tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47464644687649422402009-02-20T22:40:18.560-06:00Nenonoreply@blogger.comBlogger110125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-65435171814199996882008-02-08T08:25:00.000-06:002008-02-08T08:36:52.266-06:00

If you hate memes, blame Gretchen. I'm debating how honest to be here. But I think you all already know what a geek I am. Also, I'm more of a song lover than an album lover. So there's that.1. Ani DiFranco - Out of Range2. Poe - Hello3. Rilo Kiley - More Adventurous4. Young MC - Stone Cold Rhymin'5. Dixie Chicks - Home6. Metallica - Metallica7. Stone Temple Pilots - Core8. Nirvana -

Nenonoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-9273145254714794702008-01-03T08:24:00.001-06:002008-01-03T08:25:23.419-06:00

Someone recently broke in to my car and littered it with fast food bags and donut sacks. No really. What do you think I am, some kind of fucking pig? Who secretly binges on gluten when she's out of the house? Pffffft.

Nenonoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-46712843289523792052007-12-13T08:43:00.000-06:002007-12-13T09:00:14.075-06:00

How long does a grapefruit need to sit on your desk at work before eating it will get you drunk? Just wondering.Speaking of booze, I went to the grocery store last night to finish up my Christmas shopping in the liquor department. But lord, I didn't want anyone to think I was a boozer or anything, so I bought some yogurt. And some diet bread. Now they just think I'm single and lonely.I never buy

Nenonoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-18802885397382647962007-12-04T10:35:00.000-06:002007-12-04T10:39:22.461-06:00

Him: Hello?Me: Do you have the Die Hards on DVD already?Him: No.Me: Oh. Because I just, you know, wanted to call and learn more about you. Bye now.Him: Um. Bye.Also: Why does my pee always smell like Honey Smacks? TMI. Sorry.And additionally: If you have a four-wheel drive vehicle and you meet an economy car on the street (like a Toyota Corolla, for example) and the streets are all snowy and

Nenonoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-28890319787126036612007-12-04T07:41:00.000-06:002007-12-04T07:47:30.233-06:00

Six months ago or so, I remembered something. An image of a wet drum being played. Was it rain? Was it milk? Maybe even blood? I did not know. I asked my real life friends. I asked my friends from these here Internets. I looked at 5,459 You Tube videos. It wasn't Phil Collins. It wasn't Poison. It wasn't Def Leppard's one-armed drummer, no. For half a year it plagued me, and I thought about it

Nenonoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-42991144988547317882007-12-03T08:07:00.000-06:002007-12-03T08:09:26.840-06:00

Me: Hey, bud, do you want to leave your socks on for bedtime, or do you want to take them off?D: Dahhhghhh.Me: Off. Or. On. D: Glllahhhh.Me: Should I take them off? Yes. Or. No. ?D: I. Don't. Know. Mom.Um, oh.

Nenonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-12267659420428077822007-11-30T13:50:00.000-06:002007-11-30T14:06:32.970-06:00

I think it's cool that firestations have poles to slide down, apparently because stairs take too long. Which makes me wonder why there aren't poles like that in hospitals.Fire = hurry! rush!Heart attack = Fuck you. I don't hurry for you. You wait for the elevator like a civilized dying person, god damn it.Cat stuck in tree = No time for stairs! Cat! Might! Die! Of... well we're not really sure, I

Nenonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-59507350462245163282007-11-28T07:28:00.000-06:002007-11-28T07:37:40.392-06:00

This is probably going to piss you off. I'm sorry. Also, I should preface this by saying I have never had a dog, and will never had a dog, mostly because the licking reminds me too much of my 7th grade boyfriend. Ew.So. When I look at the way people treat their dogs and treat their children, sometimes I feel like an alien living in some strange place where I don't understand the customs.

Nenonoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-76694728928636363142007-11-16T09:00:00.000-06:002007-11-16T09:02:37.752-06:00

Janet are? (Where is Janet at? Janet would be his lovey, named after his grandma.)Find it more.Spiderman 2. Watch it. Now. Peese.Choco Milk! Choco Milk!Mom? Mom? Mom? Mom? DAD!Poop. Butt. Funny.

Nenonoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-81392310520046990462007-11-14T11:44:00.000-06:002007-11-14T11:49:51.207-06:00

Me: Why does Angel have to make fun of Weir like that? Like he didn't take enough shit on Freaks and Geeks?Him: What the...? You know that we're watching a totally different show, right?Me: So?Him: So, his name is Booth on this.Me: So?Him: Um... you completely get lost in this world, don't you?Me: Is it my fault that these people exist purely for my entertainment or that Angel is totally in

Nenonoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-51740747528628010452007-10-30T09:16:00.000-06:002007-10-30T09:20:03.193-06:00

I used to love seeing photos of Jennifer Garner with her adorable little girl. They seem so happy and normal and they go to the park and laugh and giggle. It's really sweet, and different from what most of Hollywood is like.But then I started thinking, damn, doesn't that kid ever cry? Don't they ever have a bad day? Because my kids certainly don't look that happy all the time. They whine

Nenonoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-43746665911860744482007-10-29T08:48:00.000-06:002007-10-29T08:50:24.241-06:00

Husband: What did they eat for lunch?Me: Hot dogs. Pretzels. Grapes. Cheese. And scrambled egg yolks........ with ketchup.Husband: Why? Why do you do this? Ketchup on eggs? It's just wrong.Me: Because they didn't get my eyes, that's why.

Nenonoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-90068044682014224692007-10-27T13:44:00.000-06:002007-10-27T13:45:58.113-06:00

E: I can read this box all by myself.Me: You can? What does it say?E: Beer. Was. in. Here.

Nenonoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-73768965026433626432007-10-24T13:53:00.000-06:002007-10-24T14:25:48.906-06:00

I recently got out a set of pictures to show my parents. See? This is me at 3, I told them, because they don't particularly remember me at 3 (or 12 or 25), doesn't my little girl look like me? I asked. And I saw the picture that I submitted to my high school year book's baby page. A hundred or so babies, laughing and smiling, silly and chubby. Except me. I chose a picture of myself sitting

Nenonoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-37177042579978829352007-10-18T08:07:00.001-06:002007-10-18T08:07:23.964-06:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YoI07Mjt3b4

Nenonoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-44208200051089223112007-10-12T09:51:00.000-06:002007-10-12T09:59:28.512-06:00

Three and a half. Already.Where to start? Kind. Generous. Smart. Funny. Beautiful. Particular. Emotional. Exuberant. Coy. Wonderful. Blessing.For every ounce that you make me crazy (by being just like me), are pounds worth of missing you when I'm not with you.For every second of frustration, hours of joy.For every penny of annoyance, dollars of love.In every way to measure, you are the person who

Nenonoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-33116846284454505352007-10-09T07:12:00.001-06:002007-10-09T07:20:18.577-06:00

Today, in just a few minutes, you turn 18 months old. You're funny. And silly. You named your lovey after your grandma. You think your dad is hilarious. (You are correct.) You like to jump on the bed and hide under blankets and tickle Mom. You're smart. You can count to 20. You know most of your colors, most of the time. You speak in three-word sentences, and sometimes more. You know the

Nenonoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-35812667486302935102007-10-05T12:15:00.000-06:002007-10-05T12:20:30.331-06:00

Me and E:Me: Those are some crazy tights you have on.E: They aren't crazy. They're FANCY.Me: Oh. Naturally.Husband and Cop Who Pulled Him Over:Cop: Do you know why I pulled you over?Husband: Um. No, not really.Cop: It's because you're going 28 in a 20.Husband: Well. Isn't it 25 here? Not that that's an excuse, I'm just wondering. (Me: Totally an excuse, dude.)Cop: No. [Street A] is 20 on

Nenonoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-17947398169291396822007-10-04T11:05:00.000-06:002007-10-04T11:08:21.490-06:00

Conversation during carpool.Me: Mommy went to the library and picked up a new Froggy book for you, E!E: Yay! [Classmate], do you know about Froggy? He is funny. His Mom says, "Froooogy!" and then he says, "Whaaaaat?" It's good.[Classmate]: I went hunting. I shot a gun.Um. Oh. Yikes.

Nenonoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-40553434638420587042007-09-28T13:36:00.001-06:002007-09-28T13:39:48.386-06:00

Husband and I will soon celebrate our 14th anniversary of crazy crazy love. He was 17 when I met him, which explains this:Me: Gawd. When did you get all that chest hair? Ew.Him: I don't know.Me: They look like pubes. Boob pubes. Ha ha you have boob pubes. Him: This. This is why I love you.Me: I know.

Nenonoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-5252809307129324012007-09-11T15:03:00.000-06:002007-09-11T15:08:11.004-06:00

Husband: You can cut these shirts up into rags, if you want.Neno: Oh? OHHH! OOOOOOH! I remember this shirt! I smoked all the Marlboros and then I actually rooted around in garbage to earn the miles to send in to get this shirt free!Husband: Um, yeah.Neno: And then I wore it and my mom was all, "[Neno]! How can you walk around wearing a shirt selling cigarettes?" And then I was all, "SHUT UP

Nenonoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-19437747633787663222007-09-11T12:36:00.000-06:002007-09-11T12:37:32.996-06:00

Mystery solved:The hottest Wiggle? By far, Anthony *as* Captain Feathersword. If you haven't seen the very oldest of the videos that include this rare and fine treat, I highly recommend it.

Nenonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-31382395671923819162007-09-11T12:32:00.000-06:002007-09-11T12:38:37.744-06:00

E: Mom?Me: Yep?E: Um, why did we give [Classmate] a ride home from school again today?Me: Because her mommy doesn't drive.E: Why?Me: Because her mommy is sick, sweetie.E: But she was sick last time.Me: We'll be driving [Classmate] home every day, because her mommy is sick every day. She has a disease called MS that means her body doesn't work very well right now.E: She's sick all the time?Me:

Nenonoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-72708033743828442372007-09-04T07:58:00.000-06:002007-09-04T07:59:51.721-06:00

I know that we did things a little differently. Other than grandparents, no babysitters, and even that, not that often. No daycare. Three meals a day, together, as a family, at the table. Every. Day. Everything that we do, we do together, as a family. And, to be honest, it wasn't easy. I know moms who eat lunch out while their kids are in daycare. I know parents who drop the kids off at

Nenonoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4746464468764942240.post-73095028555562702872007-08-29T08:40:00.000-06:002007-08-29T08:44:53.138-06:00

D: Hunnnnnnry hunnnnry hunnnnry hunnnnry hunnnnryParent: Are you hungry?D: Hunnnnnnnry hunnnnnnry hunnnnnry dwink dwink dwink dwink dwinkParent: And thirsty?D: Wgggggggggg wggggggggggg wggggggggggggg wgggggggggParent: And you want to watch the Wiggles?D: (Nods, with entire body) Cook eggs, meanwhile D points at the stove and shouts: HOT! HOT! HOT! HOT! HOT! HOT!Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Nenonoreply@blogger.com0