Dogs vs. Kids

I have a list. A list of things I have said to my dogs that I sincerely hope I never utter to human children in the event that we have them.

-- Stop barking at the TV.

-- Ohmygosh. Did you just take a dump on that clean basket of folded laundry?

-- Why do you insist on eating your poop?

-- Why do you insist on eating your poop and then throwing it up all over the bathroom floor?

-- That's it. I don't care that you're only four. You either need to get a job. Or start pulling your weight around here.

-- Quit peeing on your sister.

-- Do it again and I am selling you to a Chinese restaurant.

-- Poop in the house one more time and Christmas, your birthday, AND your half birthday will be canceled this year.

-- Please stop climbing into the dishwasher and licking the dirty spoons.

-- Seriously. For the last time. That's your sister. I know it's acceptable in some European countries, but you're not allowed to pee on her.

-- Quit biting at the air. It's the air. What did the air do to you?

-- Just wait until your dad gets home.

Ok. That last one. There will be a variation of that said for sure when we crap out kids. But it won't be Jesse that our kids fear. It will be me. Yes. I already know who will play good cop and who will play bad cop. And I already resent my husband for that.

So tell me. Do you have kids? Have you said any if the above statements to them before? Please tell me you've never had to tell your child not to eat their poop. Please.

Linking up with....

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Dogs vs. Kids

Fridays with Jungle

It's Friday night again. And wouldn't ya know it, Jungle is on my couch per usual.

While watching Lingo on Game Show Network tonight, the following was said:

Game show announcer guy: Ohhh sorry. The word was DECOR.
Jungle: Did he just say DICK-OR?
Me: DAY-COR.


(few minutes later)

Jungle: We should go on a game show.
Jesse: How would we do that, Rick? (they call each other Rick--don't ask)
Jungle: I don't know. But any person. Any show. We'd dominate as a team. Come get some.
Jesse: Holla. We need to research them shits.

The above conversation then reminded them of that time when they were out in California and had the opportunity to
be on Price Is Right. I know. Like dream come true, right? But it was not to be because they chose to get suuuuper drunk the night before, passed out, and slept in instead of getting there at 4AM for a chance to get on the show. I have known my husband for a little over three years. And I have heard this story at least 47 times. And as far as I am concerned that is roughly 46 times too many. Any story that begins with, "Remember that time you almost had your hands down Bob Barkers pants?" is a story I am perfectly fine with never hearing again. Seriously guys. Make some new memories already.

So Jesse and Jungle are best friends. I call them besties. Jungle loves this. Both that they are besties, and that I refer to them as such. And while I don't worry Jesse will ever leave me for a skinnier, hotter, funnier (that last one isn't even possible btw) version of myself...I do worry that he may pack his bags one day, leave me and the kids (of the canine variety), and move in with Jungle. For good. You may laugh. But I am being serious. It's a legit fear of mine.

Now. If you will excuse me. I am watching some riveting television programming with that guy I married, and the other guy who came with Jesse as my free gift with purchase. Jungle. We are currently flipping between basketball (laaaaame!) a television concert of Chicago (the band, not the city), Family Guy...oh and of course, Game Show Network.

What did you do tonight? It's OK if your life is more awesome than mine. It's bound to happen. And not shocking at all.

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Fridays with Jungle

All is good in the hood

Good news, guys! The appointment yesterday couldn't have gone any better! The doctor did say I am predisposed for autoimmune diseases, given my medical history (a mother with Lupus), but for now all of my blood tests came back negative, and I checked out all clear in the physical exam portion. My four foot tall Asian doc did allude to the fact that I might want to consider getting a bit more exercise. To which I replied, "Are you calling me fat, doc??!?" OK. I didn't say that. But I got the message. Loud and clear. Signed up for my first triathlon minutes after parting ways with him. OK. I didn't.

While it would have been nice to have something concrete to blame my recent exhaustion and overall body aches on, I am super thrilled that this wasn't anything major. I don't mean to downplay it, nor do I resent my primary doctor for referring me to a specialist, but it's pretty clear that most of these issues can be contributed to stress. And like I have mentioned a few times prior, we've been under a fair share of it this past year or so. Planning a wedding, maintaining a mostly healthy marriage, moving (twice!), working long hours, changing jobs (for both Jesse and I)...amongst other things. It can all contribute to a fair bit of stress in one's life. Don't get me wrong. All these things can be managed...as long as you're taking care of your body as well. Something I haven't been putting an emphasis on (insert kick in the pants here).

So yes, this whole thing has been a wake up call to me. I already began to make some changes prior to the appointment. A big one being a job change (who knew taking care of two under two could be so taxing?). And I started seeing a therapist. Yeah. I just admitted that. Feel free to judge me. I am not ashamed. My insurance is stellar (thanks, hot husband) and I don't regret my decision to do this in the least. Plus she doesn't judge me. Or if she is she is really, really good at hiding it. Whew.

I know there are some other areas I can improve too. Unfortunately Jesse is unwilling to let me remain unemployed, chat up my therapist on the weekly, and make frequent stops to Starbucks (hello Real Housewives of Orange County?). While I highly doubt I will be doing a triathlon, I might start hopping on that elliptical a bit more. I just canceled our LA Fitness membership, but thankfully our new townhome community has a fairly decent workout facility that I hope to become acquainted with. And I found a less stressful nanny gig. Believe it or not, it actually pays better than my current one (score!) so the financial burdens are a bit lessened as well. So everything is coming together. I guess that guy I married was right after all. All really is going to be OK. Who woulda thunk it?

Got any other healthy lifestyle change options for this lazy bag of bones? At present the only daily exercise I do are my kegals. Per Oprah's suggestion. And that's only cuz I can do it from my couch. While eating white cheddar cheezits. Ha! After following a few ladies on Instagram I am strongly considering a juice fast. Is that crazy?? However, those who know me in real life may want to avoid me if I am forced to consume my meals through a straw.....



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All is good in the hood

Speaking of...

Some confessions of sorts.

I strongly considered doing a vlog the other day. So strongly in fact that I brought the Flip Camera with us while on a walk on Sunday. But all I managed to capture was Apple making a number one. And Bobo pooping. And Jesse calling our neighborhood a dumpster fire. Definitely not vlog material. Better luck next time?

Speaking of pooping...does anyone else's husband/significant other have a hard time restocking the toilet paper? We buy it in bulk. It sat at the top of the steps yesterday begging to be brought downstairs and put away. I got home from work last night and I could see that someone had gotten into it and grabbed a roll. This leads me to believe that my husband is a morning pooper. But he can't be bothered to bring down the entire package of TP. Really??!?

Speaking of putting things away...I just got on Jesse for not putting the TP away but I am just as bad as him. I still have a semi-neat pile of holiday decorations in the corner of our living room. This, coming from the girl that got emotionally attached to all her fall decor and left it all out until the pumpkins rotted under her Christmas tree. Yes. There's probably s medical diagnosis for people such as myself.

Speaking of a medical diagnosis...I finally have that doctor appointment today with the rheumatologist. I think it's sweet that Jesse is insistent on coming with. There is truly nothing greater than a supportive husband (even if he can't put away the TP). I will admit that we've been grating on each other's nerves lately. The beginning of 2012 have brought many unwelcome (but some needed) things. Family squabbles, health issues, job changes, moving to the burbs. It's been a lot on our plate. Jesse's tagline has been, "It's all going to be OK."And my tagline has been, "If you say that one more time I might punch you hard. In your boy parts." Nobutseriously. Same song. Different verse. This man remains my rock. And we are blessed.

Speaking of poop...oh, we weren't talking about poop? Well we are now. Bobo seemed to finally get over his bout of the runny butt. Two frickin weeks later. Jeesh. But now he hasn't pooped at all since Monday at 10:30AM. Yes. We have a poop log for him. Maybe we are ready for babies after all.

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Speaking of...

I dream of bloggers

Have you ever dreamt about another blogger?

I have.

Not just once. Twice.

The first blogger dream was about a blogger (who will remain nameless). It was a suuuuper peculiar dream. Like creepy peculiar. I can't even divulge it all. You know it's weird if I can't bring myself to blog about it. Here. I will give you a hint. It involves back boobs. As in, this particular blogger had boobs. On her back. I am completely at a loss as to why I'd dream about this blogger's oddly placed boobs. I think it has something to do with me eating buffalo chicken dip while reading her breast feeding adventures, right prior to getting some shut eye.

My second blogger dream was this past Sunday night. In this dream a blog post of mine came alive. Sort of. Remember how I posted my thoughts on paid sponsorship last week?? So in the dream another blogger (who in real life lives a thousand plus miles away, and again will remain nameless) lived in my neighbor Bill's house. So right across the alley from us. Bill even lived with them still. Quick side note: Jesse and I can never remember Bill's name. It always escapes us. And it wasn't until this dream that his name popped into my head again. After almost a year of dodging conversation where I have to say his name. Four weeks before he won't be our neighbor anymore. Oh well. Better late than never, right?

So anyway. Back to my dream. After apparently moving in with Bill, and reading my rant about paid sponsorship, this unnamed blogger sent her husband over to my house to yell at me because no one wants to sponsor her blog anymore after they read my post. He said that they were even forced to let their house go into foreclosure (maybe that's why they moved in with Bill?) and they couldn't afford Christmas presents for their three kids this year. She even went as far as writing me hate mail and tacking it to my door so I'd see it when I got home.

And then I woke up.

Have you ever had a blog related dream? Or just any weird dream in general?

I want to hear about it. ◦

I dream of bloggers

Weekend winning

I have tomorrow off of work. Sundays always tend carry a looming, dark cloud over the day, reminding me that I have to work when morning comes. But this Sunday? That's not the case.

I am not sure what I will do tomorrow on my day off. Any suggestions? Start off by sleeping in? Ok. If you insist.

Here. While you are pondering other day off options, take a gander at some photographical proof that this weekend happened.

Rooftop drinking on Friday night. Very uncommon for March, so of course I jumped at the chance to catch some late day rays. Happy hour sorta turned into an, "Ohmygosh, it's after midnight and all my cash is missing" sorta event. Good times.

Saturday afternoon Jesse brought me to my favorite store for home decor ideas (it's sorta like pinning on Pinterest, but more active cuz you actually have to leave your couch to do so). I ate the most delicious quiche lorraine at the cafe they have attached, but didn't spend a dime on any pretties (per the request of my husband). But I have lots of ideas of things I want to accomplish in our new rental.

Then last night brought an impromptu comedy show at The Brave New Workshop. We decided to go 30 minutes before it started (thanks, Meg). We were on the couch and literally rolled off and rolled out, me without a stitch of makeup and a messy bun on top of my head, and Jesse sporting jeans that got hit by a wrinkle bomb. Sorry. No pics of either. It's for your own good, I promise. Suffice it to say we didn't fit in with the regular downtown crowd. Mostly because I, unlike the other ladies in my midst, at least remembered to put pants on. Seriously. What is up with the hussy outfits the kids are wearing these days?

Ok. Done being a grandma. Here are the pics.

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Weekend winning

Hungry movie goers

My friend, Ma and I saw Friends With Kids last night. It was good. I loved the main girl (who's name escapes me at the present) and found out she has been dating Jon Hamm (also in the movie) since 1998. That is a long ace time in Hollywood years. The movie itself made me want a baby by the end. Which is weird cuz those feelings haven't really hit me much recently. But I think it goes in waves. I went home and even took a pregnancy test. Yes. That is weird too. Mostly because I actually had a test at home to take. Jesse questioned my reasoning for taking it. I think he thought the movie itself got me pregnant. No. Not possible. And no, I am not pregnant. And yes, I am ok with this.

When we went into the theater at 7:40 there were four people waiting in line to see the next movie attraction. That wasn't playing until MIDNIGHT!! When we got out of the movie two hours later several more had joined them. Who are these people? Are YOU these people??!?

I am not here to judge (well not that much anyway) but why do people do this? Perhaps I can file this group under crazy Black Friday shoppers. I don't get that either. Not because I have never been passionate about something. You should have seen me in line when the McRib came back. OK. Lies. I didn't get in line for the McRib. But that is about all I can see myself losing precious sleep over.

Were you amongst a group like this last night to see the premiere of Hunger Games? Was it worth it? Any disappointments? It's a common theme that the book is always better than the flick. Did that ring true with HG?

Give me the scoop da loop. Inquiring (and semi-judgmental) minds want to know.

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Hungry movie goers

Paid sponsorship, part deaux

I am blown away by the responses I got from people who had similar thoughts about paid sponsorship. You ladies sure did come through for me. I was so scuuuuured to post it. Your comments were just the validation I needed. And clearly I don't get enough validation from my husband so...yeah...thank you.

I want to clarify a few things, as my opinion on the paid sponsorship subject matter was a bit snarky. OK. A lot snarky.

I do not think all paid sponsorship is a scam. But I do think there are a few who don't take it seriously. Or work hard for it. This was further confirmed after reading the 40+ responses I received. I am not here to say you should or shouldn't pay for ad space. Nor am I saying that you shouldn't try to make a few extra dollars in selling space. Your blog. Your choice.

More advice from someone who thinks she is an expert in everything (just ask that guy I married):

If you are a purchaser make sure to do your research. Read old blog posts and see how they have promoted previous sponsors. Ask a former sponsor what their experience was like. Sure it might only be $15-$20, but its still your money. Spend it wisely. Common misconception: Those who sell space think the purchaser needs the seller more than the seller needs the purchaser. Not the case. You, the purchaser, have options. There are plenty of bloggers who are selling space these days. Choose wisely. Choose the blogger who seems to GENUINELY want your business (YOUR money) the most. Go for the blogger who has fewer ad spaces. The less advertisers you're competing with, the more potential traffic you're gonna get. Ie: more bang for your buck.

And to the sellers: Read the above paragraph. Work for your money. It's clear to me that bloggers are not dense. And the ones that are? Well they will learn eventually. Sorta like I did. Also, less is best. Its quality. Not quantity. Choose a few bloggers to promote each month. Take the time to actually follow their blogs and get to know them. Don't stretch yourself too thin. Cuz if you do that you just come off like a money hungry douche canoe. No one wants to be labeled a money hungry douche canoe. Even if it's a funny nickname. I'd abbreviate it. MHDC.

I don't think I will buy anymore space. I have chosen to take the route where my blog grows organically. By shout outs from fellow bloggers. Or through the occasional guest post or link up. Or by sky writing my web address daily throughout the Twin Cities metro. And then there is my favorite (slash semi-embarrassing) way...when someone in my real life tells me they follow my blog. Of course that makes me happy, but then it also sorta turns me into Shy Shelly. I don't know why. It just does. I used to update my Facebook status every time I updated my blog. It generated quite a bit of traffic, but I rarely got comments from anyone (unless your last name used to be Babcock or you are the mother of my godson). Not a huge deal, but I started to get insecure about it, thinking my real life friends thought I was narcissistic for encouraging people to read my daily rambles. And only read it so they could make fun of me. So I stopped. I have a Facebook page for my blog now, but even that makes me feel a bit too full of myself. I sorta forget its there most of the time. Sorry to the 20-some of you likers who wait around with baited breath for my next status update. Good thing most of you are my Facebook friend too. You get more action (slash pics of my dogs) that way.

Also. My last post was a message to myself. Funny how that works, eh? I need to be better at promoting those lovely ladies on the right side of my blog. Or I need to just delete them altogether if I can't follow through with my intentions. Or I need to switch things up a bit. I think I am in over my head. I need to simplify. I saw a fellow blogger who does a blog of the week feature. I like this idea. And I think I am going to take on this concept in lieu of a group post (I will admit, I usually skim over those on other blogs). So. If your blog is on my right hand sidebar (or even if it's not) I'd love to write a little somethin', somethin' about ya. Get in touch with me. Let's talk. I am going to delete all of the buttons in a few days and start from scratch.

Alright. A particular blogger (you know who you are) just threatened to end things if I didn't blog so I figured I better deliver. Like I need that kind of buzz kill on my week.

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Paid sponsorship, part deaux

Paid sponsorship thoughts

This is a post written mostly to other bloggers. About my experience with paying to sponsor another blogger. Read at your own risk.

I have some questions for you guys who have paid to sponsor another blog.

What are your expectations of a blogger when you pay them money to promote you on their blog?

Has it been worth it for you?

Have you seen your blog grow from it?

Orrrr do you think it's just a get (a little) rich(er) quick scheme (of sorts) for the blogger you are sponsoring, with little return on your investment?

Next set of questions.

Do(es) the blogger(s) you are sponsoring with money correspond with you, follow your blog, and/or interact with you while you are sponsoring them?

Would you be disappointed if they didn't?

I have experienced sponsorship of both kinds. Of the three blogs I have paid money to sponsor, three of them I have had some swell, dandy, and grand experiences with. Ahem, Krysten and Digger. Oddly enough their rates were way low, but their services were above and beyond. Then there was one other. The one that cost me the most. That one was completely lame and totally not worth it. But that's just my opinion.

Here are my thoughts on the whole sponsorship business. What? You didn't think you'd get more of MY opinion? Pssh. Please.

I think with some of the larger blogs it's a bit contrived. Me thinks most (definitely not ALL) bloggers who accept paid sponsorship are looking at it merely as a way to bring in some side cash. Not because they want to help other bloggers be more successful. It's a bit like this: "Hey. Pay me money and I will tell everyone I like your blog. Even if I don't. But I will do it just this month. Want my love affair with your blog to blossom and continue, all while your blog grows larger? Well then pay up for next month too, sister."

This past month I sponsored a blog and it was pretty much like that. Except my blog didn't grow from it. And no. I am not going to tell you what blog it was. Well OK. Snail mail me a box of Girl Scout Samoas and I will leak it to you. Maybe.

I know I am a total noob to paid sponsorship. I did, however, do my research when I was looking to invest some money in it. I chose a few blogs that I genuinely liked. I then assumed that after learning I was interested in sponsoring them and accepted my money that they too were feeling my blog and writing style. I think I was naive in that thought process. Does that make me silly for thinking that way? Maybe. I dunno. But a good part of me doesn't think so.

So when this particular blogger that I sponsored took my $20 (yeah, it was only $20--NBD in the end really) and then didn't say boo to me until February was almost over I was a bit annoyed. Not like I lost sleep over it, but it made me realize that this paid sponsorship business is so not my bag. Or at least she is not my bag.

And this may alienate me from the blog world (wait, that probably already happened when I admitted to hating Harry Potterhead and TOMS) but I thought I'd offer a bit of unsolicited advice to those bloggers who accept paid sponsorship. Some food for thought from this noob. Who may or may not know what she is talking about. Doubtful it will be read by some big box bloggers (my guess is that they don't read my little ol' blog) but maybe it will strike a nerve with a blogger who eventually will accept paid sponsorship down the road. And maybe my rant won't all be for naught.

1. Don't be fake. I can smell fake a million miles away. Others can too. Genuine is a much nicer fragrance. Wear it.

2. But if you are going to be fake, at least be good at being fake. I have an unofficial BS degree in BS. I learned how to point out a BS'er a long time ago. I am also sometimes full of it myself (but not right now obvi). That's how I know a few (dare I say a lot?) of you BBB's (big box bloggers) are full of BS. So either cut the crapola (ala #1). Or be a really, really good faker of genuine.

3. If you can't pull off #2 then consider this: Don't accept a sponsorship from someone you can't see yourself making a modest amount of time to interact with here or there during the month(s) they are paying you. Regardless of how much they are paying you, consider them your best paying sponsor. Yes. I think its important/awesome when a sponsored blogger goes above and beyond. In the end this is a business transaction, and those who pay you money are your customers. Right? Whether this blogging biz is your side gig or the only way you make money, its important to remember the basics of customer service. Don't be lazy and do the bare minimum. That sucks. Any good business person knows they should want to exceed the expectations of their client. And no. I am not expecting us to ride off into the sunset and be besties forever, and ever, amen. Not at all. But it would be nice to be wined and dined just a teensy bit during the time that I am supplying you with some extra ching ching to spend on quirky Etsy products. Plus if you do this then you don't have to worry about the things mentioned in #2. If you only accept sponsorships from people you can genuinely appreciate and be on the same wavelength with, then you don't need to be fake about it, right? You will want to visit these blogs that sponsor you. You will be excited when they update their Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, what-have-you. Hey, you might even show them some comment love (and don't act like you are more evolved than that). I know it will suck having to possibly tell a blogger that you don't think they'd be a good fit for your blog. Gasp! What if the word got out that you didn't dig a certain blogger? Cuz that's basically what will be happening if you deny them. People wouldn't sponsor you. You wouldn't get money. You'd have to go back to writing the way you did before people paid you to do it. Well guess what? I also have a solution for that. Act apologetic and tell the interested sponsor that you juuuuust filled the last spot for sponsors like four minutes before you got their email. Yes. That technically falls under #2. And its lying. But if you are good at it then you will come off genuine and you may not even lose a reader. Win-win. But just don't try it with me. I will see right through you. And cry myself to sleep because you don't think my blog is worthy.

So there you have it. Did I say too much? Did I not say enough? Highly unlikely. I am sorry if I offended anyone with this opinion. But really I am not. Oh well. If you don't like my blog then get your own. But you probably already do have your own blog. So what gives?

On an unrelated note: I just found out I am going to be jobless for approximately six weeks in April and May. I thought about backpacking through Europe for several weeks, but then I remembered I am a broke ace foo. So instead I will probably dig myself a hole and live there, and off the land until I am making money again. I will keep you updated on how that all pans out.

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Paid sponsorship thoughts

Green Day recap

So as I mentioned prior, I wasn't entirely looking forward to St. Patty's Day. Thankfully I found a way to pull myself out of my funk long enough to enjoy some time with friends. And an enjoyable day it was. But no, I did not go to the infamous parade in St. Paul. There isn't enough beer in the world for me to endure that chaotic craziness. No thanks.

Oh and funny story. I don't have a picture of it, but an old friend recognized my husband at the bar tonight. She is a friend of mine from my hometown. An hour and a half south of where we were tonight. She has never met him and has only seen pics of him on Facebook. That's the crazy part. Even funnier because the bar was a complete sh!t show so at that particular moment J and I lost sight of one another and were separated. So she spotted him amidst a bunch of randoms. Minus me by his side. A true testament that I post a lot of pics of J on Facebook. But anywho, they both found me eventually so that's good.

Here are some pics of the day's events. They are not in order. The one where I confess my possible intoxication was the last photo of the night. At 9:49pm. I was en route to my bed at that particular moment. Yep. I am officially old.

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Green Day recap

Hello, Friday. I have been waiting.

Linking up with Ashley for Friday's Letters.

Dear guy I married.

I stopped in to see you last night while you were hanging with the guys. You were all a bunch of tool bags. March Madness is definitely in full force. The beverages were plentiful. Apparently you were too full of a liquid diet cuz you all completely forgot to eat dinner. Smooth move, boys. However, watching you and and Jungle trying to grill at 10pm while under the influence was pretty hilarious. I left before you grill masters were finished. Hope that all turned out for ya. Oh. The smoke detector in our bedroom went off at 2am this morning. Will you look into that? The series of events that went down at that particular moment was surely comedic magic. And Apple and Bobo?? Definitely not fans of the interruption in their beauty sleep.

Dear dryer.

You're a total douche lord. I do my part by putting the clothes into you. Now do yours and dry them. And no. It wasn't because I had it on the low setting again. I checked.

Dear water.

In an attempt to curve my mammoth appetite I have decided to drink a lot of you. A lot. Like a bathtub full maybe. My already compromised old lady bladder did not appreciate this flood of liquids entering my body. No. I did not wet myself. But there were a few close calls. Side note: I have always had a small/weak bladder. Jumping on a trampoline has always been taboo for me. I probably need that one drug (Detrol?) with the tag line, "Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now." Cuz usually I do.

Dear St. Patty's Day weekend.

I kinda wanna boycott you this year. Our friends are having their annual party. Just not feeling it. Something I am feeling? A happy hour tonight after work with the ladies. I can't wait to get my grubby mits all over those seasoned tater tots. And a Summit. It's also suppose to be in the 80s this weekend. EIGHTIES, people!!!!! Completely unheard of for my Minne.

Dear cold sore in the corner of my mouth.

You hurt like a be-yaaa. Every time I open my trap (which is quite often--shocking, I know) you rear your ugly head. Seriously. Go away. Here. I took a picture of you so I will always remember you. It's been a lovely (NOT!) couple of WEEKS with you. But my double chin is getting jealous of all the attention you've been getting from curious and grossed out onlookers.

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Hello, Friday. I have been waiting.

Husband-less.

My husband is leaving me.

To go hang out with his rubes for the next couple nights. Yes. Beginning tomorrow Jesse is having a 48 hour (and some change) sleepover with his besties. Where they can scratch their butt and balls (but only their own butt and balls...that I know of) and do other unnecessary manly things. I am sure copious amounts of fried food will be inhaled as well. All in the name of March Madness. I guess it's something they've been doing since their college days. And it ain't gonna end just cuz he snagged himself a lady wife. Far be it from me to keep him from nonstop basketball viewing with the boys. Viva la March Madness. As long as it's not in my house. Heather, you're a saint for taking the boys in btw. You can come over here whenever.

But he hasn't left me yet. Tonight we sat on the couch. I watched lots of Bravo. Anyone watching Million Dollar Listing New York? I like Fredrik. He's my favorite. While I was watching the lives of the rich and famous (and far removed from reality) that guy I married was doing his Bracketology. He has a lot of money on this so his teams better win or we won't be able to pay rent next month. Just kidding. Maybe. To amuse him I let him do a bracket for me. But I am too cheap to lay down the dollars. Plus gambling scares me. I'd probably get hooked, and then the next thing you know I am 86 and alone. At the casino. Chain smoking with my oxygen tank in tow. So yeah. No gambling fer this gal. Bad news bears. But for my fake bracket I based my winners of each game by what mascot I think could out drink the other. I know. Real scientific.

Here is a series of pictures from our night on the couch. Jesse thought I was taking pictures of Bobo and Apple, when in actuality he was my subject. It would be creepy if I wasn't married to him. Well. It's still sorta creeptastic but the marriage thing makes it legal. I also snapped a photo of my sweet elastic ankled sweatpants. Keeping it classy.

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Husband-less.

Gentri's Seven

I am answering the following questions per the request of Emily (my oh-so swell pen pal). I just discovered Gentri's blog recently, and have even had the distinct pleasure of playing her in Draw Something the past few days. She's pretty good, and even stumped me on the word, "wedgie" today. I should have gotten a screenshot of her drawing because I kept thinking it was the infamous Michael Jackson grabbing his crotch shot. 

But nope. It was just her drawing a picture of someone with a wedgie. Well played, Gentrie. Well played. 

Here are the answers to her seven questions this week. 

1. Pick a boyfriend: Edward Cullen, Peeta Mellark, or Harry Potter. 

Who are these people? OK. I lie. I do know the two on the end, but the one in the middle is a complete mystery. All I can think of when I read it is how Wendy Darling said Peter's name in Peter Pan. I guess I don't know enough about any of them that I'd want to make out with them. And not sure about you, but I like to hypothetically make out with my hypothetical boyfriends. So my answer is....none of them. Pass. 

2. If you HAD to have a crazy hairdo, what hairdo would you choose and why? 


I guess I'd pull a Britney and shave my head completely bald. I mean, if I had to and all. 


3. If you could be a celebrity what would you like to be celebrated for? 


I like to am obsessed with singing karaoke. And I sometimes think I rock at it. Especially Let 'Er Rip by The Dixie Chicks and You're So Vain by Carly Simon. Those are my go-to songs. Or I'd like to be an actress on SNL. A singing actress/performer on SNL. Sounds delightful to me. 

4. Be honest- do you brush and floss your teeth daily?

I do not floss my teeth daily. But I do brush. 

5. What is one fear you are working to overcome? 


I am going back to school soon. I am scared shitless of this. It would be nice to overcome this in the not-so-distant future, all in an effort to live my life to it's fullest potential. And I know you said only one, but I also have an irrational fear of failing as a parent someday. Or being unable to become a parent period. So that's three. I have a lot of fears. I could probably keep going. But I will stop. For now.

6. White Chocolate, Milk Chocolate, Dark Chocolate, or Semi-Sweet? 


I don't mind white chocolate or a really good milk chocolate (with caramel in the center preferably), but in general I am not really a fan. I know. I don't like popular lit or chocolate. I am about to confess another disdain of mine in the next question, and I am sure will boggle the minds of many. 

7. What is one trend you wish you could pull off?


Hmmmm. I don't think I am ever able to pull off trends. I am not super trendy. Perhaps colored skinnies? Or just skinnies in general. I wear regular skinnies on occasion, but I feel they are false advertising because I don't feel too skinny in them. And while we are on the topic of trends can we talk about Toms for a second? I don't get how those got so popular. Is it the buy one, give one concept? I think that's real swell. How about I buy some and you can give them both away. Sound good? Great. Glad we had this talk. 


Oh. And here's a silly picture of me. 


Ever shut the bathroom door on a party bus so you can go to the bathroom (sans an audience), only for your friend to open the door two seconds later and take a picture? Yep. That's what is happening here. Pretty classy, eh? 

Sorry. My answers to these questions were pretty lame. Hope the picture made up for it. 

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Gentri's Seven

Our drawsome weekend

Jesse and I are big time lovers of Craig Ferguson. We tune in most nights, and one or both of us make it through the entire show. He's on after Letterman so it's 12:30am when it gets over. We're definitely night owls. Or rather, I have a hard time falling asleep, and Jesse stays up late because he never has to work before 10am most days. And yes, I do often want to smother him with a pillow most mornings while he peacefully sleeps in and I have to crawl out of bed to be to work by 7:30. But that's neither here nor there, and hopefully won't ever be used against me in a court of law. 

So at the end of every show Craig has a segment where he goes over what he taught his viewers on the show that night. It has a catchy little sing-song jingle that maybe I will sing for you sometime. If you could be so lucky. 

I decided to make a weekend edition of the Craig Ferguson inspired, What Did We Learn Over The Weekend: Instagram style. 

I learned that Draw Something is grossly addictive. And sometimes my pictures are inadvertently perverted. 

Armpits. I was drawing armpits. But I am sure it looks like someone who's girls are in dire need of a little lift. 

See???!? Armpits!

Jesse learned that I am sarcastic. Wait. He learned that a looooong time ago. But he re-learned it again on Friday. He said he was going to happy hour with his work buds but would leave by 7, and bring me home food from Shamrocks. Cuz I was very hungry (and we have sorta been cheating with what we gave up for Lent). And maybe a bit cranky too. Hungry and cranky does not always bring out the best in me. Here is our text message conversation around 7:30. 

On Saturday morning I learned that because of my husband I have had some of the most amazing women in my life. All these ladies below are the wives of Jesse's boys. They all call each other Rubes. We then refer to ourselves as Rubettes. We got together to celebrate the birthday's of Heather (today) and Vanessa (Friday). I was invited out for this annual get together three years ago. It was the first time I hung out with these ladies without Jesse present. I still remember exactly what I wore (a dress that is a little snugger these days). And I still remember being very nervous. A lot has changed in three years. And I am proud to call these ladies some of my closest gal pals. The Rubettes. 

I learned that my very best friend in all the world is Mike. We grew up together in the same small town, were born in the same hospital, and are only five days apart. We didn't become the good friends we are now until our senior year of high school, but have remained close these past eleven years. He seriously completes me. I spent a lot of time at his new pet store over the weekend. Yesterday was a little slow so we entertained ourselves with a dance party. Meaning Mike danced. And I danced while I videotaped. And no, there is no jealousy from Jesse over my close relationship for Mike. One, my husband doesn't get jealous ever (I take care of that for both of us, thankyouverymuch), and two, well...just watch the video and I am sure you'll understand why he is never jealous. ;)

I learned that the Minnesota Timberwolves games are fun to attend (but maybe not as fun as a Twins game). Our friend's, Heather and Aaron acquired free tickets and graciously extended an invitation to us. We love these guys and had a great night together. The picture below makes me laugh. I took it of us in front of the Target Center before meeting up with Heather and Aaron. Jesse's fake, why-does-she-make-me-take-these-pictures-smile. And a very serious looking Lo face. 

I learned how blissful spring in Minnesota is. It was in the 60s all weekend and we gained another hour of daylight. Yes, please. My friend Karla drove up from Winona to go out to lunch (I was really bad with the eating out this weekend) and shopping with Mike and I. I didn't buy a thing. Mike bought me body spray from Victoria Secret. Ha! It was successful shopping trip for the wallet. Jesse was proud. But this place is a few miles from where we will be moving so I am sure we will become reacquainted again. 

And then it was home for walk with the puppers. We put the Doggles on Apple this time. Same result. Definitely not a fan. 

How were your past 48? What did you learn over the weekend? 

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Our drawsome weekend

Freeeeday Letters.

Dear Minnesota.

You are suppose to be in the 60s this week. If I have said it once, I have said it a million times. I love you. I love that you gave us a mild winter this year. Last year was out of control. You confined me to my home on multiple occasions. Always on Saturdays too. However, I think it's a bit ironic that I just purchased a vehicle equipped to handle the tough wintery roads and this year was so unseasonably warm. No worries. I will be paying that baby off for the next couple years so I can just break in that all wheel drive next year. And the year after that. And the year after that. That's right, Minnesota. I don't plan on going anywhere for a while. Are you cool with this? Good. Cuz think I am too.

Dear Me.

What do you want to be when you grow up? That is a completely normal question to ask a 28 year old, right? For a hot minute at the beginning of the year you and that guy you married thought you should make a baby in the near-ish future. Buuuuut I think you know that you should figure YOU out before becoming a party of five, ya know? Yes. Of course I included Apple and Bobo in our party. But where was I? Oh yeah. You are going back to school. You need to tap into some of your passions. And no. You can't include eating your weight in white cheddar Cheezits amongst your passions. You seriously need to stop doing that. Is there a degree in writing blog posts and making (mostly) failed attempts at humoring people? That might be up your alley. Oh, but as for your dream of appearing on SNL someday? That ship might have sailed.

Dear Adam Levine.

You are the face of adult ADHD. I just saw the commercial you star in yesterday. I think whoever put you in that position was a smart person. It made me go online to take the ADHD quiz. Also. I noticed on the commercial that you are a lefty. Meeee tooooo. Creative geniuses are left handed. They also make good major league pitchers. I always joke that is why Jesse married me. So I can birth him a major league lefty or three. Sorry, Adam. I sorta went off onto another subject there. Is that a characteristic of ADHD? Crap. Oh, loving you on The Voice (but I am still Camp CeeLo). Not loving your lady friend's outfit choice for The Grammy's. Pretty sure I couldn't even blow my nose with the amount of material that was needed to make that get up. Gross.

Dear Friday Letters.

You're making me be very open and honest today. It's probably cuz I am writing this late at night, and should probably be snoozing? Oh well. Just being real. I know some people commend me for being so open and honest, while all the while probably saying, "Why I would never be that tactless..." I guess that's cool and stuff. The world needs all sorts to make it go round. Different strokes for different folks.

Dear readers and commenters of yesterday's post.

It was so sweet reading all your comments about Jesse's bonus. Jesse thinks I was being a braggart for talking about it. He is super private about that stuff, whereas I am rarely private about anything (oops). I kinda felt guilty after that. I promise I didn't mean for it to have a braggy undertone. I just wanted to bring light to how awesomely deserving and hardworking my man is. Things like that rarely happen to him. About dang time.

Dear Phyllis the Ferret.

I am glad I met you and got to help pick you out with Mike. We totally rescued you from that scary and icky pet store in the ghetto of St. Paul. I even got to name you. Mike wanted to call you Orgina (don't ask--he is a pervert). So you're welcome for me putting the kabash on that one. We got to work on your hygiene cuz you are majorly stanky, though. Ish.

Dear readers who own smart phones.

Has any of you played Draw Something yet??? Here is one of my most recent masterpieces. Can you guess who it is??? Wanna be drawsome together?

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Freeeeday Letters.

The thousand dollar debacle

Allow me a proud wife moment, will ya?

My husband is a hard worker. And he doesn't complain. He goes to work. He does what he is told. He exceeds his company's expectations. Sometimes he doesn't even take a lunch break. And then he comes home and deals with my issues. I won't go into details of what he does. Because it's probably not that interesting to most who read this. He works for a credit union. It's not rocket science. He isn't fighting crimes. Or curing cancer. But he does help people. And I know he loves being able to do that on a daily basis.

Yesterday he called me on his four second long lunch break to tell me that close to a thousand dollars had shown up in our checking account.

Hold up. What?!?

After some further investigation he learned that it was a bonus of sorts. Pretty cool, eh?

Well. Not so fast. We woke up this morning and the money was no longer in our checking account. And no, it wasn't because I did some late night online shopping while my hard working husband snoozed next to me. I am not that terrible of a wife. Nope. The money was gone because his company took it out of his account. Apparently because they are a credit union they have the right to do that or something? I dunno really. But I do know that I was mighty pissed right off. How could they? Bunch of a-holes.

I guess Jesse got an email from his company today saying that some employees were getting bonuses, and if they were to receive one that their supervisor would inform them. Well Jesse was never informed. So we just assumed that he was not one of the lucky bonus recipients. I will admit. I cried a little. Not so much because we didn't have the money. Sure. It sure would have been nice. Especially with our move coming up (moving is expensive!).

Do you know how much I had to pay these folks last time we moved?? 

No. I cried (like the sissy baby that I am) because it made me so mad that my husband works so hard and didn't get any recognition from his company when others around him were. Like seriously you guys, Jesse is good at what he does. Customers have sent emails to the company thanking them for Jesse's exceptional service. He volunteered to work several long days of overtime for two months last year. And just recently a customer needed her bank card right that day, but couldn't get it because she didn't drive. What did my husband do? Instead of saying, "Tough luck, Grams.", he got in his car and drove across the Twin Cities so she could have it that very day. I know I am his wife, but I think the guys deserved a little somethin'-somethin'.

Well.........long story short, his supervisor did end up getting in touch with him today. I guess it was a fluke that money went in there yesterday. Not because he didn't deserve it. But because it wasn't suppose to go in until TOMORROW!!!

Here is my not-so-ladylike conversation with Jesse today via text about the whole debacle.

He called me on his way home from work and told me the rest of the saga. Apparently not everyone got a bonus. And very few people that have been with the company as little as Jesse has (he started this past July) got one. But they have seen how hard he has been working. How he has been going above and beyond. And they wanted to reward him. By giving him close to a thousand dollars.

So now do you see why I am so proud? Jesse isn't doing what he thought he'd be doing at this point in his life. He didn't graduate with a double major so he could work at a credit union at 30 years of age. But I think that's why this is so much more awesome. Sometimes life doesn't hand you your dream job right away. And sometimes you learn that while you're not doing your dream job, you can still be damn good at it. That's my husband. That guy that thought I was worth marrying.

I am done tootin' my proud wife horn. Jesse just got home work. And I made him a delicious meal of tater tots and chocolate milk to celebrate. And we are watching the Minnesota state hockey tournament. And we might even watch a few episodes of Wonder Years on Netflix later. Pretty wild and crazy night up in here.

So tell me. What would you do with a thousand dollars? ◦

The thousand dollar debacle

Doggles

My friend, Mike just recently opened up his own pet store. Pet Evolution. Like them on the Facebooks if ya want. It has all sorts of goodies for our pupperonis, and is only a hop, skip, and a couple jumps away from where we will be dwelling come May. This makes me happy.

Bobo recently got a new pair of eye wear during one of our visits.

His very own pair of Doggles. To protect his one baby blue and one brown eye (yes, just like his namesake, David Bowie).

We're not quite sure he is a fan, though. I took a video of him tonight, and much like when we put clothes on him, he did not move a muscle while sportin' the doggles. If I could see his eyes there is no doubt they'd be shooting daggers at his mean mamma. I can't help but laugh me butt off when this happens. And take video of him in his sad state of affairs. And yes. I totally snorted at the end and that's why I stopped recording.

So spill it. What's the worst thing you've done to your puppy kids? Or kitty kids? Or just human kids. I want to hear it. Surely Bobo doesn't have it that bad. Or does he? I fully admit that I deserve it every time he takes a crap in the house. ◦

Doggles

Oh for the love of spring

I know I have mentioned this before, but it's worth mentioning again. Did you know that Minnesota has more shoreline than Florida, California, and Hawaii combined? True statement.

Today the temp hit above 50 in Minneapolis. It's a first for the season. It's true that we've had a mild winter, but there is still nothing like the first couple warm days in Minnesota. At least for me there isn't.

People emerge from their places of hibernation. Stroller strides with the kiddos. Joggers donning short. Unfathomable to most, but definitely a common occurrence around these parts. Of course I don't wear shorts. Because that would require me to shave my legs. I know. My husband is one lucky lad.

Definitely a perk of my current job is that I get to be out and about when the weather is nice like it was today. 

I even got to have some one on one with Ainsley this afternoon, and experience the joy of jumping in mud puddles through her eyes. If you've never done this in your adult life, then I strongly recommend you do. It's cathartic.

I couldn't help but snap a photo of this mishap before rescuing the little monster. It's going to be bittersweet not seeing her (and her brother's) face every morning after the summer hits. Reminding myself to cherish all these moments now. The good, the bad, and the dirty. 

I let my hair go natural today. It's got quite a bit of curl naturally. I kinda forget about that. Also, does anyone else think they look way better with sunglasses on? I am borrowing these from my friend, Suzy. I have had them since we went to the State Fair this past summer. I hope she doesn't miss them too much. 

See? No sunglasses on and I look constipated. I did take this picture while in the bathroom at the doctor's office today. So maybe I was? Wouldn't you like to know. Actually, I am sure you don't. Sorry for going there. I wasn't constipated. 

And it was this Italian jumping bean that greeted me at the door this evening. He is all sorts of naughty. 

Hope you had a good day today. Has spring sprung where you are yet?? 

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Oh for the love of spring