Baby One Less Time

Andy went to a Britney Spears concert last night.

I'll give you a moment to recover from your laughter.




Yes, he attended the Britney show because his work had suite tickets and invited a select few that were involved in the recruiting process. It was a good opportunity to network amongst his coworkers so he went.

Somewhat unwillingly, but he went.

His review this morning as he was waking up:

"I can't believe I went to a concert where not a single instrument was played."

I think that pretty well sums it up. He also offered a review of the show's opener, some guy from Jersey Show who is also a DJ.

"He would yell, "DJ PAULY D!!!!!" and then pump his fist and then girls would scream and ugh. . . I just . . . I just hate people."

My husband the official concert reviewer.

A Confession

I have an embarassing confession to make.

I have a very bad habit. A habit I've had at least since college.

I sing songs w/my made up lyrics in place of the real ones.

All. Day. Long.

I also do not have a good singing voice, but thankfully Andy doesn't mind. He even joins in sometimes.

Now, this might not seem that ridiculous to you.

Sometimes the silly will focus itself on my friends. For example, we're going to visit my friend Kerri in VA in a few days so obviously "Going to the Chapel" turned into:

Going to Virginia and we're
Gonna see Keeeeeeerri
Gee I really miss her but now I'm
Gonna see Keeeeeerrri

And so on and so forth.

And on my friend Kara's 30th Birthday it's quite obvious that "Gin and Juice" had to become "Orange Hurricane."

With so much drama in the DLG
It's kinda hard being Kara and turning thirty
But she, somehow someway
Keeps looking 10 years younger like every single day

I sang more after that, but it's more insde jokes about her dog Gus in the living room eating a Kong and how he ain't quittin' till 6 in the mornin'. It ended with us rolling down her street and sipping Orange Hurricane (Booooone's Faaaaaarm) with my mind on her birthday and her birthday on my mind.

But, it seems my creativity has been lax and I've settled on using two certain guys for most of my lyrics.



So a great deal of the time when I'm engaged in cooking, cleaning or wandering about I'll be singing about my dogs.

For example, "My Humps" easily becomes "My Head."

Whatcha gonna do with all that head?
All that head on top yo' neck?
I'm a melt, melt, melt, melt yo' face
Melt your face with my big head
My head, my head, my head
My big ol' Toby head

G-Bear (Gordie's nickname) easily falls into the spot the word "DJ" would ever occupy.

So baby tonight
The G-Bear got me rubbing bellies again
So scratch, scratch like it's the last, last bear of your life, life
Gon' pet you right

And now you know why this is a bad (and lame and sad and ridiculous) habit.

And something worthy of a confession.

Of Mice and Boys

The scene: It's a rainy Saturday afternoon. I'm in the living room, playing on the computer. Andy is tidying up in the kitchen/eating area.

Andy: OH MY GOD - Honey, there's a mouse in here!

Me: What??!!? Gross!!!

Andy: Come look!

Me: NO!! Do something with it!

Andy: I don't know what to do with it!

Me: Put it in a box or something! Grab the tupperware on the counter!

Andy: Ok

Andy proceeds to grab Tupperware while I continue to refuse to look as he traps the mouse in.

Andy: I don't know it might be dead or something.

Me: Ewww!

With the implication that it might be dead, I turned to look. And this is what I saw:



Andy: Ha, ha, ha, PRANKS! Yeah, that was a good one. High five?

*sigh*

Boys.

How Doddering Am I Part III

Welp, this will be the final round in determing how much of a grandma I am. Round 1 and Round 2 have left me with a current score of 5/20. Unless something goes terribly wrong here, I think I may make it out of this with a few scraps of my youth in tact.

21. Joining the National Trust.

My internets searching skills have led me to find that this is a British organization that takes care of the outdoors. Since I like wood(s), I think I have to give myself a check for this one.

22. Becoming a parish councillor.

First, what up with your spelling, Brits? Second, unless all photographic evidence of my college years is destroyed, I will never be voted into public office.

23. Complaining about the rubbish on television these days.

It's called stating the GD facts, not complaining.

24. Ears growing bigger.

I haven't been keeping accurate measurements of my ears, but I'm going with a no here.

25. Preferring a Sunday walk to a lie-in.

I do enjoy walks with the brudders. And I'm not lie-in. Ba-dum, ching!

26. Being shocked by racy music videos.

Do they still make music videos?

27. Going on a 'no children' cruise.

Cruise = booze and that's no place for babies.

28. Taking a keen interest in the garden.

I'll take a keen interest the same day it stops being so boring. Which is never.

29. Enjoy being asked for proof of age.

Well, kind of.

30. Knowing your alcohol limit.

I know my alcohol limit. We've met once or twice before.

That's the last question, and the survey says:

source

11 in favor of crantankerous and 19 in favor of hipness.

Although I'm still 1/3 doddering, I'll take that as a win.

Biking Woes

The Good News: I successfully biked to work this morning.

The Bad News: I totally forgot to pack my regular bra to change into.

The Good News: I'm fairly flat chested so you can't even tell I'm wearing my sports bra.

The Bad News: I'm fairly flat chested so you can't even tell I'm wearing my sports bra.

Ignorance is Bliss

Note to self: Stop reading articles about people hiking.

Note to hikers: Stop dying.

As Andy and I gear up to hike the Teton Crest Trail and then hike around Yellowstone, I've been encountering far too many unfortunate news stories involving hikers. What these stories seem to tell me is: If you visit a National Park, you will die.

Let's examine, shall we?

Drowning Deaths



In Yosemite, 3 hikers went over Vernal Falls and died. Now, you'd think this would be my number one concern, because I'm somewhat anxious around water already. However, I do not ignore signs that tell me "Stay the hell out of the water" as these three individuals did. So, as long as don't lose my brain or ability to read along the trail, I think I'll be okay.

Death by Falling

Just a few short days ago, a woman fell off Half Dome in Yosemite and died. You can read all about my battle with Half Dome and find that when something scares me, I stop doing whatever it is that is scaring me. So falling doesn't land as my top worry either, because I avoid precarious climbs and cliffs.

Death by Bear

Unfortunately, not all bears are as harmless as the ones on my husband's t-shirts. In Alaska, a grizzly attacked a bunch of teeanagers, but nobody was killed.

Score - someone didn't die!

Oh wait, in Yellowstone, WHERE WE WILL BE HIKING, a grizzly killed a dude. And a little more north another grizzly bit the shit out of some lady, but at least she lived.

And there you have it, my number one worry when hiking.

Bears.

We've encountered bears a time or two whilst hiking and everything has been honky dory. We take literally every precaution against bear attacks when hiking, but bears are unpredictable. And just plain scary.

So, until the news people start reporting how some good news about hikers, I think I'm going to avoid reading any story involving hikers until after our trip.

Because if I don't know about it, then it didn't happen.

Ignorance is bliss.

Old Lady Check-in

I'm still trying to figure out how much of an old hag I am. So, numbers 11-20:

11. Choosing clothes and shoes for comfort rather than style.

HA - I see your oldness and I raise you one higher - I pick clothes that cost less than $20. Frugal for the win!

12. Driving slowly.

Me and my two speeding tickets are proof I do not fall into that category.

13. Developing a fondness for sherry.

I'm not fond of her because we've never met. I am serious and don't call me Shirley!



I sure hope making references to a movie made 30 years ago isn't on the list.

14. Complaining more.

Actually, I think my Mom will agree that me and my picky eating that I started ahead of the curve on complaining. When you're 5 and refuse to eat a donut because your Aunt Kim cut it the wrong way, I'm pretty sure you will only be going down in the complaining category as you age.

15. Joining the Women's Institute.

Sounds smart and boring - I'm out.

16. Misplacing glasses/bag/car keys.

I don't misplace them. Gordie obviously hides them when I'm not looking becuase he thinks it's funny.

17. Thinking work colleagues are getting younger.

Nope, I'm still the spring chicken at my work thankfully.

18. Listening to the Archers.

I enjoy Archer.



19. Moving from Radio One to Radio Two.

I love 90's on 9.

20. Taking a mid-afternoon nap.

Show me a person who doesn't want to take an afternoon nap and I'll show you a BIG FAT LIAR.

I'm still young scoring 5/20 so far. Hopefully the last 10 questions are kind to me and I might be able to convince my friends that I'm still cool even if I go to bed at 9 pm.

Number One Ladies Detective Agency

I woke up to a mystery this morning.



Now, I may not keep the most tidy home, but I'm certain I didn't leave some white cardboard and foil in the middle of the room.



And that foil looks to be licked clean. I guess I should check what I left on the counter last night.



Hmmm. Lots of crumbs, leftover cooking utensils, and there's the top to a Velveeta . . .



. . . but I don't see the bottom, the foil that encased it or the HALF A BLOCK of cheese that was left in it.

I can put these clues together.

Professor Toby in the kitchen with a hungry belly.

You see, I give Toby glucosamine pills for his clumsy joints. I have to put these in Velveeta to get him to eat them every day. And that was the last thing I did before I went to bed last night. And I must have been too sleepy - you know since it was the unGodly hour of 8:45 pm - to put the cheese away.

I guess Toby decided he didn't have enough of that delicious pill coating. Understandable motive, because Velveeta is processed cheese-like substance at it's best.

Mystery solved.

Alarm Clock

Often on a Saturday or Sunday morning, I need to wake Andy up so we can go on a long run.

Andy is not exactly a morning person.

Since I don't want him to divorce me, I often send Toby to do my dirty work.




Please ignore the following in the above clip: My stupid voice, my messy home and my undecorated rooms. We spend money on booze and travel, not throw pillows and art work.

You may notice that Toby does not have enough athletic prowess to get into the bed himself. After I help him up, he proudly enjoyed his time with Dad.





Thus Andy wakes up with a smile on his face and our marriage is still in tact.

You may not be good at many things, Tobias Guy Head, but at least you're a good alarm clock.