...doing some super gross research. above. And I may or may not be married to my dog now, due to some very intimate acts with a tube of Preparation H. (Which she REALLY seemed to enjoy. Sigh.) Then come to find out she does NOT have hemorrhoids. Awesome. Thank god for antibacterial hand lotion.
Who gets a strawberry on their elbow at age 35. Actually, who gets one over the age of 7. I'll tell you who - me. Granted, I got it yesterday doing something semi-heroic - Charlie wriggled out of her collar and was heading for the street, so I Superman-hurled myself at her and caught her, while also scraping my body in gravel at the same time. Good grief. And, might I add, ouch.
On Sunday I made a box of red beans and rice (cue my mother groaning, as she makes this stuff from fresh ingredients, not from Zatarain's). It takes 25 minutes to cook, so I sprinted to the grocery store thinking I would be perfect on timing. Well. Ran in after 30 minutes to find the rice slightly burned and the kitchen a tad smoky (sorry, Charlie!). So not wanting the smoke alarm to go off, I ran the pot outside to the balcony. Charlie started barking at me, so I set the pot down to play with her for a few minutes - figured the stuff needed time to cool anyway. Perhaps I failed to mention that I set the pot down on one of the plastic wicker chairs that the owners of the apartment left for me to use. Annnnnd the pot was totally melted to the chair. Like I could pick the chair up by lifting the handle of the pot. Oops. Somehow peeled the pot from the chair, but now there's a lovely circle of melted mess on the chair - plus melted plastic on the bottom of the pot, which I assume would start a fire so I had to throw it away. And as I mentioned before, the meal itself was burned - so a giant FAIL all around.
This photo looks creepy, but you get the gist of the circle of doom on the chair. Sigh.
Surprisingly, not for me - but for sweet Charlie. I took her to the vet this morning, and um she has gained 3 pounds since becoming a Stockton. 3 pounds. A THIRD of her weight. (Now a fourth, but you catch my drift.) The vet wasn't alarmed, though - just said she was healthy - but this could explain why the XS sweater I bought her wouldn't fit over her head.
Perhaps giving her 10 dog treats a day isn't necessary.
I love a good white elephant party. I usually bring semi-normal gifts, but it's always awesome when someone gets the tragic or obviously re-gifted ones. Like last night - I went home with some lovely bangle bracelets, while the girl next to me got a bag of condoms and KY jelly. (Not saying which was the tragic gift and which was the awesome gift. Decide amongst yourselves.)
If anyone remembers my bobbleheaded friend Diane Esparza, SHE was a product of a white elephant party. And once I got Elvis! the board game and a coordinating pair of those plastic glasses you get when they dialate your eyes. Just what I always wanted.
The dream, of course, would actually be to get some sort of white elephant. There's always next year...
I don't cook. I don't really bake, either. (Honestly - what DO I do??) But every year I do manage to make roll-out sugar cookies - and do a helluva job decorating them, if I do say so myself. I grew up making these every year with my Nana - of course, she actually made the dough from scratch. No way in hell would I do that. I wouldn't have the patience to let the butter soften. (Plus I don't own a mixer, but let's not go down that road.)
Here, a glimpse of the 2012 batch:
(Was particularly excited to find silver glitter sugar - hence the random gray-looking ones.)
Apparently I have borderline hypothyroidism (which I had to Google), and the doctor put me on meds to regulate things. No biggie, but I get a weird thrill from telling people I have "a condition." (A thyroid condition, to be exact.) Sounds so....fancy. And sidebar - I already know a bunch of other people that have it. WHO KNEW. Thyroid conditions - unite!
Yesterday was the Dallas White Rock Marathon. Charlie and I went down to the street to watch the runners and cheer them on (technically we were blocked into the apartment complex because of the race anyway, so not much else to do, but I feel fairly certain we would have gone down there regardless). Best poster (tie): "You look skinny" and "You are NOT almost there!" Ha.
Watching the runners made me sentimental about when I ran the marathon back in 1999. Yes, kids - this was before the dawn of the iPod, so I had a fanny pack full of mixed tapes (!) which all came unraveled as I started running so I was stuck listening to the radio for 4 1/2 hours. Alas.
Then in 2009 I signed up again, but my body decided to rebel so I ran the half. And for some reason at mile 11 I thought I only had a mile left so started to seriously pick up the pace. At mile 12 there was no finish line and I realized my mathematical miscalculation. Bummer.
But in the end, I'm definitely glad I can mark both races off my bucket list. And possibly never run again.
Just heard "Stay" by Lisa Loeb on the radio - ohhh flashbacks to 1994, high school (Lisa Loeb went to my high school, so it made the song an even bigger deal to us), and of course, Reality Bites. Such a classic. In fact, I may have to buy a copy off Amazon today.
Plus: Hey, That's My Bike is still the best name for a band ever.
Took three whipped cream pies in the face for charity. The only girl to volunteer. And I soon found out why. It's disgusting. Tasty, but disgusting. My hair looked like it had been shellacked, and felt like cardboard. And even after I showered, I still smelled like spoiled milk. Not sure it was worth it. (Although the photos were fairly hilarious.)
I love guessing celebrity voiceovers on radio and TV commercials. Not to brag, but I'm fairly good at it. Obviously the McConaughey spots are super obvious (and delectable), but there's Tim Allen, John Corbett, Kate Walsh and Julia Roberts roaming around out there as well (plus many others, I'm sure). Have fun, kids.