I should be in bed

But instead? I’m looking through old pictures . . . and I found this hilarious picture of Anne and Hannah singing with the birthday crew at a restaurant back in good old Provo, Utah. They were singing me happy birthday . . . back when I was young and 25. Those were the days. Sigh.

I’m Addicted

I think I’ve mentioned this before, but I’m sort of addicted to blogs and blogging. Want to know HOW addicted?

- I bought a domain name with the intent to create my own website and someday make MONEY on this thing!

- I subscribed to Google Reader so that I no longer have to blog hop to find out if my favorite blog’s have new posts. IT’S ALL LISTED FOR ME!! I can just log on to my google account and BAM! there they are. All the new posts and feeds of all the blogs. I LOVE IT!

- My new career goal is to be a full time blogger. Seriously.

- I feel a sense of emptiness when I have nothing exciting to blog about. How sad and lame is that??

So, what is my point?

Get a Google reader account. It is so freaking cool. And kick yourself for not getting stock in Google. They are taking over the world.

Annoyances

Has it ever annoyed anyone else that they are one of the “lower” paid employees on staff at their office, yet they seem to be the only one capable of doing the easy things . . . like, say, COPYING?? Or more specifically pushing a button on the copier?

Apparently a larger salary decreases your brain size.

Memo to Me

Do not, under any circumstances try to help a man engrossed in a construction problem. Even if you KNOW your idea will work better.

One Word Answers

Feeling: Sleepy
Thinking About: Work
Your Family History: CRAZY
The Last Person You Had “Words” With: Matt
Want To Fly Away To: Europe
Hate the Sight Of: Vomit
The Sport Whose Players Turn You On: Soccer
Favorite Color Ink: Purple
American Idol Judge Who Irritates You Most: Paula
Place You Thought Monsters Hid When You Were Little: Bed
Favorite Spice or Herb: Cumin
What You Like for Breakfast: Pizza
Your Living Room Couch: Soft
Most Recent Purchase: BOOTS!!
Hours You Typically Sleep On Weeknights: Seven
Something You Dislike: Condiments
A Favorite Color: Green
Your Snack When Willpower Is Nonexistent: Chocolate
Your Bedsheets: Soooooft
The Part of Your Face You Scrunch Most Often: Nose
The Last Thing You Thought Was Funny: Jewels
What You’re Going To Do Now: Pee!

Now you copy and paste this and either post it on your blog or in the comments!

I’m laughing so hard my sides are hurting

I was reading Suburban Turmoil this morning and I just HAD to “borrow” this picture from her blog so that those of you too lazy to actually just click on the link to her blog over there could see the hilarity. Because this is SO worth it.

Yep, still laughing. Probably won’t stop all day.

———————-

**Updated to add she totally won the lawsuit HAHAHAHAAAA!

I gotta learn to keep my big mouth shut

I heard the funniest thing today . . . an old friend of my husband’s family said “my feet are big so they fit in my big mouth.”

That is my new sentence to live by. Because I have incredibly large feet. And a significantly bigger mouth.

I have been pondering myself lately. I was raised to first criticize myself, then decide how harshly to judge others. I also carry this into situations of conflict, whether they be mine or other’s conflicts. I do this to the point of annoyance and hatred sometimes, especially when others come to me with their problems. I always look for what the complainer (whether that’s me or someone else) did to aggravate the situation before I judge the other person or situation with bad behaviour. It is both a strength and a weakness, I acknowledge it and I am trying so hard not to do it at inappropriate times, yet I swear it’s ingrained in my DNA and it will never go away.

Not keeping my mouth shut is my other HUGE. GLARING. PROBLEM. I am good at keeping secrets . . . my problem is I pick and choose which ones are juicier and more fun to share and just make myself feel better by saying “DON’T TELL ANYONE.” Yeah right. It’s really a girl thing I guess . . . but for me it’s more than that.

My poor husband doesn’t understand it. He doesn’t yet understand that he has to threaten me with a large steak knife and say “DO NOT TELL OTHER PEOPLE WE HAD THIS DISCUSSION” before I’ll actually get that it’s not something I should blab to everyone.

The other day a close friend said “please don’t do what you usually do and say you won’t tell anyone and then go ahead and tell them all. This is something I want to keep quiet.” I’m proud to say that I have not slipped once with that one. I am making progress, see?!?!

I do try to be sensitive, I do try not to share very personal things. I try so hard. Sometimes they just slip out! They just do. It’s all with good intent . . . or to get a good laugh. But not usually. I have a good heart, that fact I know. I’m not cruel and I’d never share someones secret to hurt them on purpose. But sometimes I know it does and I feel SO BAD about it.

I know a lot of the people who’s feelings I hurt don’t read this here blog. But to those who do, I do apologize if I’ve ever said too much about you and hurt your feelings. I’m trying to work on it, I really truly am. I really only tell my closest girlfriends this kind of stuff anyway. I swear. There just happens to be like, ten of them. But I’m trying not to. I’m doing better. Baby steps are being taken in the right direction!

I think I did it again today though. Not to any of you who read this blog. I did it to someone who truly annoys me and drives me BONKERS and who I may someday go into a full on rant about ON this blog. . . but it may just come back to bite me in the butt. It wasn’t a big secret or anything, just stupid, funny gossip. But I still may hear about it later. If I do, I’ll man up and apologize, but the damage may be done because I blabbed to someone who has a bigger blabber than me.

Memo to me: try to tell gossipy stories to someone who talks LESS than you, not more.

Memo to you: Hit me with a large post after you tell me a secret. And aim well, so you hit the memory part of my brain. Wherever that is.

Blog Schmog

THE PRESSURE! IT’S KILLING ME!

I feel the pounding pressure to BLOG ALL THE TIME. And let’s be honest folks. I don’t have much to say, I just have this addiction. So brace yourselves for the nothingness of my blog:

I’m trying to figure out how to create a sidebar button that tracks the number of days since my last “Kateastrophe.” Scnozz, who I’ve never met and has never even heard of me creates these hilarious sidebar buttons all the time (oh yeah, props to her for letting the internet steal her ADD Superstar button showing over there) and I’m seriously thinking of sending her an email that says “Hey, you don’t know me from Adam, but I have these Kateastrophes, see . . . and I want a sidebar button that tracks them – kind of like the signs at some companies that count the number of days since a work related accident? A counter of sorts?) But I think she’ll think I’m a nut job. Which I am, but that’s a different story for a different day.

Work today was . . . well, like doing the work of three people. You know . . . the usual sales calls, marketing tasks followed by admin duties that were supposed to be over in August. I’m not complaining, mind you. For one thing, it’s easier for me to do the admin stuff then try to explain it to yet another temp who may or may not be here next week. For another thing, I enjoy being crazy busy then dramatically coming home at the end of the day and telling Matt “YOU decide what we’re doing for dinner. IIIII am doing the work of twelve people and I have no brain power left!” (followed by a MORE dramatic flop on the couch — where I sit for the REST.OF.THE.NIGHT.) Then Matt or I order pizza and I basically push “DELETE” on the workout I got my arse out of bed at 5:30 AM for. But mmmmm stuffed crust cheese pizza. (SEE?!? THIS IS WHY I AM NO LONGER SKINNY)

Speaking of skinny . . . my friend Stacey has an elliptical machine she can’t use because of some back trouble she’s been having, so she is loaning it to me. NOW, I plan on watching ALL the TV I want, guilt free, because I will be pounding away the fat on the beautiful thing. I figure I’ll be a size 0 in about four days . . . because that’s how much TV I currently watch.

And that folks, is all she wrote for the night. Lost is on and my butt hurts from sitting in one position for too long. I’d better lay down, I’m burning too many of the pizza calories using my fingers to type so fast.

Mother Effort!

Hahaha. Ok I apologize to anyone offended by my little play on words . . . but seriously, it’s fitting.

Today I worked my tuckus off. I had hoped to clean the whole darn house today, however that didn’t get done. Something got in the way. A FAN. A FREAKING CEILING FAN.

I wanted to be all handy and install it myself, so while Matt was at the sand dunes, I did it. Sort of. It’s all installed . . . it JUST DOESN’T WORK. It took me four hours and it doesn’t freaking work. The light works . . . but the FAN doesn’t work. It took me forever to figure out which breaker shut the power to my bedroom off. This was after I shocked myself three times thinking “I won’t get shocked.” Riiiight. I finally just turned off ALL the power in the house. Then I set to work taking down the old fan and starting up the new one. By the time I turned the power back on I had put it together and taken it apart like four times. Nothing was working correctly, nothing was going on the right way, nothing fit, nothing went flush. NOTHING WAS WORKING THE WAY IT WAS SUPPOSED TO. Then, after hours and hours of frustration, I thought I had it right. I went downstairs, turned all the power back on, went upstairs . . . turned on the light and then . . . no fan.

After that, I went downstairs, got a Diet Coke and drank my sorrows away for about an hour.

Then, I cleaned like a freaker . . . but just the upstairs, the bathroom and the kitchen. I’m currently sitting in the living room surrounded by junk mail, clean laundry and just a wee bit of garbage. Ok, a lot of garbage. Ok not really garbage. Napkins. Left over from my pigging out on pasta.

On the upside, I got a new cleaning toy! A Dirt Devil Broom Vac. It makes sweeping the floor so easy! As you sweep it sucks up all the dirt! I wanted a pink one but Target only had red, and I was desperate to have it (impatient much?!?)so I bought what they had. I just want to sweep the floor all the time! (Much different then last weeks attitude of ‘I hate to sweep’)

So now MOST of my house is clean and I’m happy to be sitting watching my Sunday night TV shows, wrapped in a blanket waiting for my husband to return from his weekend at the dunes. He will be stinky but it will be good to see him!

Five things about ME challenge

I was tagged by Kari, an old friend from EFY’s gone by, to complete a “five things you didn’t know about me” post and then tag five more people.

Kari and I spent one week together YEARS ago (longer ago then I care to admit) and we have random “it’s a small world after all” connections that have kept us in touch, so finding five things Kari doesn’t know about me might not be that hard, but Kari really threw down the gauntlet by saying that I always make her laugh . . . so now the challenge is to find five entertaining things about me . . . and honestly, I don’t know if I can do it, but let’s see!

1. I HATE CONDIMENTS. Since I was a small girl I’ve hated ketchup, mustard, relish, mayo, salad dressing . . . anything ewey and goopy that goes on food — with the strange, rare exception of barbeque sauce. It’s always funny to order food at any fast food place. Cheeseburger plain. Chicken sandwich, hold anything that resembles sauce. No taco sauce with my taco. Take off anything that is goopy, please. My favorite is In-N-Out Burger, because they further embarrass me by saying (in a judgy voice) “just the meat, cheese and the bun?” YES. THAT IS ALL. Thank you for shouting it out to the whole restaurant. Even funnier is that my own mother NEVER remembers this oddity about me. NEVER. I always get a ham sandwich covered in goopy, nasty mayonaise. Insert vomit noise HERE.

2. I am obsessed with weddings. I always have been. Any movie that has a wedding theme, I’m there. That new TV show about the wedding planners? I so want that to be my life. I gaze fondly at everyone’s wedding ring and ask to look at it. I love stories about weddings. I love pictures of weddings. Hell, I want to get married again (to the same man, mind you) just to have another wedding. I see bridal magazines and I want to buy them just to look at them. Then I get mad that a particular style of dress was nowhere to be found when I was getting married. This obsession doesn’t seem to be close to ending . . . it’s getting worse. So anyone wanting to plan a wedding . . . give me a call. I need to feed the addiction. Seriously, I’ll do anything involving a wedding.

3. I dream of being the next Martha Stewart. What I lack is the style, creativity, drive, ability, craftiness . . . pretty much everything that makes her Martha Stewart. I can decorate OK. I don’t clean well at all. I am so not crafty in any way, shape or form. I can cook but those complicated meals just piss me off. I do semi-homemade and comfort food. I can throw a mean party too . . . but it just doesn’t seem to be enough! There aren’t enough hours in the day! It makes me hate her with a passion. Her and her perfectly folded fitted sheets. Beeeeotch.

4. I wash my hair as little as possible. I know, you germophobe neat freaks are shocked and disgusted right now. I shower! I just don’t take the time to wash and condition my hair. It’s SO LONG and SUCH A PAIN IN THE BUTT and then after the washing comes the styling and the blow drying and the curling iron . . . Besides, any stylist will tell you it’s better for your hair NOT to wash it. I just don’t know if they meant 4 days . . .

5. I want to be a carbohydrate. Ok not really . . . but this whole “carbs are bad” thing just cramps my style. I can eat a whole loaf of bread in one sitting. Followed by a giant bowl of pasta. Followed by a giant tub of mashed potatoes. If it’s a carb, I’ll eat it . . . and not just eat it . . . pig out on it. If anyone knows of a carb diet that says all you should eat is carbs, I am so there.

OK, now I have to tag five people to tell me five things I may not know about them.

Anniekinz, I tag you because you are new to the blogging thing and you have a hilarious life and stories, plus as well as I know you, I KNOW there are things I don’t know.

Jewels, I tag you because I am DYING to find out if there is something I don’t know about you. And I love you.

Hannah, I tag you for the same reasons I tag Julia. HA!

Bo Beila, I tag you because you don’t blog NEARLY enough and I want to see more of you. And I love you too.

Janaya, I tag you because you are another oh-so-random EFY friend from even BEFORE I met Kari, and I’d love to know more things about you!!