Saturday, February 5, 2011

Overheard at the Rainforest

After waiting out several Snowpocalypses/Snomageddons/SnOMG!s/Snowtorius B.I.G.'s/Snownamis inside our cozy house, we decided we needed to venture out into nature. And by "nature", I mean artificially constructed habitats in a temperature-controlled environment. We met my parents and sister at The Rainforest, along with what I'm guessing was the majority of cabin-fevered children and parents in the Greater Cleveland area. But everyone was in a good mood! And nice! I think most of the adults had more fun than the children. See if you can pick out which of the following quotes were said by children and which by fully-grown adults. Bonus points if you can pick out which ones were said by the upstanding members of my family.

This blog doubles as a photo essay on the thesis "Why I need a new camera". Lucky you!



"Wow! Check out the bulge on that guy!"


"IT'S GONNA POOP ON ME!"


"He's too small for such a big stick."


"If I'd wanted to smell shit all day I would have just stayed at home and sat next to the Diaper Genie."


"That monkey is hairy like you!"



"I would eat the bugs off of you if you asked me to."



- "Why is it sniffing its butt?"
-"...because it smells good? HAHAHAHA!"













Sunday, January 30, 2011

The Humble Pie Awards

This week, a few of my lady friends are blogging on the same question:

What is the best advice you received but never thought you’d use?

Fun question. To me, these would be "Eat Your Words" moments. When you find yourself doing something you never thought you'd do. Classic example would be when you really actually truly turn into your mother/father. Or, when you hear advice over and over and tell yourself you'd never get into a situation that would require that advice (always wear nice, clean underwear because you never know who's going to see it), and then of course, you wish you would have taken that advice (you trip over your massive pile of laundry and the next thing you know you're in an ambulance wearing a bikini bottom as underwear).

Now, to be clear, I don't have regrets in my life. At least, I don't have regrets of anything I actually DID. I do regret that I did not have a DVR until last year. Regrets are more of "I wish I HAD" instead of "I wish I HADN'T".

I think these "Eat My Words" moments tend to be the most memorable, hilarious, craziest, saddest, poignant moments in life. Good and bad. Here are some highlights of those moments from my life. These are the times when I thought "Damn, I wish I would have just listened to Aunt Nancy" or "I never thought I'd hear those words come out of my mouth." But I do not wish for a second that they did not happen.

I present to you, The Humble Pie Awards.

Category:  College
Winner:  "Know your alcoholic cut-off point, and have a friend that will absolutely cut you off before you get to that point."
Maybe I just have shitty friends (or HILARIOUS friends), but I am pretty sure that they all conspired to get me past my cut-off point as soon as possible. Many people simply pass out when they reach their cut-off point. This would be very helpful. It is hard to drunk-dial or accidentally pee in your suitcase if you are face-down on the bathroom floor of that guy you met in Understanding Music Class. I do not pass out when I hit my cut-off point. No. I hit that point, and then my brain mistakenly thinks that I have superhuman physical abilities as well as really, really interesting things to say. Plus, fictional words are real, and I know how to get everyone there. But, of course this is not the case, and my friends enjoy watching the HOURS of hilarity ensue. I have no recollection of these hours of craziness. Absolutely none. I only have photographic proof and the insane stories of what I did while I was "blacked out".
On one such occasion, I pretended to be passed out so that my friends would put me in a bedroom to sleep. But I was not passed out; it was all part of my scheme to get to a magical land. I was convinced that the closet of this bedroom was the passage to Bag End (of hobbit fame) and I really wanted to visit. So once I was left alone, I ransacked the closet and tried to break down the wall to get to Frodo. My fingernails were bloody by the time they found me. When asked what the hell I was doing, I responded simply "I'm trying to get us to Bag End." I was really into Lord of the Rings then.
Apparently, I have a thing against closets when I'm really drunk. While in Italy, after a night of drinking, everyone retired to their bedrooms to sleep. We woke up to this:


That's the content of my entire closet, and AN ENTIRE CLOSET DOOR, next to my bed. And a broken lamp. Also, every window of the room was open (no screens in Italy), and the desk was moved across the room, as if I had tried to climb on it to jump out of the open window. Good thing I am not actually physically gifted, so I couldn't get up there. I'm really glad I was able to keep my shoes together though.
Now that I actually have a child entrusted to my care, I have instructed anyone that drinks with me to CUT ME THE F*CK OFF! My college self wouldn't believe it. (My college self would also have a sad about the state of my boobs right now, too.)
Category:  Wedding Planning and Weddings
Winner:  "On your wedding day, don't have more than one drink. You want to remember your day!"
Considering what happens when I have one-too-many drinks, you'd think I'd be all about layin off the booze on my wedding. You'd be wrong. But I DO wish that maybe I hadn't tried to counteract the effects of the alcohol by drinking an inordinate amount of water...and then danced for 4 hours like a crazed maniac. Upon arrival of our hotel room after our reception, I locked myself in the bathroom, stripped down naked, then peed and VOMITTED (at the same time) for 5 minutes straight. And my husband still wanted to have sex with me. Is this a sign of how much he loves me, or how drunk he was?
He must have been drunk, because THAT^  is not attractive.
I think this advice should be amended to mean ANY beverage. It was the damn water that did me in.

Category:  Love and Relationships (Drama)
Winner:  "Don't go to bed angry"
I'm only putting this in here because it is poop advice. You can't fight very well if you are sleeping, and it's also hard to fight if you are well-rested and don't want someone else to smell your morning breath. I say, go to bed angry and wake up ready to fight fair. After you brush your teeth.
So, I'm daring the Universe to make me eat my words on this.
Category:  Love and Relationships (Comedy)
Winner:  "Some people ask the secret of our long marriage. We take time to go to a restaurant two times a week. A little candlelight, dinner, soft music and dancing. She goes Tuesdays, I go Fridays." -Henry Youngman
When I first met my husband, we were inseparable. We spent most mornings curled up in my bed in my dorm room, eating Egg McMuffins and listening to the same CD on repeat, because we were too lazy to get up. And then, 8 years happened. Now, if we are together for that long we tend to fight about ridiculous things (you put my socks in THAT DRAWER?!?!) and it doesn't end well. Going out alone, me on dates with my girlfriends, him to play poker...this is the key to a successful marriage, I think. Mostly because the sex later that night when we regroup in the bedroom tends to be hotter if I get hit on by a guy at the bar and get to say "I'm married". Sssshhh, that's not weird.
And another thing. I do have to eat my words regarding Egg McMuffins. I used to think they were the best muffin. This is CLEARLY not the case. Sausage McMuffin with Egg is surely the best in the McMuffin family of muffins.
Category:  Pregnancy and Parenting (Drama)
Winner:  How to deal with a premature baby.
While I was pregnant with Finn, I read this column:
I was not afraid of labor. I deal with pain pretty well. Women give birth all the time. No big deal.  I never really paid attention to the stories of NICU's and breathing problems and weight gain problems. That stuff would never happen to me. And then...Finn happened. After he was born, I thought there was no way I'd be able to get through it all without being checked into the hospital myself.
But I did it. Well, WE did it. And it was so much worse, and so much more amazing, than I could have ever expected. I wish that all the advice dealing with babies in the hospitals did not have a reason to exist.
Cutest NICU graduate ever.

Category:  Pregnancy and Parenting (Comedy)
Winner:  Help your child gain weight by giving him fatty foods. Lots and lots of fatty foods.
Here are some words that have never been associated with me or my husband: Svelte. Willowy. Lean. We are more likely to be described as "curvy" or "cuddly". Our child, though, is tall and skinny. I was all ready to be a crazy healthnut mom, and then I got orders to fatten him up! I don't know if I've ever been more prepared for a mission in my life. When we feed him vegetables, we get to cover them in butter and oil first. We get to buy whole milk, and whole yogurt, and whole EVERYTHING. Anything can be made better by adding cheese. Dipping sauce add calories - and that's a good thing. Bacon is approximate 2/3 fat? BRING IT.

It seems fitting to end this post on bacon, because my key advice to everyone is always to eat more bacon. Be sure to also check out everyone else's advice on the blog hop.





Friday, January 21, 2011

Prophet of doom.

Look what was happening while I was posting about my ski lift phobia:

http://www.wkyc.com/news/local/news_article.aspx?storyid=170984&catid=45

I am too afraid to see what would happen if I posted about my fear of objects sitting precariously on edges of tables, or things getting sucked out of airplane windows.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

I am totally rational except for when I'm insane.

I saw the most disturbing image on the news the other day:


A new ride is coming to Cedar Point. A new ride that makes me want to poo in my pants, even thinking about it. Thing is unnatural. A spinning swing of terror, hundreds of feet in the air. There is not enough scream in my lungs for this.

Now, Cedar Point and I go way back. We are good friends. I am a roller coaster enthusiast. On my childhood bedroom wall, along with posters of Jonathon Taylor Thomas and Jordan Knight, were photos of me on my favorite roller coasters. But this is no roller coaster. This "amusement" should not be trusted.

I have this irrational fear. I hate the feeling of having nothing underneath me. (I would love the feeling of having Jon Hamm underneath me.) Driving over bridges? Not without mild hyperventilation. Climbing on the monkey bars on the playground? No thanks. Balance beam in gymnastics? I blamed my lack of coordination for failing at that, but really I was afraid because THERE WAS ONLY AIR UNDER THERE AAAAAAAHHH!

I like to think I am a fairly rational person. And I am not really afraid of much else. Really, I do understand that these structures are engineered to stand up and it's ME with the problem. So I deal with it. I drive over bridges and I will play on the playground with my son, and everything will be OK. But there is one thing that I truly think is the most evil, horrifying invention that has ever been on this earth:  the ski lift.


torture machine

In the ski lift I do not trust! Have you ever looked at how the ski lift is connected to the wire?!?!?! Don't. Don't look. If you look, you might pass out of fear, and then you will fall out of the ski lift because you are only "secured" to your seat a bar that stays down by GRAVITY ALONE...and you will splat and DIE on the ground below you.

A few years ago, I went to Kennywood amusement park with friends. I was so excited to finally experience all of the historic rides. And also, funnel cakes. Imagine my horror when I realized that to even enter the park, we had to ride down a mountain on a ski lift. I cried. And I think my fear was transmitted to my friends, because even they seemed a little nervous as we made our descent.


The scariest thing at an amusement park should be the amount of calories in your snacks.

I think the people at Kennywood know that this is the most terrifying ride at their park, because I spotted little things told me that they tried to make it even more frightening than it already is. Beneath the path of ski lift are just a few things that insure you will be killed, or at least gravely injured, should you fall out. A few roads pass underneath, with cars travelling at high speeds. There are piles of construction materials with many jagged edges;  bricks, concrete blocks, broken I-beams, sheet metal. I can't be certain, but I am pretty certain I saw a few crocodiles, and red hot lava. Maybe some quicksand, I don't know.

Point being:  Cedar Point already has a ski lift. And the "normal" swings that you can find at fairs and carnivals. They already have the terror covered. This new swing is just a slap in the face to someone like me. But when I go to Cedar Point this summer, I think I will eventually conquer this new ride, because I am a rational person. But you will NEVER get me on the ski lift.



Monday, January 17, 2011

Dopplegangers

I have been told, a number of times, by a variety of people, that I resemble a princess. Flattering, right? Unfortunately, these "compliments" are referencing an animated princess. MORE unfortunately, they are referencing an animated ogre princess. Yes, my doppleganger is Princess Fiona, of Shrek fame.

If I had to choose an animated "princess" to be my doppleganger, I would choose Belle from Beauty and the Beast. She's pretty with that girl-next-door-je-ne-sais-quoi. With her nose stuck in a book! Like me and my nook! "Little town...it's a quiet village. Everyday, like the one before! Little town, full of little people. Waking up to say bonjour. BONJOUR! bonjour bonjour bonjour BONJOUR!"

But I digress. At first, when I was told of the striking resemblence between me and the...ahem, oversized green cartoon character, I was a little offended. But...I get it. Dammit, I do kinda look like that bitch.


bitch


slightly more attractive bitch

Our eyes are the same color. Chubby cheeks. Lips are the same (seductively supple) shape. I even had red hair in the past.

I've made peace with my doppleganger, and I will not be offended if you point it out to me. Especially now that I have realized that we have two Shrek characters in this household. Fame and fortune shall come our way, I am sure! Observe:


puss in boots


child in socks

Amirite? I mean, how could you say no to that face? How? Good thing for Finn he looks like the cutest of them ALL. 

Well now we obviously need the Shrek Trifecta, or my life will not be complete. Shrek needs to grow a beard. Or...have a beard...drawn on his face. However that happens. I have never seen my husband as a clean-shaven ogre, and that just will not do. Until then, he will have to feel left out. I think he already knows who the most attractive people are around here, anyway.



Saturday, January 15, 2011

Hypothesaurus


I have this theory.

I have this theory about dinosaurs, and people. Not dinosaurs and people living together, because we know that is ridiculous. Nay, this theory regards the correlation between cool people and love of the prehistoric badasses.


Think about the greatest people you know. Now think about their wardrobe. Do they own at least one t-shirt with a dinosaur on it? (While mythical, dragons do count.) Do they often recite lines from Jurassic Park? Were they rooting for the T-Rex when you saw the fairly awful remake of King Kong together? I am sure you are thinking "Why, yes, my amazing friend DOES seem to like dinosaurs quite a bit." Because that's it! That's the theory: Awesome people and dino love are highly correlated.


Now, for some reason, being an adult and loving dinosaurs is somewhat frowned upon. I know...sad face. Being over the age of 11 does not make velociraptors any less sweet, but such is the state of our sad society. Therefore my theory has evolved over time. If someone claims to have loved dinosaurs when they were a child, they are also probably pretty cool. I would suggest asking this for this detail immediately upon meeting.


I am no statistician or anything, so I can't say whether this is a causal relationship. I mean, does loving dinosaurs MAKE you cool? I don't know. I mean, obviously, it's a cool thing to do, but there are other qualities that make a person cool. The love of bacon, for one. The ability to buy you beers at happy hour, another. Nonetheless, I am going to make SURE my kid loves dinosaurs. I suggest you do the same, because you never know. I mean this theory is fullproof. You don't want them to be screwed down the line by having them like horses, or something. LAME.