so perhaps i was a bit hasty in my earlier impression…

Ok, so Philadelphia isn’t all bad. There are some nice parts and some are even pretty picturesque. However, i have never seen a city where there is such blatant disregard for any litter laws (if they have them here). The strange part is that it is so filthy that you expect only gang-bangers, druggies and homeless to be in the neighborhood, but instead you just see normal middle-class people waking the dog, driving past and throwing the leftover dinner out the window, or walking the kids to school. weird. enough about gross things…

i take that back. Today we went to a museum of medical oddities here in philly called the Mutter Museum. (pronounced mooder. just google it). I was in a medical museum in Asia, so I’ve seen some nasty canned body parts in my time, and being married to AJ, we of course went the Bodies exhibit when it was in town, but i still reserve the right to get grossed out and mentally scarred when walking past a jar with conjoined stillborn twins on one side and a giant colonishy thingamajig.

anyway…

Today’s post goes out to AJ. Five years ago tomorrow we said  I Do to each other for the first of many times.

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You should already know this…

Dear Random-Father-Grocery-Shopping-At-Safeway-Tonight,

Please do not encourage your daughter to wash her hands off using the mister that’s spraying directly over the broccoli I’m planning on getting. Just because it’s water, doesn’t mean it’s meant for washing hands.

As for the rest of you…please tell me this was an isolated incident. My faith  in mankind is having serious issues in the area of public hygiene right now, and I need some assurance that I’m not the only one that thinks its gross to wash your hands off and shake them dry using the mister that turns on in the produce area.

It’s a cruel, dark world when I begin to question ever eating a sample again.

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I do have standards, you know…

Here’s one thing I won’t eat: Brussel Sprouts.

I never really remember having to eat brussel sprouts when I was growing up. I know that my mom planted them in the garden one year, but I don’t remember ever actually eating them. I do know that she never grew them after that.

A few years ago I figured out why. AJ and I were in the grocery store trying to think of an interesting vegetable to pair with a steak, (new york strip for those of you who wonder about that sort of thing) and we came across Brussel Sprouts.

“Have you ever had Brussel Sprouts? I haven’t.”

“No, I wonder what they taste like…a cabbage maybe?”

We took a whole bag of those cute tiny cabbages home, steamed them to perfection and served them with butter and seasonings alongside our steak.

First bite: Involuntary gag.

Second bite: dutiful chewing.

Third bite: spat into the napkin.

Here’s what I’ve always wondered since then; is there a scenario where brussel sprouts taste good? All you vegetable-haters can keep your comments to yourselves here–I love vegetables in all shapes and sizes…except small, round, green, and leafy.

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and why?

I bought a box of Cap’n Crunch today. Don’t ask me why; it was on sale and I’ve never had it before. I have discovered two things. One, it is impossibly hard to find a picture of the back of this cereal box to show you, and two, Cap’n Crunch and all the kids on the back of the box look completely wigged out on sugar. Which brings me to my question; why would any parent want their child to remotely resemble the sugar-crazed cretins on the back of the box? They don’t just look like a bunch of happy cartoon kids playing on a ship, they look like they’ve got sugar fever, and the only cure…is more sugar, as they maniacally work out on the ship’s obstacle course with lolling tongues and bugged out eyes. Please, that can’t be healthy.

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I need to know

have you ever tasted cat poop?

Someone who shall remain nameless at his insistent begging, was telling me a story about eating a warm chocolate chip cookie when he was younger. He said that he was also petting the new kitten and proceeded to lick the chocolate off that he found on his hand before he realized that it was probably cat poop. (The cat wasn’t so good about leaving all of it’s business in the kitty litter box) He also may or may not have crunched down on a piece of kitty litter.

Here’s the thing; he’s not sure. He doesn’t remember what it tasted like–chocolate or something else.

riddle me this:

i need to know

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quote of the day

“It’s like the perfect kiss: you have a mouth-full of spaghetti, and I have a mouth-full of french bread!”

I didn’t say it was appropriate.

Overheard today at costco:

“…and you know it’s good because Ranch Dressing has been around for a long time!”

Yeah, the ancient pharaohs used it on their…food. The Roman Empire? Caesar sent it in vats to feed his troops. Don’t get me started on the real reason King Henry VIII killed that Boleyn chick. That’s right, she ate her salads with Thousand Island dressing.

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Pinata Post

I called it that because this one is a mixed bag of goodies. Here we go.

First off, I forgot to mention yesterday that in the midst of my shameful bowling episode, Violet came to my rescue and peed all over me so that we had to leave. There’s a first for everything I guess. She had had a sippycup  with watered-down juice on the way to the bowling alley and that stuff went through her way faster than I anticipated. I was standing there holding her and the next thing I knew, my stomach was wet and there was a curious dripping on the toe of my rented bowling shoe. No, we didn’t tell them as we returned it. Is that bad?

Secondly, my 4th brother broke his wrist, and the quack Dr. they took him to decided to put him in a cast from the middle of his bicep to his hand. A broken WRIST!On second thought, maybe this Doc knew my family and my brother’s propensity for danger. Hmmm…I take back the “quack” part.  Anyway, as soon as he walked in the door today withhis new cast we were armed to greet him with markers. The first three quotes to grace his arm?

“Given is a sexy beast.”

“GIRL MAGNET!”

“Blessong is cooler.” (Blessong is his younger brother)

sorry Mom and Dad, you have to admit it’s funny.

And now, in today’s relevant news: National Doughnut Day. I hope you ate one. I did. AJ made me do it….AJ and maybe me. I probably shouldn’t have because there are plenty of times that I eat doughnuts when it isn’t  National Doughnut Day, but when you have some of the most amazing doughnuts available to the public five minutes from your house…

Lastly (Is that a word? Will one of you get back to me on that?), this is mostly an explanation for my husband as to why it takes me so long to shower in the women’s locker room at the sports club that we just joined. (Let me tell you, EX-PEN-SIVE!) Here’s a rundown of everything I do in the order that I do it as soon as I enter the room.

  1. Cover my eyes. seriously, the only people that should be modest in a changing room are the only ones that aren’t! I have no beef with naked people…they just gross me out.
  2. Go to my locker and get out my towel and switch out my shoes for flipflips. Did I mention I’m a major germ-a-phobe?
  3. Go to a bathroom stall to undress and wrap myself in said towel. Don’t touch the towel to anything.
  4. Carry all my things back to my locker and put them in my bag. The trick here is to not bend over too far; see above point.
  5. Walk over to the shower stall and shower; being careful not to touch anything.
  6. Next is the precarious process of drying myself without (a) touching anything, or (b) accidentally flashing some old lady who probably can’t see that far anyway.
  7. Rewrap myself in the towel and head back to the locker to extract my clean clothes.
  8. Once back in the bathroom stall, I dress. Only this time with the handicap of slightly damp and tacky skin which makes this whole process much slower. Again with the whole not touching anything.
  9. Almost done. See, you’re getting tired too! I told you it took me a long time to get ready.
  10. Finally, put the wet towel in a plastic bag and into my gym bag,
  11. deodorant,
  12. lotion,
  13. foundation,
  14. curl eyelashes,
  15. mascara,
  16. hair.
  17. Go back to locker and try to fit everything in the gym bag which seems to have mysteriously shrunk, and this is inconvenient because i have more stuff now.
  18. aaaaand….TIME!

See, he thinks I waste all my time on long showers or the sauna. I wish!

Later, Ya’ll

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DQ

“When is the health inspector going to get around to closing this Dairy Queen down finally?”

“When they go inside.”

AJ and I were sitting in our car after church and the church parking lot is right across from Dairy Queen. Picture if you will, the oldest fast food restaurant in town where each year has left another layer of visible grime and invisible germs. The sad part is, they don’t care. It’s like a hospital gown. most people wear hospital gowns tightly wrapped around them while holding the back  scrunched closed with their hands. This Dairy Queen is like a hairy old man who doesn’t even care that he’s missing the back half of his robe. If you’ve got it–flaunt it, right?

Anyway, happy mother’s day to me.

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Did you ever know you were my hero…

Ok, so first off, this is not a story I should be telling you. Secondly, if you get grossed out easily, please stop reading–that way you can’t complain to me when you realize that you will never swim in lake goodwin again.

All the characters will remain nameless. So apparently this happened like last summer or something. No, I can’t…I shouldn’t. Okay, super short version:

Imagine you are treading water in Lake Goodwin on a perfect summer day. Then imagine you are surrounded by turds…lots of turds. Now imagine your desperation as you try to swim away from the poop which also happens to be your own because you were out jetskiing in the middle of the lake and you got stuck and had to go bad. Imagine your two friends on the jetski are desperately trying to get it away from you because your poop got caught by the current and floated up on the foot boards of the jetski. Eventually they give up and swim away on their own. Imagine your shock and surprise at not realizing that if you pooped in the water, your poop would float up to the top…where your face is. Imagine trying to doggy-paddle with your own poop bumping against your neck. I’m done. I’m also done with ever swimming in lake goodwin.

In other news…completely unrelated, Violet and AJ gave each other the hiccups. I’m not sure how, but they were chasing each other around the room just now and then they each got hiccups.

This was a nice day. Great weather. Great birthday…incidentally, for the lake pooper himself.

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I think the tooth fairy skipped our house…

Violet still has no teeth. nada.

New Rule (for everyone): Just Because the Carpool Lane is Not the Other Other Fast Lane, Doesn’t Mean it’s the Other Other Slow Lane.  I’m just saying.

You ever think up new things and wish you could make your ideas a reality? Like flying cars, for instance. Mine? Fart Bells. Thats right, Fart Bells. I have this theory that if everyone knew how much everyone around them in public farted, people might fart less in public. or something like that. Here’s how it would work: A bell over the intercom or on the wall that goes off anytime anyone in the room farts. People could maintain their anonymity, but we’d all know that someone had just farted. seriously, if you’d been at my family’s house tonight–that bell would have been ringing off the hook!

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Gross personal habits

not that I have any, but as I was sitting here playing with my “abc” gum waiting to use the computer, I realized that I probably do–I’m just not aware of them. Seriously though, I just realized that every time (almost) I chew gum, I take it out of my mouth to throw it away, but before I can, I play with it. Stretch it out…make funny string shapes…is that gross?

yeah…speaking  of gross. Today I was listening to talk radio, and the host was completely flabbergasted by a new product he’d just heard about. I can’t remember the name, but it was some sort of product that allows women to use the restroom while standing up. wait: i just found it here. Part of me says, “Sick!” and the other part of me remembers how many times I’ve had to use a public restroom and wished dearly that I didn’t have to sit down. Anyway, the best part about this product, is their slogan.

“Don’t Take Life Sitting Down!”

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Baby Rule

I’m certain of this: just because that spot of gunk stuck to the carpet won’t come up with the vacuum cleaner, doesn’t mean it stands a chance with the determined, tenacious picking of a patient baby. Eww.

Murphy’s Law: Just because a baby is sick and cranky and tired, doesn’t mean she will want to sleep at all. At all.

Things I Wish I’d Known Before: She’s better at this…yes, I’m being outsmarted by a baby.

 

Quote of the day: “Hmm! I have a white chest hair that I can see!” Thank you, AJ.

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Ugly Food

I realized today how many of my own recipes make ugly, gross looking food that tastes amazing.  Case in point: for lunch I made Avocado Tuna Salad. Freaking amazing, but it resembles a grey-green chunky slime.

1/2 avocado mashed

1/2 tomato diced

1 can tuna drained

handful chopped cilantro

2 T lime juice

Salt and Pepper to taste

dash balsamic vinegar

2ish T. Mayo (NOT miracle whip)

Eat with corn chips.

Here’s why i don’t have a problem with eating ugly food. 1: its fun. 2. when you bring it to potlucks you get to bring it all home. Is that wrong?

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We did our taxes today…

Apparently, babies make a big difference in tax returns. Who’d have thought?

Breaking News: If you feed a baby a blackberry-banana smoothie, their “spit-up” is the same color as the smoothie. Purple Urple! The good news is, she was just as entertained by the smoothie the second time around. I found her sitting on the carpet swishing around a little purple puddle with her fingers.

In other news, C.S Lewis is always better the second time around. We’re currently reading his space trilogy, and I’m finding it much more interesting than I did at 13 or 14.

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ten reasons i hate hot tubs

  1. They always smell funny–like chlorine, and after a while it makes my eyes burn.
  2. they constantly recirculate dead skin cells and hair.
  3. relatively small amount of water + multiple people = not enough water to properly dilute grossness.
  4. they never ever ever get cleaned properly.
  5. if you use a public one at a hotel/sports club/resort, the most frequent users of a hot tub are old men with questionable hygiene practices.
  6. awkward silences. ’nuff said. people don’t get into hot tubs to strike up conversations with strangers–they get in there to relax and be quiet. usually. there’s always someone who doesn’t know this rule.
  7. friends who have them forget how rarely normal people get the opportunity to be in a hot tub and don’t invite said normal people over as much as they should.
  8. they always end up free on craigslist which makes me think 2 things. 1: why is it free? 2: should i not get it and be disappointed now, or should i get it and be disappointed later?
  9. they make guys swim trunks bubble up like a Marilyn Monroe moment.
  10. people can fart in them and you can’t tell.
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