Little known facts about Easter preparations at the padded room....

Here are some little known facts about Easter preparations at the padded room... enjoy:

Pre-made sugar cookies with the cute little imprints of colorful bunnies and chicks do NOT taste as good as the package promises. I suspect a bait and switch, but cannot confirm this as of yet. There's a conspiracy here. I'm quite certain.

Regardless of having a list, I will most certainly forget at least two items necessary to make food for Easter lunch. Guaranteed.

Despite my uncontrollable pregnancy cravings some 18 years ago, I still love me some chocolate covered marshmellow bunnies. And i still eat the heads off first.

The glitter egg dye that daughter number 3 insisted I purchase promises to make a monstrous mess in my kitchen. Further I predict I will most likely still be finding said glitter by the time Halloween pumpkin carving rolls around. This years pumpkins will be FANCY!

Daughter number 2, the one who keeps leaving her shoes ALL OVER THE HOUSE - where some people continually trip over them, cannot be trusted to fill plastic Easter eggs when Kit Kats are involved.

Walmart at 5:00 on the Saturday before Easter Sunday is apparently the meeting location for every insane and last minute person in my town, the candy isle is more chaotic than Black Friday, and the frantic crowd makes some cashiers entirely too friendly wherein they insist on calling you honey and sweetheart. Conclusion: Only an insane person would go there at that time. At least that's what I hear. AND having a hot flash in the three person deep line was the icing on the cake. Also, the pouring rain than threatens to drown me in the parking lot was really a cherry topper on that cake.

No matter how old my girls get, I LOVE that they still color Easter eggs, get excited about their Easter gifts, still get dressed up for Easter Sunday and sit with us at church. My girls are awesome.

Happy Easter everyone!

Even zombie millipedes find Laurie from Walking Dead annoying!

Less than a week after the vampire spider incident, I had another near death experience at the scene of the crime.  As I was getting ready the other morning, a millipede crawled up from the drain in the Hubs sink.  The little bugger had crawled up from somewhere and it was staring at me at 6 am.  To read of my other 6 am antics, read here.

So I promptly poured a cup of water down the sink to drown him.  A few minutes later, he was watching me put on my make-up.  Not knowing how many lives these millipedes have (cats have like nine and apparently the Kardashians have an unending supply - kinda makes you wonder doesn't it?) anyway I dumped another cup of water down the sink.  He came back moments later.

About that time, the Hubs comes in and I tell him to watch out, as clearly we have a situation brewing.  He says, “yea right” and dumps a third glass of water on Theodore. Anything that comes back from the dead that many times needs a name, right? The Hubs doesn’t have much respect for undead bugs. **sigh** I'm working on it people. 

So we don’t see Theodore for a quite a while and I assume that means he was just really good at holding his breath.  We continue to get ready and a good fifteen minutes later, he reappears.  And he looks ticked.  I mean, we have tried to kill him three times that would anger anyone.  His little antenna was flicking in a very threatening manner. Also, I swore I heard him complain about Laurie from the Walking Dead being a whiner.  Which is kinda true. 

Here's my artistic rendition:  Also as a side note, finding a picture of a millipede kinda grossed me out.  Those things are freaky.  Even before being all dead and bitey!

Then it dawns on me.  Clearly he’s a zombie.  It’s so obvious. And once again, I had to save humanity and cut his head off.  I’m like the Van Helsing of modern times – with better hair. I totally should get paid for this stuff.

I also came to another conclusion. My house is some sort of vortex for undead bugs.  I suppose that means that I should sharpen the swords, polish the leather boots and make me some wooden daggers.  All I’m saying, is this better not cut into my Hunger Games reading time.  You know, those games would have been really crazy if there were some undead bug roaming around.  Just sayin’.

Busy saving humanity....

Sorry I haven’t blogged in a while.  I’ve been busy battling undead things.  Yea.  Like in the movies.  Except less bad acting and no leather thigh high boots.

I was in the shower the other morning and I saw a spider.  I hate them almost as much as millipedes.  This was the biggest spider ever.  Like big from that really bad syfy movie with all the pretty people and bad acting where they fight alien bugs.  You know the one - Neil Patrick Harris is like a General or something and Denise Richards almost gets eaten by a huge brain sucking grub-worm looking bug (I think there could be a Charlie Sheen joke in here... but I can't do everything for your people!). Can’t remember it, but this spider made those look like babies. *****UPDATE***** Ok. Maybe it wasn’t quite that big, but it was ginormous.  It looked something like this…..

So with my cat-like reflexes and nerves of steel, I drowned the spider and watched as his lifeless body slowly slid behind one of the thousand shampoo bottles in my shower.  I finish the shower. Yea. It’s how I roll…  I’m like a robotic, professional hitman that way… bug death doesn’t affect me. 

But as I’m shaving my legs, I accidentally knick my ankle. (Definitely a typical day).  And as I’m checking out my injury, a little bit of blood drips to the shower floor.  At that VERY moment, the dead spider (or so I though) washes down to the drop of blood.

Life preserving measures took effect and I immediately recognized it as a vampire spider.  I didn’t take a photo because… well I was in the shower and that’s just weird… but it looked something like this….

FYI: Those would be bloody fangs.  Cuz, you know... the whole vampire thing.

At not even 6 am!  Yea! I know.  I’m sure there is some reasonable explanation about the transformation.  I mean.  I thought I understood the whole vampire rules thing, but now they are shimmering, mixing with werewolves and walkin’ in the sun… I just don’t know anymore. 

So to save myself and all humanity, I beheaded it and finished my shower.  As you know... beheading is the end all be all of killing the undead - everybody knows that - beheading... always go with beheading.  But, yea. I got mad vampire spider slayin’ skillz yo!

So friends, that’s why I’ve been lapse in blogging THIS week.  Someone has to keep you people safe.

***Starship Troopers!  That’s the movie!  Thanks bad syfy movie lovin friend!

It started in Kindergarten!

Here’s more confirmation that my insanity started at a young age.

When I was five years old.  I wanted a new bike for my birthday.  I had it picked out.  It was a “big girl” bike complete with gears, a basket and those tassel things for the handle bars.  It may or may not have had a big flag.  I’ll never tell. It was blue and green and was completely and totally awesome.

So my mom, knowing me by that point (shut up… I was adorable), said that if I went to my first day of kindergarten without crying that she would get me THE bike.

Now what you have to understand, and I learned this over the next several years (and this does explain a lot), while I was an only child, I was… brace yourself… a summer birthday.  Yes.  It’s true.  While all the other kids got to celebrate their birthdays with cupcakes and treats in the classroom, I had to do a “group” party with all the other summer birthdays.  It totally sucked.  Totally.

So it just so happened that the first day of school was right after my birthday.  Therefore my mom… thinking it wise… used bribery to get me to behave.

For weeks heading into my first day of kindergarten, I got new school supplies, new clothes and new tennis shoes. This was gonna be great.  It’s totally all about me! My mom and grandma spent weeks building up this “kindergarten gig”.  So when the time came I was like pretty psyched. 

So dressed in my new clothes and shoes, I walked into this room with lots of other kids.  They were running amok.  I am an only child who hung out with only adults.  These other kids were loud.  And running around.  I instantly didn’t like it.

The teacher greeted me and my mom and showed me my cubby.  And where the carpeted kitchen/reading area was.  And while this was all fine and dandy.  I couldn’t imagine where my mom was planning on sitting.  I mean.  All the tables were small and there were only a few adults still in the room.

Then the realization hit me.  She was planning on leaving me with these kids.  Seriously? These kids were loud.  And rowdy.  And probably germy (yes.  that started early too... shut up!).  I already knew how to tie my shoe, my alphabet and to count to 40.  I certainly didn’t need to learn anything else. 

Then the first sniffling cry fell on the room.  A mom was sneaking out, leaving her wailing snotty kid behind.  Then another, then another. What would possess my mom to leave me here?  I couldn’t see a benefit at all.  I mean… now, I’m terrified.

Then, she looked at me and said.  Don’t forget, no crying or you won’t get your bike.  Well, if I had no other reason to cry, then that was it.  I bawled like a baby. Along with every other kid in the room.  Except that one kid that ate glue.  Anyway. Now that I have children of my own, I can feel for the teacher.  Although my kids all ran into the room and never looked back at me.  What the heck!!?

But for me at age five.  It was terrifying and horrible.  I don’t remember much else from the day.  Clearly I lived and somehow managed to make it through grade school, high school and college.  So apparently I “like” education.  Yet oddly enough... not a fan of loud kids and germs ... still. 

By the way.  I totally rocked that bike.  Which I got despite crying.  It’s no wonder I’m totally spoiled!

Such a loser!!!!

I know, I know.  I’ve been a total loser and haven’t blogged in like forever.  I could tell you that I started a new exercise program which has left me completely drained.  I could tell you that we have had a computer malfunction (not to be confused with a wardrobe malfunction…. Totally not the same thing) or I could tell you that I’ve had bloggers block.  All would be true, but it basically boils down to I’ve been lazy.  You wanna know the best part about having your own blog… yea… you can blog when you want.  So there you have it.  I’ll quit being so losery and do better.  Promise.  Now… on with the wonderful crap written word.

When my alarm went off this morning at the dreadful hour of 6:00 am, the first thought that ran through my mind was “you have got to be kiddin me!”.  Followed immediately by… “is there anyway I could be sick?”.  A quick self-evaluation proved that not the case.  So then I thought “If I don’t put in my contacts, I could stay in bed like three more minutes” and “I wonder how important promptness is to my job”.  Then I decided to quit being a jerk and get up.  But…. I didn’t like it. 

Despite my first thoughts of lying to stay in my warm bed, I got ready in record time and was on the road like five whole minutes early.  See … that whole no contact thing works.  I can’t see the clock, but I’m sure I’m early.

Anyway, my mornings are always rushed.  And the 25 minute drive in to work usually consists of me making sure I’ve done all the necessary things in preparation for work.  The important things like… have my phone.  Put on lipstick.  My shoes match… well, you get the idea.  This morning was no different.  And as I’m sitting at a traffic light, I realize with horror, that I’ve forgotten deodorant.  Well… that stinks. Literally…. (hahah! Get it… stinks.  Ok.  moving on with less 3^rd grade humor.)

No need to panic, my second daughter (who refuses to carry a purse), leaves all kinds of things in my car and I’m positive I’d seen deodorant floating around.  Along with two gloves (neither match and their mate is missing), window scrapers, Tylenol, straw wrappers and a container of grapes (don’t ask).  I know, I know… my car may have the appearance of hotness… but simmer down.  Its all mine!

So the next light I’m digging for the deodorant and not finding it when the guy behind me honks.  Yes.  Honks because he/she has had to wait three nanoseconds at a green light.  Its not like we were three cars back and the car in front of me just started moving and really…how is gaining that second gonna get you there quicker? Whatev!!!!  So I politely wave at them.  No.. not the middle birdy wave, but a “yea. I see you, you impatient  tool … I’m moving… chill out” wave.

About two miles down the road she passes me and slows down to glare before zipping in front of me.  Wow. Mature! So I wave again.  Cuz that’s the polite thing to do, right? 

Just a bit later I catch her at the stoplight. ((it should be pointed out that she made up NO time with her impatience... just saying) She’s in the lane beside me… her anger of my irresponsibility is long gone, because she’s searching for her lighter in her purse.  At the green light.  Four cars behind her… none are happy. And one honked Yea. 

So that’s my story for today. I made it to work early.  And have deodorant in my desk – at least I hope it was deodorant… cuz I can’t see anything. 

Why I'm always tired... -or- Why I should not be left alone to care for the children

Until now, most of my blogs have been about my current crazy life.  However in looking back, it appears I’ve always been a tad crazy unique whatever.

So I thought you would like to hear a story from several years ago.  And it’s not so much that you would like it as much as it’s my blog. So ha!

My little one was about two years old at the time.  She was in a front facing car seat.  And by "in" I mean when she chose to stay "in" it.  She had become quite the escape artist. No joke, I had to pull the car over numerous times to wrangle her back into the seat. 

So one morning I had to take her to the babysitter and the dog had an appointment at the groomer.  So I put the dog in the car.  The Scottish terrier did not like anyone or anything, but he did appreciate a good car ride.  He would jump between the front and back seats and the side windows checking out the view.  Leaving nose prints on the windows.  Yea...That’s how I roll.

I get Stinker buckled into her car seat and it looks like we are good to go.  Then I realize I had forgotten something in the house.  I am quite certain I growled, but jumped out to retrieve said item, and yes... you guessed it. I somehow locked the keys in the car.  With baby and dog in the car.

Now the weather was not cold or hot, and we were in the garage.  The car was not running, so there was no imminent danger. As a matter of fact Stinker was thrilled to be in the car with the dog... she was smiling and pointing to him, laughing. Not unhappy or scared. The dog was happy... he was going for a ride. Front of the car, back of the car. Front of the car, back of the car. Left, right, left, right... he was thrilled.  Apparently I was the only unhappy person. 

So the Hub was about twenty or so minutes away, and once I had him headed to the rescue, I decided that perhaps the dog’s hypernes could help me. I’m like a domestic MacGyver that way.  So I tried to persuade him to jump to my window thinking he would step on the unlock button.  Yea.  He didn't understand why I wasn't in the car with him.  After two minutes of me calling him, clapping my hands and tapping the window he decided this was not gonna work for him and he curled up in the back seat to pout.  So now he was ticked at me. Great!  Hub was not happy and now the dog is ticked.  Oh… and I’m not happy!  GREAT morning!

Well, Houdini junior was in the back seat, still smiling and waving at me….my antics with the dog had been super entertaining for her. In another MacGyver moment of genius, I think that maybe I could get her to wiggle out of her car seat and unlock a door.  The child had escaped almost daily for a week... this should be no problem. Yea.  Sure… nothing wrong with this theory.

So I’m talking calmly to her telling her to get out of her seat. I’m using my baby voice and wiggling my shoulders as a demonstration to mimicking her escape. She finds this hilarious.  I'm pointing to the button saying "push the button, push the button, honey" and she shows me her belly button.  Ok, cute but ineffective. She's giggling and laughing but NOT getting out of the car seat. Sure.  Going 70 down the highway she can worm out and hug my neck, but no... When I need her to help me out she's behaved.

At one point a neighbor drove by to stare at me hopping around in the garage, talking to a seemingly empty car. “Move along, nothing to see here”. Its no wonder our neighbors don't talk to us.

The end of the story is that the Hub came and unlocked the door. The dog was happy on the car ride, but very disappointed to find himself at the groomer. Turns out he's a wall hugger.  And Stinker wormed her way out of the car seat before we got out of the neighborhood.  It’s no wonder I’m exhausted.

Fail to plan or plan to fail... or some crap

So a really good friend and I went to the opening night of the new Underworld movie. For weeks, we have looked forward to this movie.  Having seen the pervious movies several times, believing that we too could be ultimate vampire hunters, and wishfully thinking we can fit into all that black leather, the day could not have come quick enough.  My friend picked the theater with the big screen.  After having experienced this theater, during a recent Twilight fiasco that left us sitting on the front row. Where I got motion sick. Twice.  I was understandably cautious. So, I knew we needed a strategy. 

See, I am a bit, somewhat, a lot OCD, and like to go into a situation with a plan. Much like Selene, (and the boy scouts) I am always prepared.

I like having the who, what, when, where and how lined out so that there are no surprises (like sitting on the front row with the 20 year old girl talking NONSTOP during the movie, and crying when Bella “dies” Seriously, there’s another movie!  Did you NOT read the book??)  Ok.  So. I wanted to see Selena on my terms. Which was NOT the front row with the slobbering chick.

So, convinced that we needed to get to the theater early and wait in line for seats, the drive to the theater consisted of me planning our seating strategy.  When you fail to plan, you plan to fail.  I was ready.  I shared the Twilight puke fest with my friend, and rolled up my sleeves.

We get there and I ask the attendant how many tickets had been sold for our movie.  She looks and says.  “I’ve sold 7”.  What?!?! NO WAY!  Well, clearly the people seeing this movie on opening night are superior and have gotten their tickets online or at the kiosk.  OR used a different attendant.  Or perhaps this attendant is lying, not knowing about the Twilight craziness. 

I was deterred but not fooled.  I continued the original plan.  My friend wanted to go eat.  A hurdle…Ok.  Well if we hurry, we can do that, but we gotta hurry.  Of course we were running later than I wanted, so I had to reassess the insanity plan of action.

On the drive back to the theater, I am in strategy mode.  If I were five, I would have ran into the theater, knocking people down and grabbed the first available seat then demanded popcorn. But people frown upon an adult woman running around like a five year old, so I had to be mature.  Dang it!  So being a great planner (read: OCD)  I mapped out the best route:  We would go get our seats then take turns getting snacks. 

By the time we got to the theater, my friend was feeling my anxiety and was agreeing to my crazy plan.  Apparently crazy is contagious.  Or it’s a lot like Stockholm syndrome without the whole kidnap and torture thing.  She was all jittery and ready to knock out (in a Selene like fashion) anyone who got in our way.

I distinctly remember thinking and possibly saying over and over “I can’t sit up front… I just can’t” as we literally raced to the theater, opened the door, rushed down the aisle.  Totally prepared to threaten teenagers to give up their seats or fake an Lycan emergency, we looked up and found….

A theater filled with twenty people.  Yea.  Turns out, all the Underworld fans went to another theater.

So, we’ll chalk this one up to the egocentric, obsessive compulsive!  Yea.  My poor friend will never go to another movie opening with me again.

The perfect storm. Not just about bad weather conditions!

So there’s a chance that I have short term memory loss.  No really.  I can’t remember anything anymore.  But that’s not the big problem.  Along with my well documented ADD and my secret procrastination this short term memory loss (or STML, as the cool chicks say) is like the perfect storm of insanity. Three ailments you do not want to have in tandem is STML, ADD and procrastination.  Because what happens is you postpone things, get distracted, then forget about them.  This is why my Pulitzer prize winning novel has yet to be written…. Well, not the only reason, but it contributes! 

So given my sad mental state, I’ve taken to using sticky notes every time I need to remember things.  They are stuck everywhere.  I write down things like refill a prescription, send an email on that project at work, pick up kids, never go out on black Friday.  Clearly the post it notes are not a fail-safe.  I also have taken to using my cell phone to make to do lists and write down ideas that I want to blog about.  My notes section of my phone will have little phrases or ideas that don’t really go anywhere, but I fear if left in my head… will disappear.

So after last weeks’ phone incident, I’ve been trying to remember some of the ideas I had lost.  And some of my best thinkin’ time is when I drive.  Who needs to worry about traffic and road conditions when I’m thinking of blogging, vampires and wondering who sings that song on the radio.  However, a recent conversation with my daughter revealed that I am not a good driver when texting.  Something about “all over the road and driving five miles an hour”.  Whateve… hater.  But in an effort to set good example, I’m trying to NOT text and drive.  Basically I don’t want to be THE reason they change the law from teens who text and drive to adults who text and driving.

Fast forward to today. In an effort to be all “safe” and crap, new phone in hand, driving home, I heard a song that I need those teenagers to download to my Ipod.  While at a stop light, I bring up my “notes” app and hit the voice recognition button.  At this point, I am completely convinced that my new phone will not give me the problems that the lase one did.  (see here) Into the phone I speak “THREE DAYS GRACE - BREAK” (and no, I didn’t YELL it) and after what seems like three days (ha, get it... three days), the phone shows “crab grass”.  Yes.  Crab grass.  I’m no music expert, but I’m pretty sure Three Days Grace does not have a song called crab grass.  Although it might be kinda cool….

Then I realize that it would be a great blog topic… this whole STML and the new phone.  At the next stop light (yes, at a stop light) I enter a new “note” and say “crab grass”.  Yea.  It didn’t even recognize the phrase. The phrase it just typed for me.  It just gave me the circle of death “thinking” mode.  Then came up empty.

And so it begins... again.  The love/hate relationship with voice recognition. I had such high hopes for the new phone with its fancy new technology. So sad. Wanna know how I managed to remember the story, given my recently discovered disability?  Yea… I was like two minutes from the house and I repeated it in my head like 10 times and nothing new and shiny came into my line of vision.    

Do you think I can get meds for this? Do you think a doctor would even talk to me?

Why I can start all over with Angry Birds...

Good news: I get to start all over with Angry Birds.  Bad News: I lost about three hours of my life....

So this year I went Black Friday shopping.  Which isn’t really accurate because I went on Thursday night… so technically it wasn’t Friday… although it felt very “black”.  Anyway, normally I would never-ever-ever-never participate in the weirdness.  I mean, Wal-Mart is crazy enough on a normal day let alone on a day that people use pepper spray to get sale items. But there was a gift that we needed and it was really a good sale.  Plus I do love a challenge, need blogging material, so Bugz and I trudged out at 9:45 to Wal-Mart in search of the item. 

Thinking we needed caffeine to make it through the madness (caffeine being a proven deterrent for being trampled), we drove to the local McDonalds only to find that it was not open.  Seriously. Wasn’t open.  That stupid clown cashes in on every loose penny available and hasn’t figured out Black Friday shopping is a gold mine! Whateve!

So sans coffee, we tentatively drove to the store where the only description applicable is utter, mass chaos.  We parked two parking lots away and made it to the back of the store with only getting blasted twice. I witnessed not one but two instances where watching piranhas fight over a wildebeest looked civilized.

We finally found the item we were looking for and we had just under two hours to wait for it to go on sale.  It’s kinda like a police stakeout except without a comfortable car, coffee and guns.  Oh… and we were in Wal-Mart.  I won’t go into the boring details; I’ll just give you this: We waited.  In a make-shift “line” that wove through the women’s underwear isle. With a ticket which guaranteed we got the item, but only if we did not leave said “line” – not even for a potty break.  Leo, aka the line Nazi, said he’d give me a break on the potty thing lest I lose my spot and have to forfeit my golden ticket.  Which wasn’t golden or a ticket, unless you count a white piece of typing paper with some numbers on it a ticket.   However, Leo would also not answer my question as to why; if we had a “guarantee” ticket did we have to wait for midnight.  Nor would Leo accept a bribe to let me get the item and go home to my warm bed.  Leo sucked.

Because I’m always optimistic and sunshiny (shut up, I am dangit!), I try to always learn from my experiences and share with you folks.  I am a giver. So here are a few things I learned whilst Black Friday shopping:

·         Just because its 10:00 pm, does not give you the automatic right to wear pajama pants out in public.  No, not even holiday ones with Garfield in a Santa hat. And no spandex granny…Ever!

·         If you are bold enough to get a scooter from the front of the store, at least look like you need it.  Do not hop off, dart down the aisle, grab the last Lego set from spandexed granny, jump back on the scooter and peal out on two wheels to the next sales rack.

·         Just because we wait in line together for two hours does not mean I want to know your life story, what you are purchasing, and why you are purchasing it.  You should also know that we may be line neighbors, but I will not spare you a trampling if you get in my way.

·         Turns out that whole crowd mentality thing… truth.  I could barely control the urge to rush up and start grabbing ugly photo frames when the sales began simply because the other gazillion people were grabbing them. 

·         There is surprisingly little to do while waiting in line in the women’s underwear aisle.  I know, shocking!  And apparently Wal-Mart frowns upon getting a sleeping bag from the camping aisle, a microwave from housewares and making up some popcorn for the wait. Given that attitude, I didn’t even bother asking about the tv, blue ray and a movie. 

·         I believe I could be the pepper spray lady if given the right deal.  No really.  Everyone’s all outraged but probably because she thought of it first. 

·         Its good to have a skinny daughter with you.  She can squeeze through tight spaces and save you some spots in line – or under the aisle if necessary. (don’t ask).

·         And finally, hear me now peeps.  If you drop your smart phone on the concrete floor in Wal-Mart, at midnight on Black Friday.  It will break.  And every time this happens, somewhere a Christmas angel chokes on eggnog.

The good news is that with the new phone, I was able to replay all of the angry birds games!  It almost makes up for losing EVERYTHING else. J

Guess what? I'm going to Hawaii.....ok, maybe not. Stupid morals!

So last week I posted about my on-going struggle with finding blog topics.  I blamed my ADD, my new book series and a new tv show as the reason for this lack of inspiration.  Plus Walking Dead is back on, and it’s so hard to concentrate on blogging when Rick and the gang are running from zombies.  Anyway, turns out none of those things are the demise of my creativity.  Yep.  None. Zero. Zilch. Nada.  Turns out my whole family, fearing being the topic of a post, had basically cut me off from their normal shenanigans.  Yes, friends… it’s true.  They are stifling my creativity. Bunch of phonies! 

Which is actually kinda funny, because I’ll just make up stuff that they say or do… I have to qualms about that. It’s like they don’t know me.  AT. ALL!

But because I am nothing if not devoted to you my fellow readers – all five of you – I have fought through the ADD that is me and pulled this out for you.  This is an email exchange between me and the hubs after a friend posted her vacation pics on facebook.  Or… this could be a total fabrication of my mind.  See, it’s like a murder mystery without death or gratuitous nude scenes. 

Me: I want to go to Hawaii.

Hubs: So go.

Me: I want you to go with me… hello?  And I want to zip line while we are there.  After we helicopter over the volcanoes, go see those dolphins, and attend at least two dinners where those people dance.

Hubs: What people?

Me: The dancers.  You know, the barefeet, flower necklaces…. The dancers.

Hubs: You mean hula dancers?

Me: Yea. that’s it.  I want to be entertained while eating weird food.  Hula dancers.  Wait.  Is that the proper term? That’s not derogatory is it?  Maybe its hula peoples?  Hula folk? Anyway, that’s what I want to see.  Done.

Hubs: Well you just figure out where the money comes from and off we go.

Me: Are you opposed to selling yourself for additional income?

Hubs: yes.

Me: Cocaine mule?

Hubs: That’s just rude.

Me: It’s not rude.  I just need to know how badly you want me to go to Hawaii.  Clearly by your response, not very much.

So.  The take-away here is that the Hubs isn’t willing to do anything illegal to get me to Hawaii, I don’t need to observe shenanigans to blog about it, and I really should stop watching so much tv. Oh, and clearly my ADD has now reached need-professional-help level.  Well.  That’s just GGGGGGGGGGGGGGreat!

Another public service.... the more you know...

Halloween is just around the corner, and this is THE best tv watchin time of the year.  Oh, yes... the Christmas holidays always have great heart warming shows, and I do love the new fall season.  However, this is the season of horror movies.  And lots of them. Good, Bad, Stupid.  Great entertainment.  So I've definitely been enjoying the season. And because I'm nothing if not observant (shut up!), I've discovered their secret.  Oh... men have searched for it for years, and I... I have found it.

The secret to all horror movies.

Yes, indeed I have found the secret to all horror movies.  It doesn’t matter the circumstance or the evil foe.  It doesn’t matter location or solution needed.  Vampires, Zombies, Werewolves, Evil Entities, Haunted Houses, Aliens you name it. They all have one common denominator. 

Stupid people.

You have to have a stupid person (or two) in every movie.  You have to have the stupid person to go back into the house.  You have to have the stupid person to try to rescue others.  You have to have the stupid person who says things like “It’s gonna be ok.  All we need to do is wait right here.” Or “It’s just a little bite” or my personal favorite “I don’t think they want to hurt us, let’s just go see what they want.”

So I’ve come up with a top 10 list of things that will help the stupid survive: 

1.       If that old house you just moved into tells you to leave.  Seriously, leave.  Nothing good will come from a talking house. Ever. 

2.       The dude covered in blood is probably the killer.  So don’t trust him.  Especially if he has crazy eyes.

3.       If your buddy comes back with any bite marks.  Yea, he’s gonna turn into something.  Vampire, zombie, werewolf… you the idea.  Probably shouldn’t hang with him.

4.       When all your friends have disappeared, don’t go looking for them.  You are the next victim… seriously, get out a Dodge!

5.       If the creepy neighbor seems weird to you.  He is.  Keep away!  And never “invite” him over…. Seriously, find a non-creepy friend!

6.       If weird stuff is going on in your town, there’s no need to go investigate it.  Really, curiosity didn’t kill the complacent, couch potato cat. It killed the nosey, busy-body cat.

7.       Get a real weapon.  Knives, swords, guns.  And always go for the head.  Beheading kills most scary movie villains.  Think about it.  Vampires, werewolves, zombies… yep... can’t hurt you with no head.  I bet Jason, Freddy and Michael wouldn’t have made a billion sequels with no head.  Just sayin’.

8.       If any animals go all crazy on you, remember they are still animals.  Sharks can’t live on land no matter how smart they are.  Hello? Common sense… don’t get in the water! For further advice on animals, read this post.

9.       Don’t be slutty.  The slutty girls always get killed first.  Fact.

10.   Don’t be stupid.  Seriously, it IS that simple.

So now if you ever find yourself in a scary movie, you will not be one of the early casualties.  More face time!