Abnormal News Day

I read regular news every day, and it's just entirely too depressing. Natural disasters, economic depression, murder, war, blahbety blah.

Sheesh.

Makes you seriously consider want to lock your doors and just stay inside. As long as you have satellite television, a cell phone and internet access, anyway.

And, of course, Doritos and sour cream.*

Which I do.

Thankfully, MSNBC provides a "Weird News" section to their website, and it has become my favorite news source. This giant corporation actually pays people to travel the world, searching for 911-dialing dogs, two-headed animals and really hairy men. It's fantabulous, really.

So, this morning as I was reviewing the weird news of the world, it was brought to my attention - via the large print and slide-show preview to the right of the page - that MSN actually does Weird Science Awards. No. Freaking. Way.

Well, of course I have to share my discovery with you. (I won't show all award-winners here, but check the link at the bottom of this post and it will direct you to MSNBC's page.) Off we go...

BREAKING NEWS:
In a German zoological vote, it has been deemed acceptable for homosexual penguins to adopt and raise babies.


Not really. You did make one of those WHAT?! faces after reading that though, didn't you?


Story goes like this: momma penguin hatches egg but wants to focus on her career and daddy penguin is a dead-beat, so they abandon baby penguin. Concerned for the fetus, zookeepers take a chance and place egg in cage of a known gay penguin couple.

That's right, folks. Gay penguin couple.


And how do they know said penguins are Boy George-ing it? Well apparently the boys were caught trying to mate. Naughty, naughty.


As was hoped, the happy couple incubated the egg for a month, then proceeded to care for the newborn penguin after it hatched.


(I'm not making this stuff up. Well, maybe the part about mom penguin and dad penguin, but the rest is true.)

Apparently scientists have found a way to grow bunny....ahem....parts. (Yes, the x-ray picture above is, in fact, a hare's one-eyed monster.)

I was a tad confused by this one, because 1) aren't there already enough reproducing rabbits in the world? and 2) can't a few competent males handle the existence of baby bunnies everywhere? I mean, the phrase "hump like rabbits" must have had some literal reference.

Either way, cheers to you, Bugs Bunny. Getcha some.

Researchers in Nevada discovered a blob (no, not the Blob. I just wanted to use that picture) of substance-dripping rock just hanging out about 50 miles beneath the surface. It's supposedly 60 miles wide, but scientists aren't concerned with it busting through the ground and taking over Las Vegas. At least, that's what they want us to think....

After decades of believing da Vinci's muse Mona Lisa to be a shy and somewhat unwilling model, a new discovery has us reconsidering. It looks like miss Mona was actually a foxy little thing. Supposedly hidden for almost a century within the walls of a library, the above painting shows a topless model bearing striking resemblance to the famed painted lady.

If these piqued your interest, be sure to check out the 69ing bats, glow-in-the-dark puppies and other abnormalities at http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/34712701/ns/technology_and_science-science

*If you've never tried Doritos and sour cream, I suggest you stop reading immediately, get in your car, drive to the nearest store, buy some and try it. It will ROCK.YOUR.WORLD.

Eeeek! (The tale of the rebel rodent)

It all started on a humid Louisiana evening. 

A man and woman were sitting together in the den, watching movies and chatting about the events of their day.  The children were playing in their bedroom, giggling and squealing with delight at their toys and imaginations.  Nothing could have prepared them for what was about to take place....

Suddenly, and without warning -as these things usually happen - the husband saw movement out of the corner of his eye.  He turned his head swiftly in the direction of the motion, but saw nothing. 

"Did you see that?" he asked his wife as he stared towards the kitchen.  She paid him little mind; he often imagined things.  "It was probably nothing," she replied, then turned her attention back to the television.  After a moment he shrugged, thinking maybe he'd imagined it after all.   He started to watch the movie again, but another sudden movement had him glancing back to the kitchen, and he saw it.....

Terrifying.  Awful.  Evil.

"It's a mouse!" The man jumped up and pointed.  Immediately he had his wife's attention. She leaned over, peering into the kitchen, waiting to see the horrible creature. 

They waited......and waited.   Right as she was about to give up, there it was!

She saw it.  The round ears.  The long, thin tail.  The dark, tiny nose. 

"Kill it!" she screamed, and her husband jumped up bravely, prepared to defend his wife and children from the terrible menace that had invaded their home. 

Unfortunately for him, mice are small and extremely fast.  The mouse scurried under the oven, and has yet to be seen or heard from again.  Still, the husband keeps vigilant watch, waiting for the day when he will come face to face with the intruder, and end this once and for all...

True story.

Love Letter to Gibbs

Dear Mark,

First, can I call you Gibbs? I'm sure you don't mind. So I'll start again.

Dear Gibbs (ahhh),

It all started many years ago. I was a very young girl the first time I saw you. I turned the television to HBO - back when it came free with cable - and a movie called "Summer School" was on.



There you were: handsome, charming and funny as you dealt with misfit kids and chased after Kirstie Alley. Not only did you have a rockin' bachelor's pad on the beach, you had a dog, too. All it took was one of those heart-stopping grins and I was smitten kitten.

Yes, I said smitten kitten.

You made appearances here and there, on shows and in films. I was happy to see you on St. Elsewhere as Dr. Bobby Caldwell for a few years, but then you got HIV from whoring around - it's okay, I forgive you - and eventually died.



After that I stalked you via magazine - hello People's Sexiest Man Alive 1986 - and television. I watched you portray a serial killer and Cybill Shepherd's love interest (why would you do something like that?!). Then, thankfully, you returned to the medical field a la Chicago Hope.



Thank you Jesus for scrubs. YUM.

Ahem.

Anyhoo, I didn't see you for a few years, and I must admit I wasn't terribly distraught - what with college, boys and work to keep me busy. I confess my attentions did meander a bit to the likes of Justin Timberlake, Matthew McConaughey, Ryan Reynolds and Johnny Depp. Before you get upset, let me reassure you that the feelings I felt for them didn't even remotely compare to the love and affection I feel for you. I moved on, but never forgot you...

Then, one day out of the blue, there you were:





Leroy. Jethro. Gibbs. In all of your gray - ie: SEXY - hair and gorgeous glory. CBS gave me the best present ever and made you the main man of NCIS. Not only that, but you're a single man. Sure, you'll hook up with a red-headed chick here and there, but nothing serious. I'm all for the casual roll in the hay, just as long as I don't have to see it.

I see you week after week, solving murders and whacking those crazy kids DiNozzo and McGee in the back of the head. On a rare occasion you'll give that million dollar mega-watt smile and my heart will melt all over again.

I know our love will never be more than just admiration from afar, although I have told my husband repeatedly that if the opportunity ever presented itself, I'd drop him in a heartbeat to be with you. He's cool with it.

So with all of that being said, I shall end this letter with a promise. Keep being Gibbs, and I'll keep being your creepy, way younger but still smitten kitten - yes, I said it again - fan,

Jess

Fantabulous Friday! (Chicka chicka yeah)

That's right, people.  It's FRIDAY.  Woop woop.  Time to hang out with our thang out.

Just kidding.

I love Fridays, not because they're a prelude to my most favorite day, and not because they signify the end of the work week.

No?  Then why do I love Fridays, you ask?

Well,  I love Fridays because on this day, the second-best day of the week, I will share with you a few people/places/foods/things that make my list of the MOST FANTABULOUS in the world.  Well, my world at least.


1. CHEESY MAC

Some of you may be thinking "Cheesy mac?  How is that fantabulous?" Just to prove my point, I've listed a few reasons:
1.  It's cheesy - which in and of itself is awesome.
2.  It's the best broke food there is.  Trust me, I'm poor.  I've had a LOT of broke food.
3.  Where else can you find pouches of cheese powder?  Not that I condone any use of the cheesy   
     powder not specified on the box...
4.  Honestly, who doesn't like saying "cheesy mac"?  Nobody. 

I rest my case.


2.  JOHNNY DEPP

That's right, ladies (and some men).  Look at him.  You know you want to.  Whether he's Gilbert Grape, Raoul Duke, Ichabod Crane, Jack Sparrow, The Mad Hatter or Edward Scissorhands, it makes no difference.  He's too sexy for his shirt.  Yes indeedy.  One of the most FANTABULOUS men to ever walk the planet. 


3. DVR

If it weren't for this baby, think of all the mindless hours I'd miss sitting in front of the tube.  Besides, it rectifies the mistakes of the two idiots who put my beloved Gibbs on at the same time as American Idol.  Now I can drool over Gibbs for an hour, then go back in time and watch Randy Jackson say "it was a little pitchy, dawg" for an hour.  Not to mention the bajillion episodes of Ace of Cake that come on every single day. It's a win-win situation.  Correction - it's a FANTABULOUS situation.  (You liked that one, didn't you?)

4. BETTY WHITE

Not only was she hilarious as Rose on The Golden Girls for nearly a decade, but she rocked as Ryan Reynold's G-maw in The Proposal and was EPIC on Saturday Night Live a few months ago.  This chick is the epitome of fantabulous.

That's all for today, kids.   

Peace out!

Face Punch

I'm in a particularly grumpy mood today because I woke up to discover that there is absolutely no coffee in my house. None.

Ain't it grand?

In honor of this terrible day - and my stellar mood - I've decided to give a rundown of people I'd like to punch in the face, if given the opportunity. Not people I actually know, because then I'd be forced into confrontations, and who wants to do that with no coffee?





First up:

Octomom, aka Nadya Suleman, aka Creepy Angelina Jolie look-alike.  Somewhat.  If she had her head turned a certain way.  And the lights were off. 

Having a ridiculous amount of children is one thing; doing it to be a celebrity is another.  You, Octomom, would get a giant punch in the face.


Next we have:

 Speidi.   The biggest paparazzi whores that ever were.   These attention-seeking divas fake break-ups and make ups just to get their names back in the Hollywood gossip columns.  He's an ass clown and she's mostly plastic now, and I hate them both. 
*ass clown : a prick, who is also a jackass (just in case you didn't know)

And then there was:

Borat.  I know to the majority of the world he's this hilarious personality, but I can't stand him.  Hate the accent, hate the dialogue, hate everything about him.  I also hate Sacha Cohen's other alter-ego, Bruno. (Although I did get a kick out of him landing in Eminem's face last year. That was pretty funny.)

Followed by:

 Justin Bieber.  First, CUT YOUR HAIR.  You look stupid.  Second, what's with the peace signs in every other photo?  You're not cool enough to pull it off.  The only people cool enough to pull off repeated peace signs are Quentin Tarantino and the late Michael Jackson. So stop it, already.  Third, you're what, twelve?  Stop singing about heartbreak and being so in love with a girl.  You don't know what love is.  You probably haven't even hit puberty yet.  P.S. When you finally do, that whiny girl voice of yours will disappear.  MUAH HAHAHAHAHAHA.  So, tiny face slap to you because I don't want to go to jail.

I guess I'm finally running out of steam, or maybe all of the pretend face-punching is therapeutic.  Either way, I'll punch no more faces today.

Unless the chick at Starbucks gets my white chocolate mocha cappuccino wrong... 

Guilty Pleasure Confessions....OR Reasons I'll lose all of my followers

Yes, ladies and gents, it's time for a little soul-searching, deep, dark secret-telling slumber party discussion. Let's talk about guilty pleasures. Obviously I have to go first, but you have to promise you won't tell my mom.

Pinky swear?

Okay. Let's do this.


There are some things I take a great deal of pleasure in, and of course the most pleasurable things are the ones you can't share with others. If you did, they'd know you were cheesy, a nerd, a whore, et cetera. However, I think it's healthy to admit such things to our friends. If we can't share our love of Justin Bieber (not really), then what good is our friendship? Besides, having to keep it secret just makes it that much better, right?

NOTE: If you have an affection for cross-dressing prostitutes, animal sex, Martha Stewart and/or necrophilia, this is not the time to divulge. Sorry. Tell your therapist about it on Friday.


First up:

That's right, Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen. No I do not have a lesbian crush on them. Well, maybe a little one. I do love their movies though. Every single coming-of-age, teen crush, feel good movie they've made. Love 'em all. My favorite is Winning London.



Moving on...


Playing dress-up Barbie with my daughters.

I know this isn't that big of a deal, a lot of women play dress up with their daughters. My secret is that I persuade my daughters to play with their barbies so I will have the excuse to play too. Did the same thing with my little sisters before they grew out of the doll phase.



Un-following me yet? No? Let's continue...


N'Sync. I love them, even still. I remember the first time I ever saw Justin Timberlake and company. They sang "I Want You Back" on an episode of TRL. I took one look at that curly blonde hair and those beautiful eyes and declared to my sister, "I'm going to marry him!" (Hey, give me a break; I was 13.) I bought every magazine with their picture in it, bought the N'Sync VHS of them in concert and watched it until it stopped playing altogether. I entered every N'Sync-related contest - I even won once; the prize was a heart-shaped cd that played three versions of "Tearin' Up My Heart" AND an autographed picture of them. (You're jealous as hell right now, aren't you?) I even saw them in concert.

All these years later, I'll be driving down the road and get an urge to belt out the group's pop songs at the top of my lungs. Even with untinted windows, you ask? You betcha.




Now I'm starting to worry that I'll wake up tomorrow and have zero followers again, so I'll share one more, but that's it...



Secret Life of the American Teenager and Make it or Break It

This is one of the hardest guilty pleasures for me to admit. I always feel guilty - literally - for watching it, like God would be disappointed in my wasting entire hours of my life on these whiny, bitchy, premarital-sex-having kids. Half of the time I'm yelling at the television because some of the characters are so idiotic or slutty. Regardless, every week I tune in to watch teenage angst as portrayed by beautiful, pimple-free kids.


With the above confessions now made public for all the world to see, I would feel SO much better if some of you - my loyal followers - would share a guilty pleasure or two, forever uniting us in the bonds of embarrassment.

Anyone? Anyone?

Accidental Text = Entertainment

Yesterday I was minding my own business, texting friends and playing Frontierville on Facebook (It's a sad addiction. They should have Apps Anonymous for people like me). Suddenly I get one of those texts that let you know it's someone on yahoo messenger or some text app for iPhone. I open the message and it's from a girl who I am quite positive I do not know. We'll call her Jane and the intended recipient Joe. This is the initial message (NOTE: I will be using said girl's exact spelling. This is to help you form an educated opinion.):

Jane: Heeeeeeeeey , Mister Fly ,(:

Now, obviously I am not a man, and no one refers to me as Mister Fly - at least not to my face. I text my buddy Mo. "I know I should tell her she's got a wrong number, but now I'm really curious as to why a male would have the nickname 'Mister Fly.'" His suggestion: play this out. I'm bored, so I figure why not. Here you have our conversation:

Me: Who's mister fly?
Jane: Yuuuu , Rememberrr ?
Me: Refresh my memory.
Jane: Joee ! Yuuuur soo stupiiiiid !
Me: Just humor me. Tell me a story.
Jane: Huh ? Hahahahahahaa .

After that last response I realize she has no idea what the phrase "humor me" means, which implies that she's A) an idiot, or B) someone under the age of 13 (I'm being generous here). Let's continue...

Me: Why do you call me mister fly?
Jane: Nvm !
Me: Please?
Jane: No ,

And since I could NOT stop myself, I said:

Me: Don't you love me anymore?
Jane: Uhmmm , ?

Now I'm thinking that I may have just made things a tad uncomfortable for poor Joe the next time he sees Jane. Oh well. I can't just do this thing halfway.

Me: Come on, Jane.
Jane: Idkkk .
Me: Why not?
Jane: I DUNNO .

About three minutes pass, then

Jane: ohh , yes I do .(:
Me: That's better. Now will you tell me why you call me mister fly?
Jane: Yeah , do yuu lovee mee !?

Okay, I know this is morally wrong. To toy with the emotions of some Hannah Montana-loving, teeny bopper tween is possibly damaging to her emotional stability. However, I have nothing better to do at the moment and my friends are getting a good laugh out of it. Plus I still haven't learned why she calls him Mister Fly. Thus, I continue.

Me: That depends.
Jane: FROG ?
Me: Details please.
Jane MisterFly ;
Me: Well that's not details.
Jane: Uhmmm , idr.

What does "idr" mean? I still haven't found someone who can explain that. "I don't remember" maybe?

Me: Please, Jane! Tell me the story of how I came to be Mister Fly.
Jane: idr , ! i promise .
Me: Well that's disappointing.
Jane: gtg chherr (cheer?) , ttyl (I know that one).

Ah, so the plot thickens. She's a cheerleader. I would say that explains so much, but I have friends who are former cheerleaders, and I love them deeply and would like to keep them as friends. So, her being a cheerleader had no impact whatsoever on my opinion.

Jane disappeared into the night, and I never solved the mystery of Mister Fly. A few friends speculated about the meaning (never zips his fly, sexual references, maybe he's slimy, etc.), but we never came to a solid conclusion.

So, waste of a good half hour. Oh well, at least I was entertained.

On a side note, if you know anyone who actually spells like this, please take them to an English teacher immediately. I beg you. There isn't a cure for stupidity, but together we can find a way.

Movie Delight Monday!

In lieu of offering some frail attempt at excitement about this most despised of days, I will simply say

'Sup, y'all?

So here's the dealio:

I realized this morning that I've posted at least once a day for the past SIXTEEN DAYS. Shocking, I know. In the hopes of continuing this impressive (to me, at least) trend, I decided that maybe I'll be less likely to run out of blog topics if I have some recurring themes. Mondays are always the bane of my existence, and as such my corresponding mood causes for blogger's block. Hence, MOVIE DELIGHT MONDAYS.

You don't have to say it, I know it's brilliant.

This is how it's going to work: every Monday will be dedicated to reviewing movies that are from before 2000. I will cover movies that I feel are under-appreciated for whatever reasons and try to convince you wonderful people to see it ASAP. I encourage you to comment on the movies - whether you love them, hate them, have never seen them - but also to recommend some of your favorite movies from yesteryear that you think are worth sharing. Sound good? Good. So here we go with our first ever MOVIE DELIGHT MONDAY review....




Once Bitten

We all know the 80s affection for vampires, werewolves and all things mythical were on the side of cheese, but that's okay because we loved it. This 1985 teen sex movie was poorly written, and director Howard Storm obviously needed firing, but it's an opportunity to see a young, not-yet-famous Jim Carrey in action.

Young Mark Kendal is frustrated with his frigid girlfriend Robin because she won't put out (ah, teenage love). A night on the town finds our embarrassingly virginal Mark in a tempting situation with a (much) older but still smokin' Lauren Hutton. Add liquor to bad decisions, and you have yourself a teenage vampire.

Hilarity ensues as old lady vamp stalks new teen vamp all over town in effort to save herself from turning into really old lady vamp. Meanwhile, wholesome girlfriend can't figure out why boyfriend is suddenly so distracted, pale and has no reflection.

Despite the obvious problems with this film, Carrey is endearing and fun to watch. Supporting actor Cleavon Little offers a great deal of comic relief as well, so pay attention to his innuendos and facial expressions in his many short scenes.

That's What She Said: An appreciation for the double entendre

I have a dirty mind. It can't be helped. If there is an opportunity for something said to be taken the wrong way, my brain will be one of the first ones there. It's really not my fault, what with years of American Pies, Scary Movies and National Lampoons forced upon me (not to mention the Porky's trilogy from the seventies!). Add to that my accompanying dear old dad to work two weeks a year since age twelve - he worked with 12 men, all of whom were single except for three - and it was inevitable.

Out of all of the possible ways one can be dirty-minded, my absolute favorite is "that's what she said" moments. Maybe I appreciate them more because they can't be planned. It's spur-of-the-moment, quick thinking opportunity. I love it.

Most people think the TWSS phenomenon was started on The Office. Sorry Michael Scott fans, but it was first coined during the filming of a Hitchcock film. Originally "as the girl said to the soldier" or "said the actress to the bishop," the phrase changed over time to today's fad. TWSS made mainstream appearance again in the Wayne's World films. The use of the phrase died out in pop culture until the creation of The Office.

As a fun little treat for you, I've decided to post some of the best "that's what she said" lines I've seen in tv shows and movies, as well as instances that have happened to myself and friends.

1. "The smell doesn't really bother me, it still tastes good."
2. "Just stick it in the back if there's room."
3. "Oh man, you got me right in the face."
4. "The last time I went down there I couldn't find it."
5. "Just put it anywhere you want."
6. "Man, my knees hurt really bad!"
7. "Are you done yet? I'm getting tired of holding this."
8. "You're doing it wrong!"
9. "Wait for me!"
10. "Okay, just sit on it for a day and see what happens."
11. "It's stuck!"
12. "You might have to take it out and put it back in again."
13. "Do you have a big one?"
14. "It burns!"
15. "Come again?"


On a side note, let me just say that if you happen to experience a "that's what she said" moment in front of your grandmother - no matter how good it is - do not say it. You don't want to waste an hour of your life trying to explain it to someone who just will not get it. Trust me, I've tried.

Sexy Nerds

So we all appreciated Ryan Reynolds naked in The Proposal, Matthew McConaughey in every movie he's ever made and Collin Farrell shirtless in American Outlaws. Today, however, I'd like to take a moment to honor the movie nerds I've come to love.


Patrick Dempsey as Ronald Miller in "Can't Buy Me Love"
I know he's McDreamy now, but back in the day he made a super-cute nerd. I'd ride his lawnmower any day.



Rick Moranis as Seymour Krelborn in "Litte Shop of Horrors"
Poor Seymour just wanted to be a successful florist and win the affections of ditzy, abused Audrey. At least he could sing. Somewhat.



Anthony Michael Hall in any John Hughes film
Anthony is the epitome of the 80s nerd. Smart, innocent, gullible and totally sexy.



Michael Cera
Whether he's Bleeker in Juno or Evan in Superbad, Michael Cera's boy-next-door, unaware persona is so sweet you just want to take him home to Momma.


Paul Rudd as Josh in "Clueless"
My very first movie crush. Ever.


Alan Ruck as Cameron Frye in "Ferris Bueller's Day Off"
When Cameron was in Egypt's land....Let my Cameron go.


Harold Ramis as Egon in "Ghostbusters"
Parapsychologist saving the world with the likes of Bill Murray and Dan Akroyd.


Brendan Fraser as Elliot Richards in "Bedazzled"
The devil gypped him for a hamburger. LOVED him in this film.


Jay Baruchel as Kirk in "She's Out of My League"
This character is by far one of my favorite nerds. Witty, sarcastic and general good guy.

Thongs vs. Granny Panties: A New Idea For The Great Debate

Now, before you roll your eyes and mumble something about having heard every possible side of this argument since the creation of the buttcrack dental floss known as thongs, I assure you this is an entirely new idea. Well, new to me. Here we go...

Whenever the discussion/argument/protests about the thong vs. panty debate arise, it's usually centered around two things: comfort or fashion. The general consensus is if you're going for fashion, you're a thong girl. Comfort, panties. The majority of men obviously prefer thongs, and are usually only okay with their girl wearing granny panties if she is A) on her period; B) pregnant; C) hanging out with one of her guy friends.

Women have voiced different reasons for going granny on occasion, but I have never before heard the reason given to me recently by a sexy, beautiful, middle-aged woman. We'll call her Jane.

Jane, myself and another woman (we'll call her Eve) were spending quality time together one day, and the great debate came up. Eve and myself, being aware of our friend Jane's preference for dependable cotton grannies, were trying pitifully to convince her of the necessity for sexy undies. We knew thongs were out of the question - you've got to ease them in gently - but were going on incessantly about all of the cute alternatives out there. Boyshorts, bikini cut, etc. At least she could add some color to her current collection. Stripes. Polka dots. Something.

Jane let us ramble on for a few minutes, then cleared her throat as if to let us know she was about to impart some great wisdom. She was. "Did you ever stop to think that if I were to start wearing sexy undies, my husband would expect more sex?"

At that moment, it was like the clouds drifted away, the skies opened up and a bolt of lightening hit me square on the head. She wears granny panties as a defense from her horny old husband? It's genius! Eve and I sat there stunned, saying nothing. Just taking in the wisdom of this wonderful woman.

After a moment the laughter took over. We promised to never attempt to force her to buy sexy undies ever again. Long live the granny panty!

Lovey-dovey day

Perhaps it's due to an overload of the soft rock that's been playing (randomly, not intentionally) on my ipod all day, but I'm feeling rather romantic today. Don't get me wrong, I will never be one to wax poetic about the endless wonders of true love and soul mates and all of that nonsense. I'm a tad more practical. However, I do feel a great deal of appreciation for my husband today.

Gary and I have been on a joint staycation this week with the kiddos, and it's been fabulous. Every single lazy, tv-rerun, cereal-for-dinner moment has been utterly wonderful. Prior to our time off I was a little concerned that spending so much time together without a break would cause some bickering. I'm not so naive to think married couples actually enjoy being together 24/7 all the time, but imagine my surprise in discovering it is possible in small increments - say, a week once a year.

The only argument - albiet a small one - to take place occurred over my vertically-blessed man grabbing the wrong baking dish out of the cabinet. The nerve of him. I fussed, he stomped angrily to the bedroom. Two minutes later we were laughing at his dramatic exit. (He's never been one to argue, which is a good thing, although sometimes I wish he would get a little angry once in a while. It can be frustrating to want to have a yelling match and your opponent refuses to join in.)

We're coming up on our three-year anniversary. Doesn't seem like we've been married that long, but at the same time I feel like I've had the urge to strangle him at least a hundred times. (Don't pretend to be shocked, all of you married people understand me completely.) Yet as painstakingly annoying as he can be sometimes, he is still the kindest, most honest, gentle, trustworthy and loving man I've ever met. He still opens doors for me, holds my hand in the car and in public, does little acts of love to remind me that he loves me. Sweetness in one of its best forms.

As far as child duty goes, Gary is above par. He's great with the feeding, bathing, story-time, play time, etc. The only area he's difficult with is diaper changing time. His argument: weak stomach. Wuss. Still, he's an all-around good dad, who is sweet enough to entertain the girls while Mommy tries to focus long enough to write blogs...

Have no fear, The Viper is here!

Forget Gotham and Metropolis. Columbia, Tennessee is apparently where all supervillians have relocated. Much to their dismay, however, there's a new caped crusader in town. His name is The Viper. (You think I'm kidding, but I'm completely serious.)



Last week two Columbia police officers were having just another average day protecting the peace when they happened upon a young man in tights, donning under armor, two plastic sticks and a utility belt complete with screwdriver and cell phone - you know, in case he encountered actual crime and needed to call 911. Our hero also had stashed in his vipermobile - er, I mean car - ninja throwing stars.

Upon investigation, the officers learned that our hero is actually a 20-year old chemistry student with a tragic lack of social life. Add that to an affection for tights, and you've got yourself a crime-fighting alter-ego. I guess it would be concerning to have a chemist with questionable mental stability running amuck late at night through town, but seeing as how it's Columbia and not New York City, I'm guessing the local PD are just getting a good laugh out of the ordeal.

When interviewed by news reporters, the aspiring superhero said, "I'm just trying to do what's right, in tights." Well, residents of Columbia, now you can sleep peacefully at night knowing that wherever evil may be lurking, The Viper will find it, and he will destroy it. That or throw sticks at it before calling police.


The Viper Story

Put your records on (or in today's case, your iPod)

You're having the worst day possible. Nothing is going right. Your boyfriend dumped you for some younger, hotter chick. You got fired from your mediocre job. While carrying the contents of your desk to your car you drop your cell phone and it breaks. You reach your car to find you have a flat tire. On the verge of a total breakdown, you slide into your car, crank the engine and plan to take a moment to collect yourself before imposing your awful luck on everyone else in the world. Suddenly a song on the radio catches your attention. It's a pop song from your teen years. Back when you were unexperienced, untainted and completely optimistic of the future. Before you know it, you're driving down the road, singing along and you're actually SMILING. How did that happen? It's the music, man....

It's amazing how music can alter a mood. I've been having days like the one mentioned above, and the right song comes on, and suddenly everything doesn't seem quite so dreary. I've been in a great mood, heard a sad song, and suddenly felt melancholy. Alternative music seems to fuel my angry moods, and love songs make me appreciate my husband more. How does that work?

Obviously, not everyone has that emotional tie to music. My husband is one of those people. He hardly ever listens to the lyrics of a song, and never ever sings along. Frustrating. I'll be all mushy sometimes and ask him to listen to a song. Halfway through it I realize his mind is somewhere else entirely. "Are you even listening?" I'll ask, exasperated. "Of course," is his usual reply, until prompted to repeat the chorus, which he cannot.

There are songs on my iPod that I always play when in particular moods. These songs for some reason made me have an emotional reaction, and in return end up in my list of all-time favorites. A few are so personal to me that I don't even like listening to them unless I'm alone.

I won't give reasons for why each of the following songs are on my favorite list, but I'm sharing a few in the hopes that someone will listen to one of them at the right moment, and it will leave an impression on them the same way it did me.


I'm Moving On - Rascal Flatts
It Ends Tonight - All-American Rejects
Something To Belive In - Poison
Don't Stop Believing - Journey
Mexico - Incubus
Stained Glass Masquerade - Casting Crowns
Learn To Be Still - Eagles
She's Got A Way - Billy Joel
Bittersweet Symphony - The Verve
Help Me Believe - Nichole Nordeman
The Reason - Hoobastank
November Rain - Guns 'N Roses
Hey Jude - The Beatles
3 a.m. (acoustic) - Matchbox Twenty
Acoustic - Goo Goo Dolls
Nearness of You - Norah Jones
Soul to Squeeze - Red Hot Chili Peppers
Hallelujah - Rufus Wainwright
Jaded - Aerosmith
Nobody Knows It But Me - Babyface
Voodoo - Godsmack
Old LA Tonight - Ozzy Osbourne
Look What You've Done - Jet
Cry Me A River - Justin Timberlake
Papercut - Linkin Park
The Memory - Pantera
Broken - Seether
Groovy Kind of Love - Phil Collins

Lindsay Lohan's going to jail for 90 days. Riiiiiiiiiight.

Lindsay Lohan sentenced to 90 days in jail

Breaking news: another young drunken star sentenced to actual jail time. Lindsay Lohan, Hollywood's resident bad girl for the past few years (well, ever since Paris calmed down and Nicole got knocked up) has finally pushed the legal system to its limit. According to reports, the actress violated her three-year probation by failing to attend a court-ordered alcohol education class.

If we're being honest here, you can't really blame the girl for thinking it would be no big deal if she bailed on the classes. How many celebrities have shirked responsibility and punishment time and time again, only to be slapped on the hand and scolded like a child caught stealing cookies before dinnertime? It's always been understood that if you're famous, the system works differently, more leniently. The rules that apply to the rest of the world simply do not count when you consider the great contribution celebrities make to the world. Ha. Not to mention the exhorbitant amount of money stars pay their attorneys.

We, as the general public, are always shocked to learn about our favorite (or least favorite, in this case) actors, musicians, etc. being sentenced hard time in an actual prison. History shows that usually the star is booked, has a hugely publicized court date/trial and either gets sentenced to "time already served" or around 30 days, of which only 7-14 are served. Not to mention the fact that they never go straight from the courthouse to prison. They get about a month to get their affairs in order before having to report to the correctional facility. That part I never understood. Does Average Joe get to take a month off before turning himself in to Deputy Bob to serve his time? Of course not. So why do all of the celebrities?

Maybe this time the prisoner will actually serve the entirety of the sentence? Doubtful. I'm afraid Lady Justice is not always as blind as she'd like us to think.

Emily Dickenson's brother: man-whore

A new story emerged today about the famed poet's family dysfunction. Apparently her married lawyer brother Austin had clandestine meetings with the wife of one of his colleagues on Emily's dining room couch. During these alleged trysts, the famous poet supposedly stayed upstairs in her bedroom, lest she get an eyeful.

Austin, a father of three and considered to be a pillar of the community, must have considered his spinster sister's home the perfect location for a little afternoon lovemaking...on a dining room couch. Honestly, you'd think they could find a bed somewhere in a single woman's two-story house. More concerning is this: how could Emily bear to have guests over for tea and have them sit on said couch without worrying her guests would be sitting right smack on top of her brothers pimp juice? Yuck.

What interested me most in this story is according to the research, it's believed that despite years of an affair taking place in her own home, Emily never actually met her brother's lover. How does that happen? I know times are different now, and women basically did as they were told back then, but I'd like to think that if an affair was going on in my house, I'd be sure to acquaint myself with whoever was doing the dirty on my couch. That way I could tell her to satisfy her sexual urges elsewhere, brother be damned.

If you want to check out the story, see the link below.

New Secrets About Emily Dickenson

Mo Came To Visit

It almost always happens the same way. I'll be hanging out, lazing around, whatever, and I'll get a text message out of the blue. "Guess where I am" is usually the message. Immediately I'm excited because this message means that my Mo, my bestest best friend practically since birth, is coming to visit me.

I drop whatever it is I'm doing, rearrange plans if necessary and make time to see my oldest and dearest of friends. You'd think that my having a guy as a best friend would bother my husband, but surprisingly not. He's nearly completely unjealous, which is sometimes frustrating, but generally good. He's even okay with me running off to go galavanting with Mo without him. So I do.

We can sit in a coffee shop for hours, ride around with no destination, sit on porch steps talking, it doesn't really matter where we go or what we do. It could have been months or even years (which has happened before) since we've seen each other, but it doesn't matter because we pick up right where we left off. Our friendship is one of those timeless relationships. It adapts to whoever we are at the moment.

I noticed on this most recent visit, however, that pieces of me change when I'm with Mo. It's like this former version of myself re-emerges around him. Not an entirely bad thing, but a very strange feeling. My thoughts and actions reflect a different era of my life; I feel like a younger, less responsible, more spontaneous version of me. The Jess who just might say exactly what's on her mind regardless of consequence. The old Jess who would consider doing something completely reckless just because it's fun.

It's frustrating to me because I don't entirely understand why this happens, and only when Mo's around. Maybe my subconscious yearns to cut loose every once in a while, and I am unknowingly just so much more comfortable with Mo that my brain uses his visits as an outlet. Who knows? It's entirely too late and I'm entirely too tired to psychoanalyze myself at the moment. Current version of me does know, though, that I really enjoyed having a visit with Mo, and I hope we get to see each other again soon.

Ah, young love

It wasn't all that long ago that I was a teenager. Some parts of those years I can remember as clearly as if they happened yesterday; passing notes between classes, having ridiculous crushes on upperclassmen, football games, dances, four-hour phone conversations (on home phones because back then no one had cell phones). Other parts, though, are like this distant hazy memory that I can only grasp pieces of. I remember having relationships with boys, but not the way they seem to happen today.

Today's teen romances are like soap operas. I like you, I love you, I hate you, I love him, I love you both, I hate him, I'm sorry, I love you, I don't know if I love you, on and on and on. All withing one week, no less. (If you think I'm being dramatic, obviously you have no teenagers in your immediate family.)

Although that part of my younger life is a tad fuzzy, I do remember myself and my peers having relationships for at least three or four months at a time. Nowadays these kids play musical boyfriend, breaking up and finding new "love" within a matter of days. That's another aspect of today's youth that frustrates me. They date someone for two days and suddenly they're in love. They've found their soul mate. Are you kidding me? As someone who's always around teenagers, I often get asked for advice on relationships. I want to shake them and say, "You have no idea what love is! It takes more than a week to fall in love with someone, because you can't possibly know someone well enough to love them in seven days." And for the love of God, can we PLEASE stop having sex at fourteen and fifteen? It's like this generation is a whole new 60s hippie phase, just on a much more irresponsible level.

Another idea that is so hard for teens to grasp is that they will change in coming years. To tell a young adult that the person they'll be in five years will be so much different than the person they are today is like talking to a brick wall. I know it's a hard concept to grasp, but it's so true. Interests change, horizons are broadened. These kids meet someone in high school and think they'll be compatible forever. Granted, it is possible. I have a handful of friends who started dating in high school and are still together to this day. It's very rare though.

I guess I worry so much about the youth of today now because in twelve years I'll have two teenage daughters. The idea is terrifying. I shudder to think of teenage romance involving my baby girls. I guess I could always send them to an all-girls boarding school....

BIG NEWS ALERT: Megan Fox is a terrible actress.

*I know this is the second post in three days to diss an actress, but I saw this story on MSN and couldn't help myself*

Warner Bros. Bleeds Red Ink From 'Jonah Hex'

So apparently people are surprised to learn that Megan Fox's only talent lies in her bra. My question: WHY?

It was evident in both Transformers movies that the girl was only in the film as window dressing. She was given as few lines as possible, and they kept her skantily clothed throughout the entirety of both in the hopes that people wouldn't notice. Sorry Hollywood, but not all females think she's hot. Angelina Jolie, yes. Megan Fox, no. Am I the only one who saw her in Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen? (I know it's entirely possible since that movie sucked, but hey, I have toddlers who like the Disney channel.) She was dreadful in that movie as well.

So now she's been booted out of Transformers 3 and her supposedly huge summer blockbuster is a bust. People also seem shocked to find out that she's a huge diva, rude to extras, crew and fans. Surprise, surprise. It's usually the famous people who know they have no talent that let stardom go straight to their air-filled heads. They dig their nails into fame as hard as possible because they know it will all be over as soon as everyone realizes they can't act. Or sing, for that matter.

There are a handful of gorgeous young women in Hollywood who could easily replace her, and all without the bitch stigma. Maybe now that she's married to what's-his-name from 90210 she'll retire and pop out some beautiful, evil spawns. We can only hope.

Favorite Movie Quotes of All Time

After spending about an hour this afternoon having a movie quote war with my BFF Mikey, I decided to share some of my all-time favorites here in the land of the conventionally self-involved. Most of these will be on nearly every movie quote list available, although a few of my favorites are from some not-so-popular movies.

1. "I'm your huckleberry." Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday in Tombstone

2. "You're all older! You're even uglier!" Rick Mayall as Drop Dead Fred

3. "It's amazing the clarity that comes with psychotic jealousy." Rupert Everett as George in My Best Friend's Wedding

4. "Lord loves a workin' man. Don't trust whitey. See a doctor and get rid of it." Steve Martin as Navin Johnson in The Jerk

5. "Not that I condone fascism, or any -ism for that matter. -Ism's, in my opinion, are not good." Matthew Broderick in Ferris Bueller's Day Off

6. "Oh my lucky stars - a negro! Brendan Fraser as Adam Weber in Blast From the Past

7. "I will live with you in this hellhole, but I must express myself. If you don't let me gut out this house and make it my own, I will go insane, and I will take you with me!" Catherine O'Hara as Delia Deetz in Beetlejuice

8. "We're gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny effin' Kaye!" Chevy Chase as Clark Griswold in Christmas Vacation

9. "You can't handle the truth!" Jack Nicholson as Col. Nathan Jessup in A Few Good Men

10. "Richard....I didn't know you were a DIK." Ryan Reynolds as Van Wilder

11. "Sandy, don't make me laugh. A-ha. A-ha. A-ha." John Travolta as Danny Zuko in Grease

12. "I'm telling you the devil gypped me for a hamburger!" Brendan Fraser as Elliot Richards in Bedazzled

13. "Mama Cass. Ham sandwich." Mike Myers as Austin Powers

14. "Yo, my brethren. What up with thee?" Jim Carrey as "Bruce Nolan in Bruce Almighty

15. "You are too twisted for color TV!" Shirley Maclaine as Ouiser Boudreaux in Steel Magnolias

16. "Hello, Clarice." Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lector in Silence of the Lambs

17. "You're gonna need a bigger boat." Roy Scheider as Martin Brody in Jaws

18. "It's not that I'm lazy, it's that I just don't care." Ron Livingston as Peter Gibbons in Office Space

19. "Who knows where thoughts come from? They just appear." Rory Cochrane as Lucas in Empire Records

20. "Don't mess with the bull, young man. You'll get the horns." Paul Gleason as Richard Vernon in The Breakfast Club


Those are just a few. I'll post more again soon, I'm sure.

Reasons I really dislike Kristen Stewart

I know I'm not the first person to strongly voice dislike for her, but after sitting through another two hours of Miss Stewart's horrendous acting last night, I feel the need to reiterate.

1. Nearly every time you see her, her mouth is halfway open with her two top front teeth glaring at you (obviously teeth can't glare, but you know what I mean.

2. Panic and/or fear cannot be conveyed by including a stutter with above mentioned tooth assault.

3. Every public appearance of hers I see leaves me wondering if she's an alcoholic, drug addict, a moron or just really angry at everyone.

4. In all of her interviews she seems to be completely ungrateful to the millions of fans who are basically responsible for making her a household name. If the fans don't see the movie, you make no money. Be thankful.

5. She had a role as Jodie Foster's son in Panic Room what, like, eight years ago? (Okay, I'm aware she played the daughter, but you can't honestly say she didn't look like a young boy in that movie.) A Twilight Saga and The Runaways later she's too good to present at the OSCARS? Are you kidding me?

6. Wash your hair. You don't have to do it everyday. I know you're a busy girl, but come on. At least four times a week would be a vast improvement.

7. Is it really necessary to smoke pot on your porch steps while paparazzi are obviously taking pictures of you?

8. I just really really don't like her.

That's all I can think of right now, but give me a few months and I'm sure I'll come up with more!

What a week....and it's only Tuesday!

My weeks in general are pretty boring. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays I work from nine to one at church, then spend the rest of the day at home with my family. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I'm at home with the girls, so I clean and make the most of my free time with them. The weekends are for family time and church. It's all pretty repetitious.

Yesterday, however, my week started on a bad note. My mom called and woke me up early to inform me that my uncle was at the hospital following a heart attack. Huge surprise since he's always been seemingly healthy. After a stint placement and some recuperation he should be fine, but Monday was a bust.

This morning I had to be up at 4:45 so that my girls, my cousin and I could be dressed and ready to pick up my sister and head to New Orleans for my mother's 7am spine surgery. She was hit by a dump truck loaded with gravel a couple of years ago, and after trying various therapies it was determined that surgery was necessary. Three hour surgery went well according to doctor, and after being able to see mom afterwards we came back home. An attempt at afternoon nap was foiled by my two year old. Apparently waking up at 5 am has no effect on her whatsoever.

So now my cousin, sister and I are watching Twilight and New Moon in preparation of the midnight premiere of Eclipse that we'll be seeing tonight. After waiting in line for approximately three hours, of course. I am already so exhausted, I have no idea how I'm going to stay awake. Maybe excitement for the movie will give me a second wind. And a third. And maybe a fourth.....

80s Movies

Kids today just don't appreciate a good movie like they used to. I am a movie freak. I've spent more money on my dvd/blu ray collection than I have on my truck (which is almost paid off). My favorite genre is comedy, but my preference is 80s movies in general. There are so many film treasures from the eighties that young people today have never even heard of. It's a tragedy if you ask me.

Take my younger cousin, for instance. Seventeen year old. High school senior. Smart, witty, generally good taste in music and television. Ask her about her favorite movies, though, and you hit a dead end. This kid prefers the awful movie remakes that have swept the big screen in recent years to the originals. Okay, so maybe Rob Zombie's Halloween was good, but is it better than John Carpenter's version? Absolutely not!

I have tried relentlessly to broaden my cousin's taste in movies. I recommend movies (usually mid-90s or earlier), praising the dialogue, soundtrack, storyline, etc. She'll sit through an average of twenty minutes of said movie and decide she's bored. Really?! Interview With the Vampire is boring? Ferris Bueller? Can't Buy Me Love? BEETLEJUICE?! I just want to throw a shoe at her.

The worst is trying to explain why comedies were so much better in the 80s. Obviously due to rating restrictions being so much more strict back then, filmmakers had to be creative. Get the hilarity out of a story without filling the film with naked girls and raunchy sex scenes (so maybe Porky's was an exception to this theory, but who's going to complain about that one?).

Oh and don't even get me started on horror films! Back in the day you didn't have to see brain matter and ooze-dripping zombies to be afraid. It was a mind game. Just knowing what happened was scary enough. Now it's nothing but blood and guts. Not to mention TERRIBLE acting by scantily-clothed dimwits. The best part of the remake of House of Wax was when Paris Hilton bit the dust, and the only reason for that is because that was when she stopped being in the film.

I just find myself disappointed over and over again at these ridiculous movies that come out to such massive receptions, make billions of dollars and are just awful. Put Young Frankenstein or Breakfast Club back in theaters for a month. That would be money worth spending.

Life.

I've been out of the blogging loop for a few months, so I thought I'd take this post and play catch-up to whoever is willing to read...

Next month I'll hit the one-year mark of working at my church. I still love it. It's a rewarding position for me because I can utilize various skills in so many different areas. My boss, the Pastor, is one of the most encouraging and supportive people I've ever worked for. My work load has been steadily increasing over the past few months as members of the church have realized my talents and abilities, causing them to assign new projects to me. Somewhere in there I was apparently promoted from the Pastor's secretary to the Church secretary. Not that it's a bad thing, I just now seem to have so many more people telling me what to do. It can get a little trying sometimes.

My kids are now two and a half years and eighteen months old. The eldest thinks she's the boss of the baby, which leads to a great deal of time outs. I'm not the biggest fan of "time out" punishment since I was raised on the switch discipline. You know, mom tells you to go outside and pick out a switch off of a bush. You bring the switch inside so mom can whip you with it. It was a mind game, and it was effective. My children are really well-behaved, which is something I'm proud to say honestly. Obviously with toddlers you have moments of exasperation and feel the urge to pull your hair out (or just run away), but for the most part my children are funny, curious, and really smart. I worry sometimes about how good of a job I do as a mother, but I think that's normal. My husband is a great father, so he helps out a great deal as well.

I'm excited to say that I will be a college student again come August 18th. I have been debating going back to finish school for the past few years, but with marriage, babies, bills, etc., it just kept getting pushed back to a dark cobweb-filled space in my mind. One day in the beginning of April I was talking to my younger cousin (who will be a high school senior this fall) about how exciting it is to graduate and go to college, when I realized how jealous I was of her. So young, so many opportunities right in front of her. At that moment I said to myself, "What are you waiting for?!" I went home, filled out the financial aid stuff and applied for readmission. Exactly one month later I received my acceptance in the mail. Got advised, scheduled my classes and even decided on a major. I've been so excited that I've already bought all of my supplies. My husband has been so extremely supportive, and he also says he's psyched because he's married to a college chick, which is "hot" to him. Hahaha.

I'm a little apprehensive about how I'm going to balance being a wife, mother, student and secretary all at the same time. I have a great suppport system, so I know I shouldn't worry too much. We'll just have to see how it goes...

Motherhood

For centuries motherhood has been considered one of the most difficult and rewarding "jobs" a woman can have. There have been discussions, books, and classes about being a mother. Mothers get their own holiday. Celebrities are either praised or bashed in the press as a result of their mothering abilities. Some women choose to be stay-at-home moms, others take on the task of career and mother. There are young mothers, old mothers, adoptive mothers, foster mothers, and even godmothers (the last of which doesn't really count unless it's a birthday or holiday).

Ever since I was a teenager I knew I wanted to be a mother someday. My two younger half sisters were born when I was 10 and 12, and after helping take care of them - albeit only two weeks out of the year - I figured I would be pretty good at it. I spent a great deal of time with younger cousins and babies at church. I even nannied a child my senior year of high school. Based on what I considered to be a respectable amount of time caring for children, I assumed motherhood would be a breeze for me.

I never presumed to be an authority on child care, so whenever having conversations (ie: debates) about said subject I would give my opinion but never insinuate that I knew more than the women who actually had children. Obviously I had made decisions beforehand about how I would raise my children - rules I would enforce, which areas I would be lenient, etc. More than once after my mother and I had argued I promised myself that I would not do "this" or "that" when I had kids. In the early stages of our relationship, my husband and I discussed what we did and did not want for our possible future children. We discussed raising them in church; we talked about schools. We agreed on many different areas such as punishment, encouragement and taking interest in their hobbies.

When we found out I was pregnant with our first child, suddenly everything we knew (or thought we knew) about child care suddenly seemed insufficient. We were actually going to be responsible for the raising and molding of a person. We would influence their beliefs and outlooks. It felt like a lot of pressure. I was still confident though, that I would have no problems with the day-to-day care and management of a child and any future children.

Our first daughter, Hayden, was born January 2008. We happened to be staying with my mother and stepfather during that time, so my mother was right there with me, helping me adjust to being a new mom. Feedings, diaper changes, naps, play time. The hardest adjustment was definitely the sudden lack of sleep. Again, mom stepped in and kept the baby a night here and there so we could rest. God bless her. I had hardly even begun to adjust when we found out I was pregnant with baby number two. Since Hayden was still pretty easy to handle, we figured "hey, what's one more?" Ha. Because babies go through so many changes their first year and we were so busy with Hayden, it seemed like Anna got here in no time flat. She was born in December 2008. Our two and only children, born eleven months apart.

2009 for us was pretty smooth, as far as managing two babies goes. Anna came out a great sleeper, so she was a breeze. Hayden was sleeping through the night at a year old, so we got a great deal more sleep at night. It took a while for Hayden to adjust to this new little baby. She didn't quite understand why she couldn't play with Anna like she did with her baby dolls. We fell into a nice little routine, and I thanked God that I wasn't always fighting the urge to pull my hair out or run away screaming like some mothers claimed to. Then Hayden turned two.

To be honest, I never expected Hayden to go through the "terrible twos" phase. She has been, since her birth, one of the happiest babies I've ever known. I'm not just saying that because she's mine. Other people can vouch for me. She has been the smiling, dancing, plays-well-with-others, "oh, she's such a good baby" child. Never fusses in public, never mean to other kids. Then about two weeks before her birthday, something changed. She started bullying Anna by hitting or pushing her, stealing toys and being extra jealous of her. Suddenly she didn't want to mind as well.

On top of Hayden's small personality adjustments, Anna turned one and seemed to suddenly realize that she's now big enough to get into everything, throw mini-tantrums and fight back when Hayden bullies her (I don't entirely blame her on the last one). My girls went from easy and happy all the time, to easy and happy most of the time and the rest of the time making me want to pull my hair out and run away screaming.

Don't get me wrong here. I absolutely adore my children. I love being a mother. Ninety-nine percent of the time I find myself fighting back tears watching them play (nicely) together, when one of them climbs up in my lap or when I watch them sleeping. Random moments when I just feel overwhelmed at how precious they are and how much I love them. I thank God every single day for them. Sometimes, though, I just get so frustrated with them. They'll be having one of their days, and I'll be having one of mine, and I'll get fed up with them fuss too much.

Almost immediately I feel terrible. I feel like an awful mom. The guilt weighs on me and I promise myself that I will be more patient. I'm sure as far as "fussing" goes, I'm one of the less fussy people I know. I'm pretty patient with people in general. I'm very slow to anger, and always quick to get over it. It's like my kids just know how to push my buttons. Well, them and my husband. I wonder if I'm alone on this one. Do any other moms go through this? Maybe by Mother's Day I'll have figured it out.

Ah, motherhood.

Saints in the Superbowl

The main topic of discussion around here lately is the New Orleans Saints. For the first time in franchise history they're going to the Superbowl. This is a huge deal for many different reasons. Most news stations claim the success of this season is aiding the continued effort to "rebuild" New Orleans post-Katrina. I'll admit the morale in the crescent city has improved greatly due to our beloved Saints.

I think it's hard for people who aren't sports fans (and most people outside the gulf coast region) to understand how a football team could have such a drastic effect on people. It's not really something that can be explained. For many it's just so nice to have something positive happen here after so many years of dealing with the lasting effects from Katrina, corrupt politicians and the high crime rates. There will still be hurricanes, liars in office and murders, but for just a few weeks we can forget about all of that and enjoy the high of knowing our team is great. It gives us something to cherish. We can all sit around and talk about the moment Hartley kicked the game-winning fieldgoal in overtime to send our boys to the Superbowl.

I went to Walmart the day after the championship game. The greeter at the door had a huge grin on her face. When I walked through the doors she said, "Who dat!" I smiled back and said, "Yes, ma'am!" I'd say over half the customers were donning Saints t-shirts and jerseys. Everyone just smiled at each other. The feeling in the air was strange. It was as if we were all friends, celebrating this wonderful news together. Our team, previously known as the Aints, had finally achieved the unbelievable.

After the best season since the beginning of the Saints, the WHO DATS are headed to Miami to face the Indianapolis Colts. Oddly enough, the Colts are my other favorite team. I've been a Manning fan since his UT days. On any other day I'd root for the Colts. Not against the Saints though. Although I'd be disappointed if our "team of destiny" lost in the Superbowl, it won't sting as badly if it's handed to us by Peyton and former LSU player Joseph Addai. Either way, it's gonna be a party in the MIA.