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My best work friend is leaving due to some serious workplace drama. She's packing up her desk right now.
No more trusted person to vent to. No more lunches together. No more break room chats.
(sob! sniffle!)
I'll miss you!
It’s no secret that I hate exercise. There are some forms that I hate more or less than others. For example, swimming isn’t so bad. It’s a low-impact, full-body workout, without the side effect of being completely sweaty and stinky when you’re done. Huge bonus. On the flip side, running is absolutely horrid...Go from Point A to Point B, as fast as you can. Hmm...I’ll pass. Honestly, who thinks running is fun? Or even remotely enjoyable? Crazy people, that’s who.
Now you can argue all the fitness and cardiovascular benefits of running until you are blue in the face. I can’t argue that, but I can argue the fact normal people find much better ways to reap all those same benefits without having to actually run. Tell the truth, which is more fun...running, or sweatin’ to the oldies with Richard Simmons? Come on, the guy is hilarious! You can literally laugh your ass off to his workouts! Is running funny? Maybe if you do it in a gorilla suit. Otherwise, no.
Don’t even get me started on marathon runners. Those mofos are the craziest of all. Because you don’t just wake up and decide to run a marathon that day. You have to train for months. Devoting that kind of time to your own torture takes some dedication to your own personal brand of crazy. If you wanted me to run 26.2 miles, you would have to chase me with a chain saw and a mask made of human flesh. And when did marathons become trendy, cool, and hip? Now all these celebrities are doing them too. Most of them are all like, “I just wanted to prove to myself that I could do it”. Yeah, I suppose I could force myself to grab an electric fence, drink a bottle of hot sauce, get my nipples pierced, or kick some puppies, just to see if I could do it...but that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.
If you are a runner, and you’re reading this...seriously, I wasn’t asking for any volunteers when I made that comment about the chain saw and mask of human flesh. SERIOUSLY...weirdo.
I'm a little bit late to the whole "Kings of Leon are so freaking awesome!" party. I mean, I'm here now, but I'm late. (I brought dip in case anyone wants any!)
See, I just bought their current cd a week ago. Which means that I only recently discovered that I have been singing my favorite song by them completely wrong. Silly Kris, the song isn't you set me on fi-ire.
It's actually...
your sex is on fi-ire
Indeed.
Rawr!
Fox heard my wish to finally see the original episode of Glee and replayed it last night.
And I'm already in love. It really didn't take much. Just seeing the audition songs and the national champs singing "Rehab" by Amy Winehouse was enough for me. So by the time they did "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey in the final scene, I was already hooked.
I hope there's a new song in every episode. I can't wait for next week's episode and their version of "Gold Digger" by Kanye West, which you can see here.
I guess that makes me a Gleek!
Watch It!
ETA: I guess somehow I clicked to not allow comments. What's wrong with me today? I LOVE comments!...so feel free now...
So like, where do you think they're registered? I've totally been wanting to get them this crystal vampire fang ashtray that I saw, and now I have the perfect excuse! It's dazzling! (snerk)
Cause this is totally real and not in any way a marketing ploy to sell more magazines, right? US Weekly would never do that to its loyal readers! Thank goodness I have a subscription for the next 2 years, so I can stay informed of all the news and photos of the blessed event!
OMG, something totally just occured to me! Do you think they're (gasp!)...pregnant? Oh, please tell me they're expecting their very ownevil precious little Renesmee!
P.S. Is it possible to gag on/vomit squee?
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Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Noooooo!
My best work friend is leaving due to some serious workplace drama. She's packing up her desk right now.
No more trusted person to vent to. No more lunches together. No more break room chats.
(sob! sniffle!)
I'll miss you!
Cougar-licious
On a recent night out to stuff my face and laugh with some girlfriends, one of my friends remarked that if I wasn't married, I would definitely be a cougar.
I know, you guys are just as shocked as I was, right? Moi? Surely you must be joking!
All because I was saying how I wanted Taylor Lautner and Selena Gomez to have babies together. Lots of gorgeous, brown, dark haired, white-teethed babies.
Wouldn't they make the most beautiful babies ever? Taylor & Selena, I'll totally babysit for you guys!
It's not like I said I had the hotts for him. Ew. No. He's way too young. My celeb crushes have to be at least 20. I'm not a total perv, you guys!
I know, you guys are just as shocked as I was, right? Moi? Surely you must be joking!
All because I was saying how I wanted Taylor Lautner and Selena Gomez to have babies together. Lots of gorgeous, brown, dark haired, white-teethed babies.
Wouldn't they make the most beautiful babies ever? Taylor & Selena, I'll totally babysit for you guys!
It's not like I said I had the hotts for him. Ew. No. He's way too young. My celeb crushes have to be at least 20. I'm not a total perv, you guys!
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Dear Kris of 1992
This post is originally from Stephanie's blog, but my work has it blocked for malicious content (my favorite kind of content!), and then from Karen's blog. So here goes...
Dear Krissy of 1992,
People call you Krissy right now. Later in life, some people will call you Kris, but it's all the same to you.
Now that high school is over, here's what I want you to know...
1. Have fun on the Europe trip in a couple of weeks! It's a once in a lifetime trip, so for pete's sake, keep a journal or something. Write down the names of all the people on the trip with you, because you will forget. When you look back at that group photo in front of the Eiffel Tower, you will only remember you, Nikol, and a bunch of whats-their-faces, which is kind of a bummer. Write down the names of all the castles and cathedrals that you visit too, because even though they all look the same, you might want to go back to one of them one day when you are older. But how can you go back, if you can't remember which ones you visited? Also, don't forget to pack some comfortable walking shoes and remember to tell Nikol that she is awesome. Lemon Sisters for EVAH!
2. Boobs. Quit wishing you had boobs already. One day you're gonna get your wish, and it's not going to be as great as you think. In fact, after you have kids, you're gonna wish you could trade in your National Geographic chest and have that flat one back again. Gravity is not your friend.
3. Boys are dumb. Seriously. All of them. It's not worth bothering with them until they are 25 and develop some sense. But then again, you're kind of dumb too, and you won't listen to me anyway. You'll be madly in love with your best friend and you won't care that you're both dumb, so you'll get married at 22. There are some bumps in the road, and you're complete opposites, but you guys make it work. I cannot stress this enough, the key to your happy marriage is to keep making each other laugh. He quotes the same movies for at least 13 years, and you love it. You laugh hysterically every. single. time. Don't get too busy to hang out and laugh together. By the way, if you think he's hot when you get married, just wait until he's 36! Damn girl, he gets hotter with age!
4. Your mom isn't as dumb as you think she is. She actually knows a lot more about life than you do, so maybe you can cut the attitude and listen to her once in a while. She's pretty awesome, and you'll have a great relationship with her.
5. Kids. This is gonna be a tough one for you...I hate to break it to you, but you're gonna have some trouble with infertility. It will be difficult, frustrating, depressing, and heart breaking. Just try not to be too much of an ass about it. I know you're going to be depressed, and your friends and family are going to want to be supportive, but there are limits. It's gonna take a long time. Get used to the stirrups! This is no time for modesty. You will be surprised at how quickly you get used to your hoo-hah being on display for tons of various doctors and nurses. Don't give up though. God has a wicked sense of humor with you and gives you twins! They are beautiful, healthy, happy, hilarious daughters, and the light of your life, but you definitely won't sleep at all for the first year. Also, see #2.
When you're 35, you still won't have it all figured out, but things will be pretty good. Don't take your friends and family for granted, and take some time for yourself too.
Love,
Kris in 2009
P.S. Invest every penny you can in Microsoft, Apple, or Qualcomm. You'll thank me when you're filthy rich.
P.S.S. There still aren't any flying cars, and we still eat normal food and not those food capsules like on the Jetsons.
Dear Krissy of 1992,
People call you Krissy right now. Later in life, some people will call you Kris, but it's all the same to you.
Now that high school is over, here's what I want you to know...
1. Have fun on the Europe trip in a couple of weeks! It's a once in a lifetime trip, so for pete's sake, keep a journal or something. Write down the names of all the people on the trip with you, because you will forget. When you look back at that group photo in front of the Eiffel Tower, you will only remember you, Nikol, and a bunch of whats-their-faces, which is kind of a bummer. Write down the names of all the castles and cathedrals that you visit too, because even though they all look the same, you might want to go back to one of them one day when you are older. But how can you go back, if you can't remember which ones you visited? Also, don't forget to pack some comfortable walking shoes and remember to tell Nikol that she is awesome. Lemon Sisters for EVAH!
2. Boobs. Quit wishing you had boobs already. One day you're gonna get your wish, and it's not going to be as great as you think. In fact, after you have kids, you're gonna wish you could trade in your National Geographic chest and have that flat one back again. Gravity is not your friend.
3. Boys are dumb. Seriously. All of them. It's not worth bothering with them until they are 25 and develop some sense. But then again, you're kind of dumb too, and you won't listen to me anyway. You'll be madly in love with your best friend and you won't care that you're both dumb, so you'll get married at 22. There are some bumps in the road, and you're complete opposites, but you guys make it work. I cannot stress this enough, the key to your happy marriage is to keep making each other laugh. He quotes the same movies for at least 13 years, and you love it. You laugh hysterically every. single. time. Don't get too busy to hang out and laugh together. By the way, if you think he's hot when you get married, just wait until he's 36! Damn girl, he gets hotter with age!
4. Your mom isn't as dumb as you think she is. She actually knows a lot more about life than you do, so maybe you can cut the attitude and listen to her once in a while. She's pretty awesome, and you'll have a great relationship with her.
5. Kids. This is gonna be a tough one for you...I hate to break it to you, but you're gonna have some trouble with infertility. It will be difficult, frustrating, depressing, and heart breaking. Just try not to be too much of an ass about it. I know you're going to be depressed, and your friends and family are going to want to be supportive, but there are limits. It's gonna take a long time. Get used to the stirrups! This is no time for modesty. You will be surprised at how quickly you get used to your hoo-hah being on display for tons of various doctors and nurses. Don't give up though. God has a wicked sense of humor with you and gives you twins! They are beautiful, healthy, happy, hilarious daughters, and the light of your life, but you definitely won't sleep at all for the first year. Also, see #2.
When you're 35, you still won't have it all figured out, but things will be pretty good. Don't take your friends and family for granted, and take some time for yourself too.
Love,
Kris in 2009
P.S. Invest every penny you can in Microsoft, Apple, or Qualcomm. You'll thank me when you're filthy rich.
P.S.S. There still aren't any flying cars, and we still eat normal food and not those food capsules like on the Jetsons.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Happy Birthday Blog!
Thursday, September 17, 2009
I Dedicate This To You, Kristina
I have felt guilty and the weight of it was just too much...I vowed I would make a post about it, and now I am finally doing it. This entire post is dedicated to you, Kristina. (I feel like we should couples skate or something...No? That's cool.) Ahem. Where was I?
All the way back in June, the hilarious, intelligent and gorgeous, Kristina had a mondo giveaway. You all know Kristina of Pulsipher Predilections, right? Of course! She's the queen of funny blogs. Anyway, I won the giveaway!
I won the cutest, most versatile, feminine, hip earrings from Ann at Beadiful Things.
Aren't they cute? I tried to take a picture of them myself, but it never showed the detail like Ann's picture does. Plus, my earlobes are embarrassingly large and flappy.
Unfortunately, there was a little glitch...you see, right after the giveaway, Ann broke both of her arms and was having surgery! She asked me if I would mind waiting because she wouldn't be able to make them right way. Mind? Honey, you're gonna have enough trouble wiping your own tushie, please don't even worry about the earrings! In keeping with my custom, because I have such a short attention span, I promptly forgot about the earrings, so I was pleasantly surprised when just a couple weeks later, the earrings showed up in my mail! I wear them all the time. They go with everything.
You may ask yourself, "how did she forget to post about the earrings when she wears them all the time"? It's a gift. An exceptional gift for forgetting things. I would remind myself to do it when I put them on in the morning, but if you know me, you know I am not much of a morning person, so by the time I got to my car to head to work, I had already forgotten.
What I have been asking myself is, how could Ann have possibly healed so quickly to make the earrings? Clearly, the answer is that she is a vampire. Or my second choice: Superwoman. Either way, she makes some pretty cool jewelry and I highly recommend her on the basis of her awesomeness.
Thank you Kristina! Thank you Ann! You both rock! My sincere apologies for not posting about the giveaway and the earrings sooner.
All the way back in June, the hilarious, intelligent and gorgeous, Kristina had a mondo giveaway. You all know Kristina of Pulsipher Predilections, right? Of course! She's the queen of funny blogs. Anyway, I won the giveaway!
I won the cutest, most versatile, feminine, hip earrings from Ann at Beadiful Things.
Aren't they cute? I tried to take a picture of them myself, but it never showed the detail like Ann's picture does. Plus, my earlobes are embarrassingly large and flappy.
Unfortunately, there was a little glitch...you see, right after the giveaway, Ann broke both of her arms and was having surgery! She asked me if I would mind waiting because she wouldn't be able to make them right way. Mind? Honey, you're gonna have enough trouble wiping your own tushie, please don't even worry about the earrings! In keeping with my custom, because I have such a short attention span, I promptly forgot about the earrings, so I was pleasantly surprised when just a couple weeks later, the earrings showed up in my mail! I wear them all the time. They go with everything.
You may ask yourself, "how did she forget to post about the earrings when she wears them all the time"? It's a gift. An exceptional gift for forgetting things. I would remind myself to do it when I put them on in the morning, but if you know me, you know I am not much of a morning person, so by the time I got to my car to head to work, I had already forgotten.
What I have been asking myself is, how could Ann have possibly healed so quickly to make the earrings? Clearly, the answer is that she is a vampire. Or my second choice: Superwoman. Either way, she makes some pretty cool jewelry and I highly recommend her on the basis of her awesomeness.
Thank you Kristina! Thank you Ann! You both rock! My sincere apologies for not posting about the giveaway and the earrings sooner.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
How To Finish Your Christmas Shopping All At Once
Monday, September 14, 2009
Just Say No To Running
It’s no secret that I hate exercise. There are some forms that I hate more or less than others. For example, swimming isn’t so bad. It’s a low-impact, full-body workout, without the side effect of being completely sweaty and stinky when you’re done. Huge bonus. On the flip side, running is absolutely horrid...Go from Point A to Point B, as fast as you can. Hmm...I’ll pass. Honestly, who thinks running is fun? Or even remotely enjoyable? Crazy people, that’s who.
Now you can argue all the fitness and cardiovascular benefits of running until you are blue in the face. I can’t argue that, but I can argue the fact normal people find much better ways to reap all those same benefits without having to actually run. Tell the truth, which is more fun...running, or sweatin’ to the oldies with Richard Simmons? Come on, the guy is hilarious! You can literally laugh your ass off to his workouts! Is running funny? Maybe if you do it in a gorilla suit. Otherwise, no.
Don’t even get me started on marathon runners. Those mofos are the craziest of all. Because you don’t just wake up and decide to run a marathon that day. You have to train for months. Devoting that kind of time to your own torture takes some dedication to your own personal brand of crazy. If you wanted me to run 26.2 miles, you would have to chase me with a chain saw and a mask made of human flesh. And when did marathons become trendy, cool, and hip? Now all these celebrities are doing them too. Most of them are all like, “I just wanted to prove to myself that I could do it”. Yeah, I suppose I could force myself to grab an electric fence, drink a bottle of hot sauce, get my nipples pierced, or kick some puppies, just to see if I could do it...but that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.
If you are a runner, and you’re reading this...seriously, I wasn’t asking for any volunteers when I made that comment about the chain saw and mask of human flesh. SERIOUSLY...weirdo.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Dear Husband, You Are BUSTED!
Here's how my husband got in big trouble yesterday when he wasn't even around:
So he's gone on business for a week and I was picking up the kids after work. We had this conversation in the car on the way home...
Me: What do you want for dinner tonight?
Twin 1: I don't know, sweet cheeks!
Me: Sweet cheeks? Where'd you hear that?
Both twins: Daddy! He said it on the phone!
Me: To who? (fuming. Flames coming out of the side of my face.)
Both twins: To his friend.
Me: WHO?
Both twins: I don't know. A girl.
Since I know we don't use that expression with each other, Ifuriously calmly call my husband's cell. No answer. Then I text him, asking if he can explain why our children are calling me sweet cheeks and saying they heard him say it to his girlfriend on the phone.
When he calls back we have this conversation:
Me: Hello?
Husband: Sweetcheeksbananamuffinhottub
Me: What?
Husband: Sweet cheeks banana muffin hot tub.
Me: Huh?
Husband: You know, from the Jack in the Box commercials?
Me: Oh. Yeah, I guess.
Husband: Yeah, well that radio commercial came on in the car when I was driving the kids to preschool, and while I was on the phone with Aaron (male best friend since childhood - sounds just like Auntie Erin, female), I said it to him and the kids thought it was funny.
Me: Dude, you're so lucky.
Nice save, husband. Nice save. You may live to see another day.
So he's gone on business for a week and I was picking up the kids after work. We had this conversation in the car on the way home...
Me: What do you want for dinner tonight?
Twin 1: I don't know, sweet cheeks!
Me: Sweet cheeks? Where'd you hear that?
Both twins: Daddy! He said it on the phone!
Me: To who? (fuming. Flames coming out of the side of my face.)
Both twins: To his friend.
Me: WHO?
Both twins: I don't know. A girl.
Since I know we don't use that expression with each other, I
When he calls back we have this conversation:
Me: Hello?
Husband: Sweetcheeksbananamuffinhottub
Me: What?
Husband: Sweet cheeks banana muffin hot tub.
Me: Huh?
Husband: You know, from the Jack in the Box commercials?
Me: Oh. Yeah, I guess.
Husband: Yeah, well that radio commercial came on in the car when I was driving the kids to preschool, and while I was on the phone with Aaron (male best friend since childhood - sounds just like Auntie Erin, female), I said it to him and the kids thought it was funny.
Me: Dude, you're so lucky.
Nice save, husband. Nice save. You may live to see another day.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Now You Know
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My neighbor is a 70-something year old man that started living as a woman once his wife died about three or four years ago. I freaked one morning when I saw his wife pulling trash cans out to the curb on our suburban street. I thought she had passed away! Then she turned around and I realized it was just him in a wig, pearls, and pumps.
Now I know how to address letters to him....if only I knew his/her name.
DEAR ABBY: What is the proper letter salutation for a married couple where the husband has recently undergone gender reassignment surgery? (They were "John and Millie Jones.") -- WONDERING IN KEY WEST--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
DEAR WONDERING: Because the husband is no longer John Jones and is now "Linda," for example, I would address the envelope to Ms. Linda Jones and Ms. Millie Jones -- placing their names in alphabetical order. And in the salutation I would write, "Dear Linda and Millie."
My neighbor is a 70-something year old man that started living as a woman once his wife died about three or four years ago. I freaked one morning when I saw his wife pulling trash cans out to the curb on our suburban street. I thought she had passed away! Then she turned around and I realized it was just him in a wig, pearls, and pumps.
Now I know how to address letters to him....if only I knew his/her name.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Kings of Leon
I'm a little bit late to the whole "Kings of Leon are so freaking awesome!" party. I mean, I'm here now, but I'm late. (I brought dip in case anyone wants any!)
See, I just bought their current cd a week ago. Which means that I only recently discovered that I have been singing my favorite song by them completely wrong. Silly Kris, the song isn't you set me on fi-ire.
It's actually...
your sex is on fi-ire
Indeed.
Rawr!
Thursday, September 3, 2009
It's Official! I'm In Love With Glee!
Fox heard my wish to finally see the original episode of Glee and replayed it last night.
And I'm already in love. It really didn't take much. Just seeing the audition songs and the national champs singing "Rehab" by Amy Winehouse was enough for me. So by the time they did "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey in the final scene, I was already hooked.
I hope there's a new song in every episode. I can't wait for next week's episode and their version of "Gold Digger" by Kanye West, which you can see here.
I guess that makes me a Gleek!
Watch It!
ETA: I guess somehow I clicked to not allow comments. What's wrong with me today? I LOVE comments!...so feel free now...
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
The Time A Psychopath Broke Into My Room While I Slept
I've been asked to tell this story a lot lately, so I thought I would share it here.
When I was about 19 or 20, my dad and stepmom went on vacation and asked me to housesit for them. Since I was living at home with my mom, stepdad and stepsister, I jumped at the chance to have a whole house to myself for a week. I vowed to water plants, bring in mail, feed cats, etc and be the perfect housesitter. Before they left they warned me about possums getting under the house at night and making noise (they lived near a canyon) and basically told me not to worry about it.
I was having a great time being queen of the castle. Saturday night rolled around and I let a friend (he happens to be my husband now) borrow my car to deliver Sunday papers and then went to bed. Round about 2:30am I hear a weird scratching noise, but I assume it is possums and go back to sleep. 30-60 minutes later, I still hear the same noise and then realize it's not coming from under the house, it's coming from the bedroom window. Possums aren't that tall and can't climb walls, so now I am fully awake. I start to wonder if I ever locked the back door. I get up to check, and of course I hadn't locked it. So I flip on the back patio light and see a man pop up from the bushes near the bedroom window.
PANIC TIME!
Creepoid asks if he can talk to me for a second. I tell him to get the hell out of there and that I'm calling the cops.
As I'm dialing 911, I realize I'm not at my own house and don't remember the exact address. Luckily, I was a good housesitter and had neatly stacked the mail by the phone so I could recite the address. Unfortunately, I didn't know that the mailing address that they used was actually the street on the lower part of the canyon, and the front door off the little access alley that everyone on the street actually used, had a different address. Oh, and that all the little alleys were different variations of Main Street, Main Avenue, Main Lane, etc.
So while I'm on the phone with 911, explaining that there is a psycho trying to break in and kill me, Hannibal Lecter actually busts the window and climbs in. Apparently I startedscreaming calmly explaining to him that he needs to get the EFF OUT while the 911 dispatch person is saying "IF YOU CAN GET OUT OF THE HOUSE, GET OUT NOW! THE POLICE ARE RIGHT OUTSIDE!"
So I run out the front door, but not before grabbing a giant flashlight to club my attacker over the head with. And when I get outside...there is nothing. No cops. No cars. No flashing lights. No lights at all. And I'm standing there wearing the lime green underwear and white t-shirt that I had gone to bed in. Holding my flashlight. I don't even have my car to escape in, because I loaned it to my friend for the night.
What felt like an eternity later (5 seconds), a car drives up. Not a cop car, but a regular sedan being driven by the neighborhood newspaper delivery woman (coincidence?). She sees me standing there in my lovely white t (braless) and green undies and stops to ask me what I'm doing there at 3 something in the morning. I explain about the crazy ax murderer in the house and how I'm looking for the cops. She tells me that they're just around the corner, on Main Avenue, about to bust into another house. So I tell her to GO GET THEM! and she drives off.
I'm still standing there (like horror movie bait) with my flashlight and my underwear, listening to the serial killer moving around inside the house, talking to himself. Seconds later, a whole precinct of cops runs up to the house on foot. They tell me to stay where I am outside, and they all run in the house. I'm still standing there BY MYSELF, outside, for what felt like a good 10 minutes, before I go back in the house.
The head cop reprimands me for coming inside and not waiting for them to bring me in, and immediately starts questioning me. I ask if they caught the guy, they said yes and that they took him out the back of the house and put him in the squad car. So headcop starts asking more questions. I actually have to stop him and ask permission to GO PUT ON MY PANTS, and he responds by laughing and smiling and follows me to the bedroom to get my pants. Gee officer, you had no problem letting me sit outside at 3am without any police protection, but now you have to follow me and watch me put my pants on? Well, don't I feel safe now?
Anyway, long story short, I wasn't attacked or harmed in any way. I was subpoenaed to testify at the dude's hearing, and apparently he was a psych patient who had gone off his meds and thought it was his doctor's house. The first time I really got a good look at him was in the court room, and he had one of those "I see dead people" white patches of hair on his head. Freaky! Maybe he thought I was Bruce Willis and was coming to shoot me?!
I'm very lucky that nothing happened to me. Imaginging what could have happened really freaks me out. The silver lining bonus is that I am terrified of the dark and super paranoid about noises that I hear at night. It was years before I would take a shower when I was home alone at night (I was afraid the noise of the shower would drown out the noise of the killer coming to chainsaw me to bits). However, I also learned that in fight or flight situations, I will cuss at you and try to bash your head in with a flashlight. I took some self defense classes after that, but after sitting through all the horrible attack stories, it only convinced me that I was going to be raped in my driveway, and I had more anxiety than ever, so I quit going.
When I was about 19 or 20, my dad and stepmom went on vacation and asked me to housesit for them. Since I was living at home with my mom, stepdad and stepsister, I jumped at the chance to have a whole house to myself for a week. I vowed to water plants, bring in mail, feed cats, etc and be the perfect housesitter. Before they left they warned me about possums getting under the house at night and making noise (they lived near a canyon) and basically told me not to worry about it.
I was having a great time being queen of the castle. Saturday night rolled around and I let a friend (he happens to be my husband now) borrow my car to deliver Sunday papers and then went to bed. Round about 2:30am I hear a weird scratching noise, but I assume it is possums and go back to sleep. 30-60 minutes later, I still hear the same noise and then realize it's not coming from under the house, it's coming from the bedroom window. Possums aren't that tall and can't climb walls, so now I am fully awake. I start to wonder if I ever locked the back door. I get up to check, and of course I hadn't locked it. So I flip on the back patio light and see a man pop up from the bushes near the bedroom window.
PANIC TIME!
Creepoid asks if he can talk to me for a second. I tell him to get the hell out of there and that I'm calling the cops.
As I'm dialing 911, I realize I'm not at my own house and don't remember the exact address. Luckily, I was a good housesitter and had neatly stacked the mail by the phone so I could recite the address. Unfortunately, I didn't know that the mailing address that they used was actually the street on the lower part of the canyon, and the front door off the little access alley that everyone on the street actually used, had a different address. Oh, and that all the little alleys were different variations of Main Street, Main Avenue, Main Lane, etc.
So while I'm on the phone with 911, explaining that there is a psycho trying to break in and kill me, Hannibal Lecter actually busts the window and climbs in. Apparently I started
So I run out the front door, but not before grabbing a giant flashlight to club my attacker over the head with. And when I get outside...there is nothing. No cops. No cars. No flashing lights. No lights at all. And I'm standing there wearing the lime green underwear and white t-shirt that I had gone to bed in. Holding my flashlight. I don't even have my car to escape in, because I loaned it to my friend for the night.
What felt like an eternity later (5 seconds), a car drives up. Not a cop car, but a regular sedan being driven by the neighborhood newspaper delivery woman (coincidence?). She sees me standing there in my lovely white t (braless) and green undies and stops to ask me what I'm doing there at 3 something in the morning. I explain about the crazy ax murderer in the house and how I'm looking for the cops. She tells me that they're just around the corner, on Main Avenue, about to bust into another house. So I tell her to GO GET THEM! and she drives off.
I'm still standing there (like horror movie bait) with my flashlight and my underwear, listening to the serial killer moving around inside the house, talking to himself. Seconds later, a whole precinct of cops runs up to the house on foot. They tell me to stay where I am outside, and they all run in the house. I'm still standing there BY MYSELF, outside, for what felt like a good 10 minutes, before I go back in the house.
The head cop reprimands me for coming inside and not waiting for them to bring me in, and immediately starts questioning me. I ask if they caught the guy, they said yes and that they took him out the back of the house and put him in the squad car. So headcop starts asking more questions. I actually have to stop him and ask permission to GO PUT ON MY PANTS, and he responds by laughing and smiling and follows me to the bedroom to get my pants. Gee officer, you had no problem letting me sit outside at 3am without any police protection, but now you have to follow me and watch me put my pants on? Well, don't I feel safe now?
Anyway, long story short, I wasn't attacked or harmed in any way. I was subpoenaed to testify at the dude's hearing, and apparently he was a psych patient who had gone off his meds and thought it was his doctor's house. The first time I really got a good look at him was in the court room, and he had one of those "I see dead people" white patches of hair on his head. Freaky! Maybe he thought I was Bruce Willis and was coming to shoot me?!
I'm very lucky that nothing happened to me. Imaginging what could have happened really freaks me out. The silver lining bonus is that I am terrified of the dark and super paranoid about noises that I hear at night. It was years before I would take a shower when I was home alone at night (I was afraid the noise of the shower would drown out the noise of the killer coming to chainsaw me to bits). However, I also learned that in fight or flight situations, I will cuss at you and try to bash your head in with a flashlight. I took some self defense classes after that, but after sitting through all the horrible attack stories, it only convinced me that I was going to be raped in my driveway, and I had more anxiety than ever, so I quit going.
Krobert Stattinson Engaged!
So like, where do you think they're registered? I've totally been wanting to get them this crystal vampire fang ashtray that I saw, and now I have the perfect excuse! It's dazzling! (snerk)
Cause this is totally real and not in any way a marketing ploy to sell more magazines, right? US Weekly would never do that to its loyal readers! Thank goodness I have a subscription for the next 2 years, so I can stay informed of all the news and photos of the blessed event!
OMG, something totally just occured to me! Do you think they're (gasp!)...pregnant? Oh, please tell me they're expecting their very own
P.S. Is it possible to gag on/vomit squee?
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Jenny Lewis, Singer & Actress
Jenny Lewis, if I were Ursula, the Sea Witch, I would totally steal your voice and sing my heart out all the live-long day.
It is practically a crime that the only way for me to buy this song, Barking At The Moon, is to buy the Bolt soundtrack. That means buying a cd with John Travolta singing on it! It's a crime, I tell you!
And yeah, I could buy the MP3 version, but I really just want to be able to listen to it in my car (so I can sing my heart out in semi-privacy) or listen to it at work through my computer on Pandora. But Pandora doesn't even have it.
And now I'm being pouty about it.
This song is so pretty, why didn't Disney try to make more money off poor saps like me and market this song a little? Show me a little love, Disney! Let Jenny put it on one of her own cds!
Some of you might also Jenny Lewis acting in classics like Troop Beverly Hills and Big Girls Don't Cry, They Get Even!
It is practically a crime that the only way for me to buy this song, Barking At The Moon, is to buy the Bolt soundtrack. That means buying a cd with John Travolta singing on it! It's a crime, I tell you!
And yeah, I could buy the MP3 version, but I really just want to be able to listen to it in my car (so I can sing my heart out in semi-privacy) or listen to it at work through my computer on Pandora. But Pandora doesn't even have it.
And now I'm being pouty about it.
This song is so pretty, why didn't Disney try to make more money off poor saps like me and market this song a little? Show me a little love, Disney! Let Jenny put it on one of her own cds!
Some of you might also Jenny Lewis acting in classics like Troop Beverly Hills and Big Girls Don't Cry, They Get Even!
Ma Duggar: Baby Factory
The Duggars announced that they are expecting their 19th child. They currently have children ranging in ages 0-21, and their oldest is already married and expecting his first child.
(and this picture only shows 14 kids!)
If their children continue to have as many children, by the time they reach the 5th generation, there will be 3.2 million Duggars on the planet.
• One in every hundred people in America would be a Duggar.
• There would be more Duggars than Latvians.
• There would almost be enough Duggars to have one in every square mile of America.
• If all the Duggars earned $30,000 annually, they would collect $96 billion a year before taxes, enough to bailout AIG and have enough left to buy Marvel Comics three times over.
• If all the Duggars were armed there would be more than enough of them to defeat the North Korean and Russian armies combined.
• There would be more Duggars than Muslims in America.
• There would be more Duggars than residents of America's 21 least populous states.
(and this picture only shows 14 kids!)
If their children continue to have as many children, by the time they reach the 5th generation, there will be 3.2 million Duggars on the planet.
• One in every hundred people in America would be a Duggar.
• There would be more Duggars than Latvians.
• There would almost be enough Duggars to have one in every square mile of America.
• If all the Duggars earned $30,000 annually, they would collect $96 billion a year before taxes, enough to bailout AIG and have enough left to buy Marvel Comics three times over.
• If all the Duggars were armed there would be more than enough of them to defeat the North Korean and Russian armies combined.
• There would be more Duggars than Muslims in America.
• There would be more Duggars than residents of America's 21 least populous states.
About Me
- Kris
- I have many obsessions and they change frequently. I'm just fickle like that. So here's my little space to rant, vent, snark, squee, or cheer for my latest obsession. They vary from tv, books, movies, celebrities, beauty, clothes, shopping, websites, candy, work, etc. You get the idea. Basically anything that keeps my mind from actually being productive.
Blog Archive
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2009
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September
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- Noooooo!
- Cougar-licious
- Dear Kris of 1992
- Happy Birthday Blog!
- I Dedicate This To You, Kristina
- How To Finish Your Christmas Shopping All At Once
- Just Say No To Running
- Dear Husband, You Are BUSTED!
- Now You Know
- Kings of Leon
- It's Official! I'm In Love With Glee!
- The Time A Psychopath Broke Into My Room While I S...
- Krobert Stattinson Engaged!
- Jenny Lewis, Singer & Actress
- Ma Duggar: Baby Factory
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