Its not as dirty as it sounds....
I'm pretty sure I've been invaded by a body snatcher... I've never actually seen the movie, but I assume based on the title its pretty self explanatory? I'm guessing some alien "snatches" bodies and wears them like the Edgar-Suit in "Men In Black," only less decay? Well, my body snatcher has stolen me and made me a.... wait for it... a sports fan. I KNOW RIGHT! I'm newly obsessed with Basketball of all things... BASKETBALL!
My personal amazement at it is what leads me to believe I've been body snatched... It came out of NO WHERE too... one day Paul made me watch a pre-season team preview, and half way through kissed me goodbye and went home. Instead of changing the channel like any self respecting female, I kept watching, and proceeded to watch 3 MORE team previews, staying up way too late cuz I couldn't turn off the TV. Ever since then I've been watching. I LITERALLY haven't missed a Jazz Game! I have at least caught a few minutes of EVERY game this season! I find myself saying things like "Derron Williams is probably the best point guard in the NBA" or "Did you see the game last night, that offensive rebound by A.K. was amazing!" and the worst of all... "Paul Millsap had an amazing game, shot 46 points, that's a career HIGH!" I am ashamed to say it, but I know stats!
Here is my theory.... The snatcher worked in two ways... My boyfriend has already been snatched, I figure every boy has, so HIS snatcher told the Mothership that I was a susceptible target, maybe my immune system was down or something, so the Mothership pounced... and the Mothership is ESPN. They must have a way to transmit body snatchers through the TV. I figure that's why every guy is obsessed with all sports. I'm confident in my theory, I will probably submit it to the University of Nebraska or Iowa or something (you know one of the states with all the alien abductions) and let them research it further. I have every intention of only letting the Basketball body snatcher in... Paul's football body snatcher is trying to get me infected with that one and I refuse! Now that I am aware of all the snatching going on, I will put up a good fight! Do you think vitamin C will help?
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Life Lessons from Edible Spaghetti
Long story short, cooking is HARD!
Many of you probably know this, but I moved out on my own for the first time this May. Ridicule me later for living at home till I was 24, ok, that's not the point of this blog. As a result of being sheltered and cared for by my dear mommy for a solid 24 years, I never realized how hard cooking was until I moved out. And I am not kidding, it is HARD. I know I've said that already, but it bears repeating... HARD! For some reason, I had the idea that since I could read recipes and use measuring utensils that meant I was qualified to make gourmet meals. Jeez, no need to laugh so hard, I got set straight quick. I managed to screw up spaghetti 3 times. SPAGHETTI! With sauce from a JAR! I screwed that up. I am actually pretty sure that is kind of a talent in and of itself! First time, I over cooked the pasta, by alot, even the homemade pasta sauce I got grocery shopping in my mom's freezer couldn't redeem the congealed mess of noodles that used to be angel hair. Second time, I go for meat sauce... nothing fancy, I even called my mom to find out how the heck to do it so I didn't E-Coli myself. She gave me tips about seasoning the jar of sauce to give it a bit more homemade taste, I was so ready. I defrost the big old package of ground hamburger, throw it in a pan with some olive oil and begin the browning process.... so far so good. Open the jar of Prego... apparently one jar of sauce to like a pound and a half of meat is not a good ratio. It tasted like bland hamburgers with crazy noodles. Strike two. Third try, this one is the topper. I decided the over meated sauce into two containers, put one in the freezer for a start of a meal later on (Mom's Idea) and the other in the fridge to attempt spaghetti again the next day with an extra jar of sauce. Texted my personal cookbook "aka mom" for tips on seasoning and went to work. Apparently, when one says salt and pepper lightly, a teaspoon or two is too much salt. And don't get it confused, Oregeno and Parsley arent the same things, who knew! OMG, you guys, it was the worst thing i've ever tasted. Seriously, screwing up a jar of spaghetti sauce. I am just that good.
I think as we grow up we forget our optimism of youth. Do you guys remember the little engine that could? "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can." Or the little tugboat fella, what was his name. Or even Dory! "Just keep swimming, Just keep swimming." Think of that toddler with the blocks. Trying and trying to figure out how to get that damn square peg into the round hole, children don't give up, at some point they find the square hole. When we are young, EVERYTHING is new, EVERYTHING is hard, that's why we have stories like the Little Engine. When we are kids, we don't give up cuz something is hard, we don't even notice its hard, we are too busy figuring out how to do it to waste time thinking about how hard it's going to be. Where does that go when we grow up? Do we just get used to being good at stuff, so when things actually get tough, we get frustrated and quit. I think I might, Its a character thing, I am working on it.
Starting with spaghetti. I took the other half of the saucey meat out of the freezer Saturday. I am not going to say it was the best Italian food I've ever eaten, but it was edible. There was a good meat to sauce ratio, pasta was al dente, and most importantly it tasted like tomatoes not a salt lick. Sunday, I made stir fry on the FIRST try. The chicken was more then edible, it was GOOD. Ok, the broccoli was a bit under cooked, so was the rice, but again... edible. I am figuring next time I make stir fry, its going to be more then just edible, it will be good. I am like a little kid again, because right now, I don't have time to waste with HARD, all I can say is "I think I can," and remember the old adage, Practice makes Perfect.... I am still on the practice phase, wish me luck on the perfect.
Many of you probably know this, but I moved out on my own for the first time this May. Ridicule me later for living at home till I was 24, ok, that's not the point of this blog. As a result of being sheltered and cared for by my dear mommy for a solid 24 years, I never realized how hard cooking was until I moved out. And I am not kidding, it is HARD. I know I've said that already, but it bears repeating... HARD! For some reason, I had the idea that since I could read recipes and use measuring utensils that meant I was qualified to make gourmet meals. Jeez, no need to laugh so hard, I got set straight quick. I managed to screw up spaghetti 3 times. SPAGHETTI! With sauce from a JAR! I screwed that up. I am actually pretty sure that is kind of a talent in and of itself! First time, I over cooked the pasta, by alot, even the homemade pasta sauce I got grocery shopping in my mom's freezer couldn't redeem the congealed mess of noodles that used to be angel hair. Second time, I go for meat sauce... nothing fancy, I even called my mom to find out how the heck to do it so I didn't E-Coli myself. She gave me tips about seasoning the jar of sauce to give it a bit more homemade taste, I was so ready. I defrost the big old package of ground hamburger, throw it in a pan with some olive oil and begin the browning process.... so far so good. Open the jar of Prego... apparently one jar of sauce to like a pound and a half of meat is not a good ratio. It tasted like bland hamburgers with crazy noodles. Strike two. Third try, this one is the topper. I decided the over meated sauce into two containers, put one in the freezer for a start of a meal later on (Mom's Idea) and the other in the fridge to attempt spaghetti again the next day with an extra jar of sauce. Texted my personal cookbook "aka mom" for tips on seasoning and went to work. Apparently, when one says salt and pepper lightly, a teaspoon or two is too much salt. And don't get it confused, Oregeno and Parsley arent the same things, who knew! OMG, you guys, it was the worst thing i've ever tasted. Seriously, screwing up a jar of spaghetti sauce. I am just that good.
I think as we grow up we forget our optimism of youth. Do you guys remember the little engine that could? "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can." Or the little tugboat fella, what was his name. Or even Dory! "Just keep swimming, Just keep swimming." Think of that toddler with the blocks. Trying and trying to figure out how to get that damn square peg into the round hole, children don't give up, at some point they find the square hole. When we are young, EVERYTHING is new, EVERYTHING is hard, that's why we have stories like the Little Engine. When we are kids, we don't give up cuz something is hard, we don't even notice its hard, we are too busy figuring out how to do it to waste time thinking about how hard it's going to be. Where does that go when we grow up? Do we just get used to being good at stuff, so when things actually get tough, we get frustrated and quit. I think I might, Its a character thing, I am working on it.
Starting with spaghetti. I took the other half of the saucey meat out of the freezer Saturday. I am not going to say it was the best Italian food I've ever eaten, but it was edible. There was a good meat to sauce ratio, pasta was al dente, and most importantly it tasted like tomatoes not a salt lick. Sunday, I made stir fry on the FIRST try. The chicken was more then edible, it was GOOD. Ok, the broccoli was a bit under cooked, so was the rice, but again... edible. I am figuring next time I make stir fry, its going to be more then just edible, it will be good. I am like a little kid again, because right now, I don't have time to waste with HARD, all I can say is "I think I can," and remember the old adage, Practice makes Perfect.... I am still on the practice phase, wish me luck on the perfect.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Welcome to CrazyTown
Ok boys and girls, you might wanna stick close to me for this one. In a few short moments we will be taking a trip into Crazy Town. Hold on to my hand though, I am well acquainted with Crazy Town, I will be your guide. :)
So, its been a few months since I've blogged, I know, I am sorry I've disappointed all three of you. :) It's hard to blog when you have been living in Crazy Town though! Let's be honest with ourselves, ( I mean me and you, Loyal Reader. Not all the crazy people in my head, I will get to them later. ) I've had a monthly time share in Crazy Town since puberty, but its been a good few years since I've set up permanent residence there like I have this past month or so.
Welcome to Crazy Town, population 2. That would be me, and my hostage, my boyfriend Paul. Lets take a little stroll into my world.... July 24th, after about 2 weeks of hanging out daily after work and on the weekends, I told Paul to hang out with his family for the 24th. I will repeat, I TOLD him to, jot that down, it is important to the story later. All day long that day, I am being completely sane, some might even describe it as rational. Hanging out with my roommate, BBQing, having a beer, all and all having a really good day. Bout 7 pm, I decide to take a nap before fireworks, so I walk into my room. Apparently, on that day, my bedroom door was the portal into Crazy Town, because I suddenly got annoyed that Paul wasn't with me. Now children, refer to your notes, to remind yourselves why he wasn't there. I went to lay down, and got pissed that he wasn't there. I took a nap and woke up sad that he wasn't gonna be watching fireworks with me. Sometimes when I am living in Crazy Town, I am aware of my insanity, tonight wasn't one of those nights. By about 10, I am seesawing between pissed off and disappointed so I text Paul, who then stopped studying and came to my apt with an apology and a homemade muffin. You would think having your boyfriend apologize for not reading your mind would snap you on out of it, but no, I remained pissed for about an hour after. Poor guy. The good news is, I tend to bake when I am sorry about something, so so far he's gotten a molten chocolate lava cake, cookies and some cupcakes out of being my hostage. I am wondering if maybe he has Stockholm Syndrome.
The good news is, I am writing this blog, which maybe means I've moved back from Crazy Town, and can return to just my monthly time share again! Wish us luck... (this time I do mean me and all my crazy.... :) )
So, its been a few months since I've blogged, I know, I am sorry I've disappointed all three of you. :) It's hard to blog when you have been living in Crazy Town though! Let's be honest with ourselves, ( I mean me and you, Loyal Reader. Not all the crazy people in my head, I will get to them later. ) I've had a monthly time share in Crazy Town since puberty, but its been a good few years since I've set up permanent residence there like I have this past month or so.
Welcome to Crazy Town, population 2. That would be me, and my hostage, my boyfriend Paul. Lets take a little stroll into my world.... July 24th, after about 2 weeks of hanging out daily after work and on the weekends, I told Paul to hang out with his family for the 24th. I will repeat, I TOLD him to, jot that down, it is important to the story later. All day long that day, I am being completely sane, some might even describe it as rational. Hanging out with my roommate, BBQing, having a beer, all and all having a really good day. Bout 7 pm, I decide to take a nap before fireworks, so I walk into my room. Apparently, on that day, my bedroom door was the portal into Crazy Town, because I suddenly got annoyed that Paul wasn't with me. Now children, refer to your notes, to remind yourselves why he wasn't there. I went to lay down, and got pissed that he wasn't there. I took a nap and woke up sad that he wasn't gonna be watching fireworks with me. Sometimes when I am living in Crazy Town, I am aware of my insanity, tonight wasn't one of those nights. By about 10, I am seesawing between pissed off and disappointed so I text Paul, who then stopped studying and came to my apt with an apology and a homemade muffin. You would think having your boyfriend apologize for not reading your mind would snap you on out of it, but no, I remained pissed for about an hour after. Poor guy. The good news is, I tend to bake when I am sorry about something, so so far he's gotten a molten chocolate lava cake, cookies and some cupcakes out of being my hostage. I am wondering if maybe he has Stockholm Syndrome.
The good news is, I am writing this blog, which maybe means I've moved back from Crazy Town, and can return to just my monthly time share again! Wish us luck... (this time I do mean me and all my crazy.... :) )
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
My bible
Are you single? Do you have a vagina? if you answered yes to both of these questions then listen to me. I'm about to get on a soapbox, but it will be a good one so bare with me! Here is what I'm needing from you right now. Go to any retail facility that sells books.. and buy the bible!
Not that one! Jeez, why would i want you to get that? NO, go get He's Just Not That Into You. Here is the reason I bring this up now. Boys are stupid. And not just the ones in my life, which obviously they are. But really, I look around and It really makes me mad to see all my amazing beautiful girlfriends struggle so much with guys. The "bible" changed my whole outlook on life. Ok, not life, that's a bit extreme, but at least changed my outlook on dating.
Worrying about guys is a waste of time, cuz who cares why they do/don't do the things that they do/don't do!! And as Ive mentioned previously, guys can be douche's! Not all of them, and even the douches have the capability.. of becoming undouchey... But waiting around for that to happen is a waste. Smart, Beautiful, Amazing women waste so much time making themselves sick to their stomach wondering if we did something too needy/nice/crazy.. and made him not like us. It is SO liberating to realize him not liking me is really not my problem anymore.
In closing..... you people reading this..... do me a favor, next time a girl in your life totally forgets how freakin AMAZING they are and begin to say any variation of "what did i do wrong" or "why doesn't he love me enough" walk into my room and find the black paperback on my bookshelf with Jen Aniston and Drew Barrymore's faces on it, say "I'm borrowing this" and walk up to this girl and SMACK HER WITH IT! I think she will understand this violence is done out of love, and hopefully it will help her remember that just cuz He's Just Not That Into Her, it doesn't mean that she should be Just Not Into Her. Even if the reason hes not calling is because he really DID get his hand chopped of in the middle east because he stole a melon, then lost his genitalia in a tragic smelting accident and there for obviously is not capable of dialing the phone like he said he would, um HELLO.. who wants an appendageless kleptomaniac anyway? Ladies, we deserve better. To all my amazing beautiful girlfriends, just remember that.
Not that one! Jeez, why would i want you to get that? NO, go get He's Just Not That Into You. Here is the reason I bring this up now. Boys are stupid. And not just the ones in my life, which obviously they are. But really, I look around and It really makes me mad to see all my amazing beautiful girlfriends struggle so much with guys. The "bible" changed my whole outlook on life. Ok, not life, that's a bit extreme, but at least changed my outlook on dating.
Worrying about guys is a waste of time, cuz who cares why they do/don't do the things that they do/don't do!! And as Ive mentioned previously, guys can be douche's! Not all of them, and even the douches have the capability.. of becoming undouchey... But waiting around for that to happen is a waste. Smart, Beautiful, Amazing women waste so much time making themselves sick to their stomach wondering if we did something too needy/nice/crazy.. and made him not like us. It is SO liberating to realize him not liking me is really not my problem anymore.
In closing..... you people reading this..... do me a favor, next time a girl in your life totally forgets how freakin AMAZING they are and begin to say any variation of "what did i do wrong" or "why doesn't he love me enough" walk into my room and find the black paperback on my bookshelf with Jen Aniston and Drew Barrymore's faces on it, say "I'm borrowing this" and walk up to this girl and SMACK HER WITH IT! I think she will understand this violence is done out of love, and hopefully it will help her remember that just cuz He's Just Not That Into Her, it doesn't mean that she should be Just Not Into Her. Even if the reason hes not calling is because he really DID get his hand chopped of in the middle east because he stole a melon, then lost his genitalia in a tragic smelting accident and there for obviously is not capable of dialing the phone like he said he would, um HELLO.. who wants an appendageless kleptomaniac anyway? Ladies, we deserve better. To all my amazing beautiful girlfriends, just remember that.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Welcome to my world...
Kids... I work in a Urology office. That's right, if you ever have a question about a dis functional penis, I'm your girl!
OK, that's a lie, I know a few things about dis functional penis's, but, I DO have easy access to finding out. There is something about urologists... they LOVE talking about dongs....
But, I digress. In the world of Urology, we shall call this world Weenie-World, (Its like Disneyland, but with more cups full of pee!) there are many many crazy people. You would think the explanation is simple, men go nuts when their Pee-Pee's stop working. But here is the ultimate question. Its like Chicken V. Egg. The ultimate question in Weenie-world is... what came first, The ED or the Crazy?
Today, we had a new patient check in. And he was nutty from the first moment. He walked in wearing a blue muscle shirt that showed off his gut wonderfully, he was super sweaty and intense. Super secretive about what kind of insurance he had, and as explanation why, he "has to live here." Even his doctor said, "man that dude was a nut basket." Isolated incident you say? Um, no... we get the crazies CONSTANTLY. So, that's what I wanna know! Has Homie ALWAYS been nuts? Is there something about his brand of crazy that expedites impotence? OR, was he a normal sane guy till he stopped being able to have "the sex" and the back-up fried his brain?
This is just one of the things I ponder while living in Weenie-World.
Good times.
OK, that's a lie, I know a few things about dis functional penis's, but, I DO have easy access to finding out. There is something about urologists... they LOVE talking about dongs....
But, I digress. In the world of Urology, we shall call this world Weenie-World, (Its like Disneyland, but with more cups full of pee!) there are many many crazy people. You would think the explanation is simple, men go nuts when their Pee-Pee's stop working. But here is the ultimate question. Its like Chicken V. Egg. The ultimate question in Weenie-world is... what came first, The ED or the Crazy?
Today, we had a new patient check in. And he was nutty from the first moment. He walked in wearing a blue muscle shirt that showed off his gut wonderfully, he was super sweaty and intense. Super secretive about what kind of insurance he had, and as explanation why, he "has to live here." Even his doctor said, "man that dude was a nut basket." Isolated incident you say? Um, no... we get the crazies CONSTANTLY. So, that's what I wanna know! Has Homie ALWAYS been nuts? Is there something about his brand of crazy that expedites impotence? OR, was he a normal sane guy till he stopped being able to have "the sex" and the back-up fried his brain?
This is just one of the things I ponder while living in Weenie-World.
Good times.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
After much peer pressure....
"Mommy? Where do blogs come from??"
"Well little Timmy, when someone loves themselves VERY much they decide that the rest of the world should to, so they take it upon themselves to create a URL address and share all the details of their lives with the rest of the world. And that's why God created the Blog."
It's official boys and girls, I am now one of those annoying people who are like, "blah blah, read my blog so I feel cool... Yay!"
I anticipate nothing of substance will come out of this. If you are looking for pearls of wisdom like the super mom blogs that feature the recent amazing recipe for smoked organic puma and blue cheese salad, or a how-to guide to fixing a truck.... Well, I will be of no help to you.
No, I plan on telling you all, my already LOYAL readers, all two of you, about my daily life. Of being a single gal going to school and working, and you now have the unimaginable privilege of hearing about all of my amazing observations that being a 24-year-old (almost 25-year-old) living in this crazy city we call Salt Lake brings.
I make no guarantees about the spelling or grammar. That will depend on the quality of spell check attached to blogspot.com, as well as the amount of time and effort I'm willing to take to USE the spell check as intended. Lets be honest, any mistakes will have little to do with the spell-checker.
I do promise to make reference to puma's often. Don't ask me why, but I think they are the funniest animal to use as an example. I also promise to find other funny animals to use as metaphors. Maybe my next fave will be the Armadillo.... ? I promise to use words like Uber and Semi so you are rarely confused about the magnitude (or lack there of) of situations. And finally I promise to share my big fat opinion profusely. I know... with promises like that how could my blog be anything but UBER awesome!
So, buckle up kiddies, and welcome to my life of attempting to be a Grown-up in the 801!
"Well little Timmy, when someone loves themselves VERY much they decide that the rest of the world should to, so they take it upon themselves to create a URL address and share all the details of their lives with the rest of the world. And that's why God created the Blog."
It's official boys and girls, I am now one of those annoying people who are like, "blah blah, read my blog so I feel cool... Yay!"
I anticipate nothing of substance will come out of this. If you are looking for pearls of wisdom like the super mom blogs that feature the recent amazing recipe for smoked organic puma and blue cheese salad, or a how-to guide to fixing a truck.... Well, I will be of no help to you.
No, I plan on telling you all, my already LOYAL readers, all two of you, about my daily life. Of being a single gal going to school and working, and you now have the unimaginable privilege of hearing about all of my amazing observations that being a 24-year-old (almost 25-year-old) living in this crazy city we call Salt Lake brings.
I make no guarantees about the spelling or grammar. That will depend on the quality of spell check attached to blogspot.com, as well as the amount of time and effort I'm willing to take to USE the spell check as intended. Lets be honest, any mistakes will have little to do with the spell-checker.
I do promise to make reference to puma's often. Don't ask me why, but I think they are the funniest animal to use as an example. I also promise to find other funny animals to use as metaphors. Maybe my next fave will be the Armadillo.... ? I promise to use words like Uber and Semi so you are rarely confused about the magnitude (or lack there of) of situations. And finally I promise to share my big fat opinion profusely. I know... with promises like that how could my blog be anything but UBER awesome!
So, buckle up kiddies, and welcome to my life of attempting to be a Grown-up in the 801!
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