
In the end, I ended up coming down the mountain four times and only falling about 10 times. Now, 10 times may seem like alot but you have to compare it to the first snowboaring experience when I fell every two feet. You also have to take into consideration that a couple times I fell on purpose because my legs just needed a rest and once I fell because some girl stuck her ski pole under my snowboard causeing both of us to flail down the mountain.
Overall, I considered this trip a success. That is, until I sat down to take my boots off and realized that Ice Butt had returned.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Sometimes Ignorance is Bliss
I have never been a huge fan of coffee. I will drink it if it is REALLY early or I am REALLY tired or it has a TON of milk and sugar in it. That started in high school when we would have to be at school at 5:30 in the am for show choir trips. That was early- too early. So I would make my way to 7-11 for coffee with a TON of chocolate milk. This was before there was a Starbucks on every corner.
Time passed and Starbucks began to take over the world. I still wasn't a huge fan and I clung to my cheapy 7-11 coffee. Then I met the Starbucks Mocha Latte and my life changed. I found that the Mocha Latte was dependable. Wherever I went (or moved), the Mocha Latte was there. Yes, it was a tad expensive but I guess you pay for the privilege of calling your drink a Grande. I lived for several years in the warm glow of these Mocha Latte's, only straying between Halloween and Christmas to the ever illustrious, and rather tasty Peppermint Mocha. My Mocha Lattes and I were doing just fine. And then I found out the truth.
See, Dr. HokieKev and I went to Seattle this summer. Apparently, coffee lives in Seattle. Or at least has a summer home there. So anyway, we went to Seattle to visit our friends Nilu and Rob and inevitably coffee came up. And Nilu told me the truth about Starbucks. If you like Starbucks, you may want to stop reading as I would hate to ruin it for you. They burn their beans when they roast them. This ensures that all Starbucks coffee tastes the exact same. I guess they don't want you to go to one Starbucks, get a cup of coffee, drink it and then go across the street to another Starbucks and have a different tasting coffee. They have to keep their corporate image. Anyway, ever since this revelation every time I drink my once tasty Mocha Latte, all I taste is burn. And that kind of ruins the experience.
Time passed and Starbucks began to take over the world. I still wasn't a huge fan and I clung to my cheapy 7-11 coffee. Then I met the Starbucks Mocha Latte and my life changed. I found that the Mocha Latte was dependable. Wherever I went (or moved), the Mocha Latte was there. Yes, it was a tad expensive but I guess you pay for the privilege of calling your drink a Grande. I lived for several years in the warm glow of these Mocha Latte's, only straying between Halloween and Christmas to the ever illustrious, and rather tasty Peppermint Mocha. My Mocha Lattes and I were doing just fine. And then I found out the truth.
See, Dr. HokieKev and I went to Seattle this summer. Apparently, coffee lives in Seattle. Or at least has a summer home there. So anyway, we went to Seattle to visit our friends Nilu and Rob and inevitably coffee came up. And Nilu told me the truth about Starbucks. If you like Starbucks, you may want to stop reading as I would hate to ruin it for you. They burn their beans when they roast them. This ensures that all Starbucks coffee tastes the exact same. I guess they don't want you to go to one Starbucks, get a cup of coffee, drink it and then go across the street to another Starbucks and have a different tasting coffee. They have to keep their corporate image. Anyway, ever since this revelation every time I drink my once tasty Mocha Latte, all I taste is burn. And that kind of ruins the experience.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Life Lesson # 987- How (NOT) to Snowboard
I want to be good at winter sports- I really do. The problem, however, is that I grew up on the water doing nice summery things and never did anything wintery until I was a grownup. Learning to ski when you are 6 is apparently easier than learning when you are 20. The other problem is that, to be good at something, you have to do it more than once a year. The 4 times I have been skiing in 7 years probably does not lead to getting good. And then we moved to Utah...supposedly, Utah has the greatest snow on earth- the license plate says so. Dr. HokieKev and I also have several friends who see going skiing every day as a fun activity. Yesterday, we decided to join them at the ungodly hour of 8 in the am and at the ungodly temperature of -30 degrees F (you read it right, NEGATIVE 30). So we met and made our way up the mountain to the ski area. I hesitate to call it a resort because a resort would have had a spa and I would have ended up there instead of on my butt all day.
I always feel bad when we go skiing. See, Dr. HokieKev knows what he is doing and, while he probably won't be joining the line to try out for the Olympics anytime soon, he is way beyond the green circle slopes which are pretty much at the top of my winter sports range. He wants to zoom down the slopes while I am perfectly content to coast along very slowly and stop (fall) several times along the way. He is pretty patient with me but I know its no fun. I also tend to fall alot on skis- face forward into cold, hard snow. These, along with other, reasons are what tempted me to try snowboarding. I figured I would either be a natural at it or, at the very least, would end up on my butt which has infinitely more padding than my face. And so began the day of discovering how (not) to snowboard. Let me share with you what I have learned.
1. It is well worth the $95 dollars for the two hour lesson. Snowboard Dude will teach you many useful things, like how to strap in your boots and how to get up after you fall on your butt. Try to make sure Snowboard Dude isn't stoned although this may not always be possible.
2. When you fall off the lift, duck. The last thing you need after sprawling yourself on the snow is to be hit in the head with a lift chair. You paid Snowboard Dude good money to pull you to safety.
3. Refrain from wearing those cute, lowrider snowpants. You will spend all day pulling them up as not to flash your cute blue panties to the entire mountain. If you are wearing long underwear, they will come up higher on the waist than said cute snowpants and will end up wet. Since it is -30, the wet will freeze and you will end up with ice butt. Ice butt is not fun. Suck it up and wear the non-cute overall snowpants like your mom used to make you wear to sled down the neighbor's driveway.
4. Nevermind the five year olds zooming past you after you have fallen on your butt for the hundredth time. If you mind them, it will just make you sad that they are all zoomy and you are indeed, on your butt.
5. When you make it down the mountain, sit down before you unstrap your boot. If you don't, you will end up sliding sideways down the bunny slope. You will have to fall to prevent this. Your butt already hurts.
6. Learn to turn the easy way before you start trying to turn the hard way. This is easier said than done.
7. When the lesson is over and you decide it is time for lunch, remember how many times you have fallen and that a frozen butt doesn't feel the pain. When you begin to defrost in the lodge, not only will ice butt melt but you will be reminded that your butt is now one big bruise.
8. Don't try to fancily get off the lift to keep up with your husband. Just go slow. Falling off the lift- again- is not fun. Especially since only one foot is strapped in. The free foot will go flying. If you are lucky, your knee will not twist and your cute, lowrider snowpants will not split down the front. I was not lucky. The only thing worse then ice butt is...well, you get the picture.
9. If necessary, sit in the snow while husband and friend go down the mountain. Maybe by the time they make it up the lift again, you will be ready to head down.
10. When you start to get going, just go with it. No need to scream and fall down- on your butt, once again. All that does is give you another chance to see all those five year olds go zoomy zoomy right by your crashed self.
11. Thank friend for telling you how to fall. Somehow, Snowboard Dude skipped that part. I am probably lucky my wrists are still in tact. (Thanks Chris!)
12. When you get home, first thing- pay attention, this is important- take a painkiller. Trust me, this is important. REALLY important. When you fully thaw, you will hurt. ALOT.
As we went to bed that night I looked over and apologized to Dr. HokieKev for not being good at winter sports. He replied, exact words, "It's okay. I am sure there is something I am not good at- I just haven't found it yet."
In conclusion, I have decided that- while I may brave the mountain again- I am definitely a summer sports kind of girl...or maybe a sit by the pool and sip fruity beverages kind of girl!
PS- It is Tuesday and I still hurt. Surprisingly, not in my legs but everywhere else. I cannot stress enough- Aleve is your friend.
I always feel bad when we go skiing. See, Dr. HokieKev knows what he is doing and, while he probably won't be joining the line to try out for the Olympics anytime soon, he is way beyond the green circle slopes which are pretty much at the top of my winter sports range. He wants to zoom down the slopes while I am perfectly content to coast along very slowly and stop (fall) several times along the way. He is pretty patient with me but I know its no fun. I also tend to fall alot on skis- face forward into cold, hard snow. These, along with other, reasons are what tempted me to try snowboarding. I figured I would either be a natural at it or, at the very least, would end up on my butt which has infinitely more padding than my face. And so began the day of discovering how (not) to snowboard. Let me share with you what I have learned.
1. It is well worth the $95 dollars for the two hour lesson. Snowboard Dude will teach you many useful things, like how to strap in your boots and how to get up after you fall on your butt. Try to make sure Snowboard Dude isn't stoned although this may not always be possible.
2. When you fall off the lift, duck. The last thing you need after sprawling yourself on the snow is to be hit in the head with a lift chair. You paid Snowboard Dude good money to pull you to safety.
3. Refrain from wearing those cute, lowrider snowpants. You will spend all day pulling them up as not to flash your cute blue panties to the entire mountain. If you are wearing long underwear, they will come up higher on the waist than said cute snowpants and will end up wet. Since it is -30, the wet will freeze and you will end up with ice butt. Ice butt is not fun. Suck it up and wear the non-cute overall snowpants like your mom used to make you wear to sled down the neighbor's driveway.
4. Nevermind the five year olds zooming past you after you have fallen on your butt for the hundredth time. If you mind them, it will just make you sad that they are all zoomy and you are indeed, on your butt.
5. When you make it down the mountain, sit down before you unstrap your boot. If you don't, you will end up sliding sideways down the bunny slope. You will have to fall to prevent this. Your butt already hurts.
6. Learn to turn the easy way before you start trying to turn the hard way. This is easier said than done.
7. When the lesson is over and you decide it is time for lunch, remember how many times you have fallen and that a frozen butt doesn't feel the pain. When you begin to defrost in the lodge, not only will ice butt melt but you will be reminded that your butt is now one big bruise.
8. Don't try to fancily get off the lift to keep up with your husband. Just go slow. Falling off the lift- again- is not fun. Especially since only one foot is strapped in. The free foot will go flying. If you are lucky, your knee will not twist and your cute, lowrider snowpants will not split down the front. I was not lucky. The only thing worse then ice butt is...well, you get the picture.
9. If necessary, sit in the snow while husband and friend go down the mountain. Maybe by the time they make it up the lift again, you will be ready to head down.
10. When you start to get going, just go with it. No need to scream and fall down- on your butt, once again. All that does is give you another chance to see all those five year olds go zoomy zoomy right by your crashed self.
11. Thank friend for telling you how to fall. Somehow, Snowboard Dude skipped that part. I am probably lucky my wrists are still in tact. (Thanks Chris!)
12. When you get home, first thing- pay attention, this is important- take a painkiller. Trust me, this is important. REALLY important. When you fully thaw, you will hurt. ALOT.
As we went to bed that night I looked over and apologized to Dr. HokieKev for not being good at winter sports. He replied, exact words, "It's okay. I am sure there is something I am not good at- I just haven't found it yet."
In conclusion, I have decided that- while I may brave the mountain again- I am definitely a summer sports kind of girl...or maybe a sit by the pool and sip fruity beverages kind of girl!
PS- It is Tuesday and I still hurt. Surprisingly, not in my legs but everywhere else. I cannot stress enough- Aleve is your friend.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Just what kind of girl do you think I am...
When I was a senior in high school, my best friend Ramona and I took a trip to North Carolina to visit another friend at his college. Said friend is in a fraternity- we knew we would be going to a couple of parties. We also knew we would be spending our nights in a male dorm with pretty strict rules about overnight visitors of the opposite sex (we ignored these rules and blew up our air mattress right on the floor of his dorm room).
Anyway, after a six hour drive including being pulled over in Emporia, VA for doing 5 miles over the speed limit, seeing renegade horses galloping on a median, and getting lost in Fayetteville, NC- we finally made it to Wingate with our 6 foot tall Gumby doll no worse for the wear. As we were getting ready for the weekend's first party and the boys were off doing something faternity related (and very loud) upstairs, Ramona threw a box of condoms on the bed. Not strange- remember, boys, fraternity parties, no adult supervision. She had a pretty serious boyfriend at the time, I did not. She said she wanted to make sure that I was "safe" should I be put in a situation to need said condoms. Still, not strange. Upon further review, however, I noticed that the box she threw on the bed contained not 3, not 5, not 20, but 100 condoms. ONE HUNDRED!!! We were only there for three days...who needs 100 condoms for three days...that is over one an hour. I promptly asked her what she thought I was planning to do that weekend. She replied with something along the lines of- well, you never know. We both laughed.
This story came to mind yesterday as I was strolling through the aisles at Sam's Club- I thought of it and wondered if these econo packs were sold in Utah. They aren't. You can get your 100 pounds of sugar but not your 100 pack of condoms. Just in case you needed to know...
PS- For the multiple parental units that read this- all 100 condoms were filled with water and used as balloons.
Anyway, after a six hour drive including being pulled over in Emporia, VA for doing 5 miles over the speed limit, seeing renegade horses galloping on a median, and getting lost in Fayetteville, NC- we finally made it to Wingate with our 6 foot tall Gumby doll no worse for the wear. As we were getting ready for the weekend's first party and the boys were off doing something faternity related (and very loud) upstairs, Ramona threw a box of condoms on the bed. Not strange- remember, boys, fraternity parties, no adult supervision. She had a pretty serious boyfriend at the time, I did not. She said she wanted to make sure that I was "safe" should I be put in a situation to need said condoms. Still, not strange. Upon further review, however, I noticed that the box she threw on the bed contained not 3, not 5, not 20, but 100 condoms. ONE HUNDRED!!! We were only there for three days...who needs 100 condoms for three days...that is over one an hour. I promptly asked her what she thought I was planning to do that weekend. She replied with something along the lines of- well, you never know. We both laughed.
This story came to mind yesterday as I was strolling through the aisles at Sam's Club- I thought of it and wondered if these econo packs were sold in Utah. They aren't. You can get your 100 pounds of sugar but not your 100 pack of condoms. Just in case you needed to know...
PS- For the multiple parental units that read this- all 100 condoms were filled with water and used as balloons.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
The joys of the 757...
Dr. HokieKev and I spent the better part of the 23rd in the air on the way to Hampton (aka- The 757). After driving through a blizzard at 5:30 in the am to get to the Salt Lake airport and wading through millions of little, blond children- yes, millions...you come to Utah, you will see- we settled into our seats for the flight to JFK. Luckily, the plane was not full and we could spread out a little. After arriving at JFK, we hustled through the terminal to the next gate and I went off in search of food. Dr. HokieKev promptly took a seat next to a mother and her 3-ish year old son. When I came back, Dr. HokieKev pointed out that the kid was be boppin to his ipod. 1) What 3 year old needs/has an ipod? 2) What in the world is he listening to? 3) Aren't earbuds dangerous for little kids? But anyway, the kid was cute as he be bopped along. Mom, on the otherhand, looked like she was very taken with herself and her knockoff designer purse. I guess it was good that the kid has an ipod, because mom surely was too wrapped up in her own to pay attention/entertain the child for the hourish layover.
So anyway, at one point mom gets up to check the boards to see when the flight is leaving. She tells the 3 year old to stay in the seats while she walks to the other side of the boarding area. Did I mention the kid was 3...I mean, seriously- you leave your kid in a VERY crowded airport, unattended? This is how kids disappear. Anyway- the kid doesn't listen, and follows her over to the video boards. While all this is happening, two unsuspecting people sit in the now unoccupied seats. When mother and son return, this was the conversation:
Mom: **Head Shimmey** My son and I were sitting there. I just got up to check the board.**Scoff**
Older woman: Sorry, is it just the two of you? There are two seats right there.
Mom:**Scoff** We are NOT sitting in those seats. We were sitting there, get out of our seats.
Older woman: We didn't know. Your stuff was not here.
Mom: **Scoff** I took my stuff with me. Move.
Older woman: So you are in that seat, who is sitting here.
Mom: **Throws purse in seat** MY SON. **Scoff**
At this point the older woman and her husband vacated the seats. The mother then turned to her little boy (3- remember) and said: "Son, that is what we call a bitch!"
It didn't surprise me in the least when she boarded the same flight as Dr. HokieKev and I on the way to Norfolk, VA.
So anyway, at one point mom gets up to check the boards to see when the flight is leaving. She tells the 3 year old to stay in the seats while she walks to the other side of the boarding area. Did I mention the kid was 3...I mean, seriously- you leave your kid in a VERY crowded airport, unattended? This is how kids disappear. Anyway- the kid doesn't listen, and follows her over to the video boards. While all this is happening, two unsuspecting people sit in the now unoccupied seats. When mother and son return, this was the conversation:
Mom: **Head Shimmey** My son and I were sitting there. I just got up to check the board.**Scoff**
Older woman: Sorry, is it just the two of you? There are two seats right there.
Mom:**Scoff** We are NOT sitting in those seats. We were sitting there, get out of our seats.
Older woman: We didn't know. Your stuff was not here.
Mom: **Scoff** I took my stuff with me. Move.
Older woman: So you are in that seat, who is sitting here.
Mom: **Throws purse in seat** MY SON. **Scoff**
At this point the older woman and her husband vacated the seats. The mother then turned to her little boy (3- remember) and said: "Son, that is what we call a bitch!"
It didn't surprise me in the least when she boarded the same flight as Dr. HokieKev and I on the way to Norfolk, VA.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Life Lesson #962- Fathers do not babysit thier children
Today's rant is courtesy of the checkout girl at the grocery store and the parents of the one week old who decided that it was a good time to make "Baby's First Sam's Club" trip in the snowstorm.
So last week I decided to make the trek to the grocery store- in the cold. Not preferable but when you realize the only food in your house is a bunch of basil, a half full jar of mayo, and some taco seasoning something has to be done. After filling my cart with enough supplies to ensure that I will not have to venture back until 2009, I make my way to the checkout. In front of me is a father and a couple of kids- mom is nowhere in site (I say this because it is rare in Utah). So anyway, the checkout girl comments that it is so nice of father to babysit his kids that night. This alone did not strike me as odd but then I realized that I hear this alot. Maybe it is still 1954 out here, but I was under the impression that fathers did not babysit, they parented.
Babysitting implies a temporary situation, usually ending with the exchange of money. Seriously, babysitting is what I did when I was 12. I would go over to someone else's house, watch someone else's kid, order pizza with someone else's money, put someone else's kids to bed, and watch someone else's TV until someone else came home and paid me. For a brief period of time, I suppose I was in charge of keeping their kids safe but this was only temporary and then I could go back to my 90210 watching 7th grade self. Fathers are not babysitters. Yes, it was nice of the father to take the kids out and spend time with them but this is something fathers should be doing. It is kind of part of the job description.
Along a similar note, why on earth would you take your newborn out in a snowstorm? I mean, I get that you need diapers and unimaginable quantities of sugar and chocolate for your holiday treats but did the baby really have to make the journey to Sam's Club? I only say this because the baby in question was accompanied by TWO parents- most definately a situation where one could have stayed home. I get that mom probably wanted to get out of the house- ok, that's cool- let dad stay home. And before you go saying- oh, they were probably young and didn't know better- let me tell you that they were well over the average age to pop out a kid in Utah and either way, should have known better. I guess I should not have been totally shocked at this as I see it all the time. I understand families like to spend time together and that is cool- but wouldn't it be faster and easier for one parent to stay home and hang out with the kiddos while the other one runs the errands. Not only will the errands get accomplished quicker but the stores will not be full of screaming kids who are sick of running errands (The mother who smacked her kid across the face for calling his father a "meany head" is another story entirely.). This will, in turn, led to much more plesant family time. It will also clear up the aisles in Wal-Mart (**shudder**).
So last week I decided to make the trek to the grocery store- in the cold. Not preferable but when you realize the only food in your house is a bunch of basil, a half full jar of mayo, and some taco seasoning something has to be done. After filling my cart with enough supplies to ensure that I will not have to venture back until 2009, I make my way to the checkout. In front of me is a father and a couple of kids- mom is nowhere in site (I say this because it is rare in Utah). So anyway, the checkout girl comments that it is so nice of father to babysit his kids that night. This alone did not strike me as odd but then I realized that I hear this alot. Maybe it is still 1954 out here, but I was under the impression that fathers did not babysit, they parented.
Babysitting implies a temporary situation, usually ending with the exchange of money. Seriously, babysitting is what I did when I was 12. I would go over to someone else's house, watch someone else's kid, order pizza with someone else's money, put someone else's kids to bed, and watch someone else's TV until someone else came home and paid me. For a brief period of time, I suppose I was in charge of keeping their kids safe but this was only temporary and then I could go back to my 90210 watching 7th grade self. Fathers are not babysitters. Yes, it was nice of the father to take the kids out and spend time with them but this is something fathers should be doing. It is kind of part of the job description.
Along a similar note, why on earth would you take your newborn out in a snowstorm? I mean, I get that you need diapers and unimaginable quantities of sugar and chocolate for your holiday treats but did the baby really have to make the journey to Sam's Club? I only say this because the baby in question was accompanied by TWO parents- most definately a situation where one could have stayed home. I get that mom probably wanted to get out of the house- ok, that's cool- let dad stay home. And before you go saying- oh, they were probably young and didn't know better- let me tell you that they were well over the average age to pop out a kid in Utah and either way, should have known better. I guess I should not have been totally shocked at this as I see it all the time. I understand families like to spend time together and that is cool- but wouldn't it be faster and easier for one parent to stay home and hang out with the kiddos while the other one runs the errands. Not only will the errands get accomplished quicker but the stores will not be full of screaming kids who are sick of running errands (The mother who smacked her kid across the face for calling his father a "meany head" is another story entirely.). This will, in turn, led to much more plesant family time. It will also clear up the aisles in Wal-Mart (**shudder**).
Friday, November 14, 2008
Halloween 2008
Our first Halloween in Logan was fairly eventful. We did the whole hand out candy thing- Dr. HokieKev even manned the door- and then went to a party- Dr. HokieKev even dressed up. The kids in Utah are vastly different from the kids in Florida. In Florida, the kids saw my candy bowl as their own personal glutton pail and would take handfuls. I honestly don't blame them because I always buy good candy. I don't want to be the loser house that gives out lollipops and fruit flavored tootsie rolls. On the other hand, the kids in Utah are SUPER polite! They take one piece, say thank you, and are on their merry way. I had to go as far as telling them they could have as much as they wanted- I mean, fun size candy bars are more like bitesize- go ahead kis, take a few more. We still had a huge bowl leftover- maybe I was a little overzealous this year.
After trick or treating we headed over to Chris's for a Halloween party. It was a great place to get rid of the excess cupcakes I made for work. Anyway- here are some pictures. As always, click the picture to see the rest!
I will leave you with a story from last Halloween- keep in mind that people in Florida are a different breed of special.
Location: My front door, Halloween night 2007
::Doorbell rings:
Trick or Treaters: TRICK OR TREAT
Me in my head: Shouldn't these kids be in bed right now, I mean they are like 3 and 6 and it is almost 9:30 pm. They must be transplants. (You see we live in a tidy little upper middle class neighborhood where it is more than safe to walk around after dark, yet these people were in a car.)
Me out loud: Happy Halloween are you guys having fun?
Some older lady running out of her car: OH Thank you SO much for staying up for us, you look like you are almost out, you should give us all of it! :Shoves kids out of the way and bag into my face:
ANOTHER older lady in a bathrobe: I'm pregnant, no need for a costume!
Me in my head: OHM WTF!!!
::Gives candy to kids and weirdo grownups::
Pregnant lady: Oh, this bag is for my daughter. She couldn't make it tonight, she isn't due until January!
::Dumps rest of nasty chewy SweeTarts into the bag for the fetus, blows out pumpkins and turns off the light::
Upon my return inside, I literally fell onto the couch laughing. I have never been pregnant or had a child, but I am pretty confident in saying that newborns cannot eat candy. Its one thing when parents take their cute little infants around trick or treating because they are cute in those little costumes. But to trick or treat for a fetus??? They must be a product of the Florida public school system!
After trick or treating we headed over to Chris's for a Halloween party. It was a great place to get rid of the excess cupcakes I made for work. Anyway- here are some pictures. As always, click the picture to see the rest!
I will leave you with a story from last Halloween- keep in mind that people in Florida are a different breed of special.
Location: My front door, Halloween night 2007
::Doorbell rings:
Trick or Treaters: TRICK OR TREAT
Me in my head: Shouldn't these kids be in bed right now, I mean they are like 3 and 6 and it is almost 9:30 pm. They must be transplants. (You see we live in a tidy little upper middle class neighborhood where it is more than safe to walk around after dark, yet these people were in a car.)
Me out loud: Happy Halloween are you guys having fun?
Some older lady running out of her car: OH Thank you SO much for staying up for us, you look like you are almost out, you should give us all of it! :Shoves kids out of the way and bag into my face:
ANOTHER older lady in a bathrobe: I'm pregnant, no need for a costume!
Me in my head: OHM WTF!!!
::Gives candy to kids and weirdo grownups::
Pregnant lady: Oh, this bag is for my daughter. She couldn't make it tonight, she isn't due until January!
::Dumps rest of nasty chewy SweeTarts into the bag for the fetus, blows out pumpkins and turns off the light::
Upon my return inside, I literally fell onto the couch laughing. I have never been pregnant or had a child, but I am pretty confident in saying that newborns cannot eat candy. Its one thing when parents take their cute little infants around trick or treating because they are cute in those little costumes. But to trick or treat for a fetus??? They must be a product of the Florida public school system!
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Check Montana off the List
A few weeks ago, Dr. HokieKev's mom and Mike came for a visit. We all decided to take a trip to Yellowstone. Let me just say that four adults in one car for 8 hours is less than stellar. Good thing I convinced Dr. Hokiekev to channel his inner gas guzzler and choose to take the Explorer over the Civic- my legs were squished as it was and I have short legs. So anyway, we left early Friday morning (begrudgingly on my part- I am not an early morning type of person) and began our trek to Montana. A million hours and a couple naps later, we arrived in the state of Brian Schweitzer. After checking into the hotel, we proceeded to venture into Yellowstone. Well...no one told us that everything in Yellowstone shuts down for the season- not the winter season- just "the season" between when the summer tourists leave and the skiing/snowmobiling crowd arrives. After driving 15 minutes into the park, Dr. HokieKev realized we should have stopped for gas lest we sleep with the elk- so we turned around, headed back out, got gas, turned back around, and proceeded back into the park. The next two days we spent enjoying both Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons. The pictures below prove that I do not follow directions very well. (Click on the picture to see the rest)
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
The (Almost) Ace of Cakes
There are a lot of things in life I think I can do fairly well. There are other things in life that I get extremely overzealous about- making cakes is one of these things. I am usually pretty good at it...although the cake in life never truly matches the cake in my head, they usually end up tasting pretty good and I guess, in the end, that is all that matters. With this in mind, let's take a tour of some of the cakes I have overzealously attempted.
This is Dr. HokieKev's favorite. I make it at Thanksgiving. I don't know why I picked Thanksgiving because it doesn't really have that "I just got off the Mayflower and made friends with the natives" kind of feel, but nevertheless, it is a Thanksgiving cake. It is also a Flourless Chocolate Cake- AKA The Densest Thing Ever. I only make it at Thanksgiving because it takes forever and is completely from scratch. I have been asked on several occasions where I bought it. Please ignore the fact that it is slightly unbalanced. Flourless cakes don't bake evenly.
I also attempted this cake last Thanksgiving. Too bad I forgot that Mousse had to congeal overnight. I almost cried when I had to throw it away. What a waste of Nutella that was...
I made this cake last year at Christmas. Red Velvet with Homemade Cream Cheese Frosting. It was delish and screamed CHRISTMAS!
This one was made for the SuperBowl. It took FOREVER to stencil on that Patriots guy. The cake was good. The Patriots lost. I was picking sprinkles off the floor for days.
I went a little overboard with the pink frosting flowers on this one. Nevertheless, once the real live flowers were removed, it tasted great.
And now to the latest creation- I made this golf cake for Mike's birthday. The top looks great- the sides, not so much. I guess you have to be REALLY careful with the consistency of homemade frosting. I will take comments on what the brown "hole" is. Kevin's mom thought it was the reason that I thought the cake looked bad....
In reality, the reason the cake was a disaster was because the third layer kept slipping and sliding on its chocolate fudge frosting. I ended up having to cut around the sides to make it even. Then the green icing decided it wanted to play slip and slide too. Oh well, taste great! And, after 5 days, I managed to get the green out of the icing tools, the counter tops, my fingers, my tshirt, the floor...well, you get the idea!
I do wish someone would remind me the next time I go to bake a cake that I am not, in fact, the Ace of Cakes, and should maybe just stick to two layers. But, then again, I probably won't listen...
This is Dr. HokieKev's favorite. I make it at Thanksgiving. I don't know why I picked Thanksgiving because it doesn't really have that "I just got off the Mayflower and made friends with the natives" kind of feel, but nevertheless, it is a Thanksgiving cake. It is also a Flourless Chocolate Cake- AKA The Densest Thing Ever. I only make it at Thanksgiving because it takes forever and is completely from scratch. I have been asked on several occasions where I bought it. Please ignore the fact that it is slightly unbalanced. Flourless cakes don't bake evenly.
I also attempted this cake last Thanksgiving. Too bad I forgot that Mousse had to congeal overnight. I almost cried when I had to throw it away. What a waste of Nutella that was...
I made this cake last year at Christmas. Red Velvet with Homemade Cream Cheese Frosting. It was delish and screamed CHRISTMAS!
This one was made for the SuperBowl. It took FOREVER to stencil on that Patriots guy. The cake was good. The Patriots lost. I was picking sprinkles off the floor for days.
I went a little overboard with the pink frosting flowers on this one. Nevertheless, once the real live flowers were removed, it tasted great.
And now to the latest creation- I made this golf cake for Mike's birthday. The top looks great- the sides, not so much. I guess you have to be REALLY careful with the consistency of homemade frosting. I will take comments on what the brown "hole" is. Kevin's mom thought it was the reason that I thought the cake looked bad....
In reality, the reason the cake was a disaster was because the third layer kept slipping and sliding on its chocolate fudge frosting. I ended up having to cut around the sides to make it even. Then the green icing decided it wanted to play slip and slide too. Oh well, taste great! And, after 5 days, I managed to get the green out of the icing tools, the counter tops, my fingers, my tshirt, the floor...well, you get the idea!I do wish someone would remind me the next time I go to bake a cake that I am not, in fact, the Ace of Cakes, and should maybe just stick to two layers. But, then again, I probably won't listen...
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
The Quest for Clouds
So Friday night after my burrito and champagne dinner (no, they don't go together and no, I don't care), I vowed to awaken early and start the long drive to Salt Lake City around 9. Yeah, that didn't happen. I was awoken by a phone call at 9:30. It was cold. It was raining. I decided to trek down there anyway, as Dr. HokieKev was in Vegas and I was operating under the premise that at least my stimulation of the economy would lead to tangible goods instead of hours of entertainment dumping money into the casino industry. So off I went...a few hours late. It rained almost the whole way down. It was dark. People were idiots. And then, out of nowhere, a shining beacon of light emerged at the crest of the highway. A beacon so bright that I had to call Dr. Hokiekev, who was by now engrossed in a poker game somewhere, with the news of the wonder that had been brought to Utah. What, you may ask, could illicit such a reaction on this cold, wet, morning afternoon? Well, over the crest of the highway, I saw a billboard for this restaurant.
It was wonderful. If you have never been there- go, fast. They aren't everywhere but there are a TON in VA as the company started in Alexandria or Arlington or one of those other fancy Northern Virginia towns. Seriously, they have the best burgers ever and handcut Idaho fries. The lines are long but it is so totally worth it.
After my fantastic lunch, I set out to find some things to decorate my house. First on the list was a new bed set for the guest bedroom. I bought this in rust.
I also spent the better part of an hour looking at several different bedding options for my own bed. I had a list. I found each item on said list. They all felt scratchy. I already have a scratchy comforter. This is why you can't buy bedding online. So anyway, I bought the guest bedding and went along my merry way. Later in the day, I picked up some fancy brown sheets and a brown decorative pillow to go with the fancy bedding set. It is beautiful. It is also sad that the guest room bedding is much nicer than the bedding in our bedroom. For now anyways.
In an effort to remedy this, I have spent the better part of the morning looking for bedding online. I found this one at Linens and Things. I didn't feel it this weekend. It says it is 300 thread count. It probably isn't. Linens and Things lies. But it is pretty.
I really want this bedding. It is from Restoration Hardware and costs way more than any bedding should. It is from the Italian Framed Satin Collection.
Or this one...also Restoration Hardware. Also equaling the GDP of a small country. This one is from the Italian Tonal Piped Collection. I can't decide which one I like the best and have been coveting both for a very long while but just can't bring myself to spend over $800 on bedding.
I decided that I wasn't ready to stimulate the economy that much quite yet so I kept looking. I found this gem. I can't remember where it was from or what it was called. For this reason, I really, really like it. (edit: I remembered...JCPenny)
Then I hit up the hotel:collection at Macy's. That is the goal. I want my bed to feel like the cloud bed at the Ritz Carleton. I found two. The first is the Glacier bedding. The second is Tri Colorblock. Both are on sale.
I think out of all of them, this last one is my favorite. It looks like it could be in a hotel. I tried to reach through the computer screen to feel it but that didn't work. Macy's lies less about their thread counts, so I am trusting it isn't scratchy. Problem is, by the time you add the comforter, the bed skirt, two Euro shams, two quilted king shams, and the neckroll pillow it totals up to over $500 bucks- even at the "Lowest Price of the Season". Once again, the GDP of a small country. But I guess you get what you pay for...
It was wonderful. If you have never been there- go, fast. They aren't everywhere but there are a TON in VA as the company started in Alexandria or Arlington or one of those other fancy Northern Virginia towns. Seriously, they have the best burgers ever and handcut Idaho fries. The lines are long but it is so totally worth it.After my fantastic lunch, I set out to find some things to decorate my house. First on the list was a new bed set for the guest bedroom. I bought this in rust.
I also spent the better part of an hour looking at several different bedding options for my own bed. I had a list. I found each item on said list. They all felt scratchy. I already have a scratchy comforter. This is why you can't buy bedding online. So anyway, I bought the guest bedding and went along my merry way. Later in the day, I picked up some fancy brown sheets and a brown decorative pillow to go with the fancy bedding set. It is beautiful. It is also sad that the guest room bedding is much nicer than the bedding in our bedroom. For now anyways.In an effort to remedy this, I have spent the better part of the morning looking for bedding online. I found this one at Linens and Things. I didn't feel it this weekend. It says it is 300 thread count. It probably isn't. Linens and Things lies. But it is pretty.
I really want this bedding. It is from Restoration Hardware and costs way more than any bedding should. It is from the Italian Framed Satin Collection.
Or this one...also Restoration Hardware. Also equaling the GDP of a small country. This one is from the Italian Tonal Piped Collection. I can't decide which one I like the best and have been coveting both for a very long while but just can't bring myself to spend over $800 on bedding.
I decided that I wasn't ready to stimulate the economy that much quite yet so I kept looking. I found this gem. I can't remember where it was from or what it was called. For this reason, I really, really like it. (edit: I remembered...JCPenny)
Then I hit up the hotel:collection at Macy's. That is the goal. I want my bed to feel like the cloud bed at the Ritz Carleton. I found two. The first is the Glacier bedding. The second is Tri Colorblock. Both are on sale.
I think out of all of them, this last one is my favorite. It looks like it could be in a hotel. I tried to reach through the computer screen to feel it but that didn't work. Macy's lies less about their thread counts, so I am trusting it isn't scratchy. Problem is, by the time you add the comforter, the bed skirt, two Euro shams, two quilted king shams, and the neckroll pillow it totals up to over $500 bucks- even at the "Lowest Price of the Season". Once again, the GDP of a small country. But I guess you get what you pay for...Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Get Up Outta My Grill
Maybe all places are a little strange and I am just starting to notice it more or maybe Utah is just a weird place. And this is aside from the fact that they have outlawed malted girlie beverages for looking too much like Sprite. Seriously, if your kid is going to get drunk, they are going to get drunk and it doesn't matter whether or not the product looks like Sprite. But anyway...
I have notice int he last few months that they people here like to be very close. I guess it makes since with all the procreating they do out here that they like to be close because, after all, in order to procreate you must get pretty close and that is fine...get close with your spouse. Get close with your friends. Get close with people you are acquainted with. But please, for the love of Pete, stop trying to get close with me. I don't know you- get out of my grill.
You all know the type of people I am talking about- the ones that stand so close to you when they talk that you can see the remnants of their last meal. It is very annoying. Personal space please! When it comes to the close talker, you can at least take a step back in most normal circumstances. But the close line stander is a whole different story. Lately, I have noticed that people out here like to get thisclose when standing in line. I mean, it is one thing if you are in a crowded amusement park or trying to watch the 4th of July fireworks in Boston but it is an entirely different thing to get all up in my business when standing in line at Kohls. When you are standing in line, there is nowhere to go. You can't step forward or you will be too close to the person in front of you. You can't step backwards or you will be even closer to the space encroacher. You can't step sideways or you will be out of line. It is a lose lose situation and you are stuck standing there with Mr. Space Encroacher moving in.
Maybe it is just me but I really don't like the feeling of some stranger breathing down my neck when I am trying to purchase fine home furnishings at a discounted price. So please, Mr. Space Encroacher, take a couple steps back.
I have notice int he last few months that they people here like to be very close. I guess it makes since with all the procreating they do out here that they like to be close because, after all, in order to procreate you must get pretty close and that is fine...get close with your spouse. Get close with your friends. Get close with people you are acquainted with. But please, for the love of Pete, stop trying to get close with me. I don't know you- get out of my grill.
You all know the type of people I am talking about- the ones that stand so close to you when they talk that you can see the remnants of their last meal. It is very annoying. Personal space please! When it comes to the close talker, you can at least take a step back in most normal circumstances. But the close line stander is a whole different story. Lately, I have noticed that people out here like to get thisclose when standing in line. I mean, it is one thing if you are in a crowded amusement park or trying to watch the 4th of July fireworks in Boston but it is an entirely different thing to get all up in my business when standing in line at Kohls. When you are standing in line, there is nowhere to go. You can't step forward or you will be too close to the person in front of you. You can't step backwards or you will be even closer to the space encroacher. You can't step sideways or you will be out of line. It is a lose lose situation and you are stuck standing there with Mr. Space Encroacher moving in.
Maybe it is just me but I really don't like the feeling of some stranger breathing down my neck when I am trying to purchase fine home furnishings at a discounted price. So please, Mr. Space Encroacher, take a couple steps back.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Flashback to the HPT
Dear Kid in Beat Up Honda Prelude,
You may think you are cool pulling up next to girls at stop lights in your beat up old Honda Prelude with your shiny, spinny rims and revving the engine and beeping our horn but in reality you look like an idiot that spent more money on his rims than on his actual car. Seriously, they stopped making Honda Preludes in 2001. A Wikipedia search discovered that yours probably originated somewhere between 1983 and 1987. That means you probably weren't even born when your car was made. How do I know this- well, Wikipedia told me so and we all know that if it is on Wikipedia, it must be true. Besides, your car had that whole boxy thing that was so popular in the 80s going on. I mean, you could maybe sell the thing for $1500- if you are lucky. That is actually being pretty generous considering Kelly Blue Book doesn't even value cars from 1987. The rims alone probably cost you $1000- and that is being conservative. Never mind the super cool racing stripe you had painted down the side. In all actuality, those rims could have cost you way more. I know, I am from the HPT- people rice out Geo Metros...talk about a waste of money. I have seen these POS cars blinged out beyond recognition. Trust me, they don't look cool and neither do you. Your money would have been better spent adopting one of those TV kids who is in need of shoes and toothpaste.
Sincerely,
The Girl Stopped Next to You Who Doesn't Care How Much Your Rims Were
You may think you are cool pulling up next to girls at stop lights in your beat up old Honda Prelude with your shiny, spinny rims and revving the engine and beeping our horn but in reality you look like an idiot that spent more money on his rims than on his actual car. Seriously, they stopped making Honda Preludes in 2001. A Wikipedia search discovered that yours probably originated somewhere between 1983 and 1987. That means you probably weren't even born when your car was made. How do I know this- well, Wikipedia told me so and we all know that if it is on Wikipedia, it must be true. Besides, your car had that whole boxy thing that was so popular in the 80s going on. I mean, you could maybe sell the thing for $1500- if you are lucky. That is actually being pretty generous considering Kelly Blue Book doesn't even value cars from 1987. The rims alone probably cost you $1000- and that is being conservative. Never mind the super cool racing stripe you had painted down the side. In all actuality, those rims could have cost you way more. I know, I am from the HPT- people rice out Geo Metros...talk about a waste of money. I have seen these POS cars blinged out beyond recognition. Trust me, they don't look cool and neither do you. Your money would have been better spent adopting one of those TV kids who is in need of shoes and toothpaste.
Sincerely,
The Girl Stopped Next to You Who Doesn't Care How Much Your Rims Were
Friday, August 15, 2008
Dear People Who Used to Own Our House,
I realize this letter is a little late in coming but I just wanted to take a moment to publicly thank you for leaving our new house in such a stellar condition when you vacated. Really, it is fun for me to go around with various cleaning implements rubbing your kids grubby finger prints off appliances, cabinets, TVs, and sliding glass doors. I am really curious to know how your kids even got their hands as high as they did to make some of those prints. Oh, you think those prints may have been from Dr. HokieKev and I? I don't think so- are hands aren't that tiny, we aren't Chinese gymnasts. Anyway, wiping up the fingerprints wasn't all that big of a deal I suppose. At least not compared to the nastiness you left in the microwave and oven. Seriously, did you think we weren't going to notice the spaghetti sauce gooked on the top of the microwave or all the gunk in the oven. I mean, I know you have two small kids but honestly, how hard is it to take a paper towel to the microwave or hit the self clean button on the oven. I know from experience that it is not hard as I completed these tasks in the first two minutes of trying to cook dinner for the first time.
And speaking of the first time...what a wonderful surprise it was when our Realtor opened the freezer when she let us in the house only to be greeted by a landslide of ice. I understand removing the ice bucket from the freezer to clean it/dry it out but usually people hit the ice maker's off switch after the bucket is removed. Maybe you thought we would need literally a freezer full of ice when we got into town. Even if I made enough frozen beverages for the whole neighborhood, I would not have used all the ice. Instead it ended up on the hardwood floors. If ice did not melt, I would still be picking it up. Of course, all our towels were en route so we had to improvise that clean-up.
Its also really cool that you never forwarded your mail to wherever you are living now. It doesn't really bother me that much as you are the ones out those Gymboree coupons. I do, however, suggest you get the mail forwarded. We have at least 6 bills for your business. I would think that you would want to make sure these all get paid on time and, while we are happy to rewire the house for our HD viewing pleasure and fix that broken towel bar in the bathroom, we are not paying your business's $600 electric bill. Sorry, that wasn't part of the deal. I would be happy to drop it off at your new house but I don't know where you live and you won't return our calls. Oh well, go into collection, not my problem.
Your 1500 pound gun safe is also not my problem. I know you allegedly had it craned into the house while it was being built. I also know that the movers denied you because it is a huge hazard to move. I also know that, if I try really really hard, I can push the thing all the way to the stairs. From there, I am willing to put an ad on Craigslist saying "You get it up the stairs, it's yours." And yes, I realize you probably paid $1000 for it but it is in my way and I would like it gone. No, we do not want to buy it from you. We do not have anything that needs to be under digital lock and key. If I ever buy a small arsenal, I will give you a call. Possession is 9/10ths of the law buddy and right now, this lovely nuisance is in my possession.
One last thing before I let you go, please cancel your phone service so we can hook ours up. Yeah, did you forget that one too, just like you forgot to cancel Dish Network? Oh, you thought we would want Dish Network...well, that is a nice thought but we certainly would rather get the new service that comes with 4 free months then take over your bill that comes with no free months. But back to the phone. You see, we can't use but a couple specific jacks in the house until you cancel your service or we pay for someone to come out and add a third line to the house. We don't really want to do that and you don't live here anymore.
So that is all and if I find anything else, I will have Dr. HokieKev give you a call. But then again, you probably won't answer.
Thanks Again,
The People that Own Your Old House
And speaking of the first time...what a wonderful surprise it was when our Realtor opened the freezer when she let us in the house only to be greeted by a landslide of ice. I understand removing the ice bucket from the freezer to clean it/dry it out but usually people hit the ice maker's off switch after the bucket is removed. Maybe you thought we would need literally a freezer full of ice when we got into town. Even if I made enough frozen beverages for the whole neighborhood, I would not have used all the ice. Instead it ended up on the hardwood floors. If ice did not melt, I would still be picking it up. Of course, all our towels were en route so we had to improvise that clean-up.
Its also really cool that you never forwarded your mail to wherever you are living now. It doesn't really bother me that much as you are the ones out those Gymboree coupons. I do, however, suggest you get the mail forwarded. We have at least 6 bills for your business. I would think that you would want to make sure these all get paid on time and, while we are happy to rewire the house for our HD viewing pleasure and fix that broken towel bar in the bathroom, we are not paying your business's $600 electric bill. Sorry, that wasn't part of the deal. I would be happy to drop it off at your new house but I don't know where you live and you won't return our calls. Oh well, go into collection, not my problem.
Your 1500 pound gun safe is also not my problem. I know you allegedly had it craned into the house while it was being built. I also know that the movers denied you because it is a huge hazard to move. I also know that, if I try really really hard, I can push the thing all the way to the stairs. From there, I am willing to put an ad on Craigslist saying "You get it up the stairs, it's yours." And yes, I realize you probably paid $1000 for it but it is in my way and I would like it gone. No, we do not want to buy it from you. We do not have anything that needs to be under digital lock and key. If I ever buy a small arsenal, I will give you a call. Possession is 9/10ths of the law buddy and right now, this lovely nuisance is in my possession.
One last thing before I let you go, please cancel your phone service so we can hook ours up. Yeah, did you forget that one too, just like you forgot to cancel Dish Network? Oh, you thought we would want Dish Network...well, that is a nice thought but we certainly would rather get the new service that comes with 4 free months then take over your bill that comes with no free months. But back to the phone. You see, we can't use but a couple specific jacks in the house until you cancel your service or we pay for someone to come out and add a third line to the house. We don't really want to do that and you don't live here anymore.
So that is all and if I find anything else, I will have Dr. HokieKev give you a call. But then again, you probably won't answer.
Thanks Again,
The People that Own Your Old House
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Don't Kick the Baby
It seems as though, everywhere I go, I end up almost kicking small children. This is a totally accidental kick of course but these kids, they are just EVERYWHERE!!! Today at the mall I saw two moms with 13 kids between them...and no, I didn't mean to type three...THIRTEEN!!! And all of these children were under the age of 10. Pretty efficient if you ask me. So just imagine the majority of families like that- with 5 or 6 or 7 children. I mean, there is a reason why they sell fresh baked hamburger rolls in packages of 20. But anyway, back to the kicking...
The first incident occurred at a restaurant about two weeks ago. I was standing there, minding my own business, waiting for Dr. HokeiKev to return from the little boys room and just as I took a step towards the door and seemingly out of nowhere came a small child running at warp speed right into my stride. I literally jumped backwards as not to kick this girl in the head. Granted, she was probably two and not really paying attention to those around her- what two year old does that!!! Still, she scared me half to death.
It happened again today in the mall. This time, the girl was a bit older, maybe 6 or 7 (or 16 if you are the Chinese Women's Gymnastics Team) so she really should have been paying attention. But no, she almost walked right into me and again I had to jump out of the way. What is it with these kids? Seriously, one day I am not going to have anywhere to jump to and some poor, unsuspecting child is going to feel the wrath of a knee to the head.
I guess with so many children running around it has to be pretty hard for two parents to keep track...or one for that matter as is the case during the day when dad is off winning the bread. Don't get me wrong, I am all for people having 6 kids if that is what they want. Maybe they could just leave a few at home when they head out to the mall. I mean, seriously, with that many kids you won't miss the two or three at home.
The first incident occurred at a restaurant about two weeks ago. I was standing there, minding my own business, waiting for Dr. HokeiKev to return from the little boys room and just as I took a step towards the door and seemingly out of nowhere came a small child running at warp speed right into my stride. I literally jumped backwards as not to kick this girl in the head. Granted, she was probably two and not really paying attention to those around her- what two year old does that!!! Still, she scared me half to death.
It happened again today in the mall. This time, the girl was a bit older, maybe 6 or 7 (or 16 if you are the Chinese Women's Gymnastics Team) so she really should have been paying attention. But no, she almost walked right into me and again I had to jump out of the way. What is it with these kids? Seriously, one day I am not going to have anywhere to jump to and some poor, unsuspecting child is going to feel the wrath of a knee to the head.
I guess with so many children running around it has to be pretty hard for two parents to keep track...or one for that matter as is the case during the day when dad is off winning the bread. Don't get me wrong, I am all for people having 6 kids if that is what they want. Maybe they could just leave a few at home when they head out to the mall. I mean, seriously, with that many kids you won't miss the two or three at home.
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