This Post Is Dressed Like A Dork For Halloween, But It Was Either This Or The Domino Costume Again

The night is dark, dank, and smells faintly of Dove Powder Fresh underarm deodorant. The power is out on your street and you sit struggling to read by the light of the fireplace wondering, "How did Abraham Lincoln do this? Between this, emancipation and the whole axe thing he's totally number one on my Greatest US President's list." Then you hear it. From the fireplace comes the faint tinny tones of, "You are the candle, loves the flame. A fire that burns through wind and rain.... Said I loved you, but I lied. This is more than love I feel inside..."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bwahahahaha! Velcome to Halloveeeen! (gestures evilly with her hand for you to enter)

Three, count them, one, two, three! Bwahaha! Three things that give me the heebie-jeebies (besides Michael Bolton and power outages). Read them, IF YOU DARE!!

1. Stalkers.

Yeah. I found this on my car, people. At FRED MEYER! Seriously. Back off. And next time? Sign your name, please. Because if you're going to stalk me, turn about is only fair play.

2. Evil that comes with it's own controller.

"It's sucking our brains! It's sucking our brains!"

At least zombies can be decapitated with chainsaws. (And I mean real zombies, people. Not those fake ones in Tetris or the Indiana Jones Lego game. Geesh!)

3. The Droid phone commercials.

Let me show you.

First, this droid reference will give you nightmares.

While this droid makes you want to give him a big hug.

Shhhhhhhhh.... little guy! There's Michelin men around the corner!!

And just when you thought it was safe to dive into the Internets again....

Taking Advice From Your Gardening Glove ROCKS!

Because a glove told me to, I boarded a plane and flew for 8 hours across the country. With a four month old. By myself. Where I learned nothing says, "Welcome to your vacation!" like hearing the captain announce your final decent while balancing a brand new puddle of sloshing baby poop in your lap.

Because a glove told me to, I sprinted through the airport terminal sprinkling liquid feces left and right and piled into a mini van filled with my college besties*!

Because a glove told me to, we partied! Just like in college! But with more pumpkins and less country dancing.**

Yes. We've always been this cool.

Because a glove told me to, I stayed up much later than my 9:30 mommy bedtime, discussing, um, world news and stuff.... Seriously! See:

Jenn: Oh my goodness! The Chilean miners are being rescued!
Me: Yay!
Aingel: They hadn't been rescued yet?
Jenn: Can you imagine seeing light for the first time in two months?
Scooby: I know, it's a tragedy, but a happy one.

Actual conversation fueled by M&M's transcribed for your entertainment from our actual hotel room. Nothing else was discussed outside of world news. Except literature. And classical music. And you know, other smart people stuff. Oops... and pumpkins. I let that one slip-sorry guys! (I'm trying my hardest to have your back besties!! Um....You guys are still going to watch mine even though I apparently can't stop using the word "besties", right? please?)

Because a glove told me to, I moonwalked my way down the aisle of the flight home and answered every Flight Attendant's question with a crotch grab 'n pop. Wait. That may not have been the right glove....


*I can NOT get this word out of my head!
**Believe me. It's just as embarrassing for me to type "country dancing" as it is for you to read. At least you don't have the mental picture of me dancing like a stiff jointed Barbie doll to Shaina Twain's "Man! I Feel Like A Woman!" stuck in your head.




Then again, maybe you do.

I Don't Have A Clue How This Happened

I've been working in the yard lately. Something tells me I may need a vacation.

Disclaimer: I've never flipped anyone the bird in my entire life. Really! I'm not kidding!



Okaaaayyyy.

There was that one time when I was substituting in a 4th grade classroom. I was going over the vocabulary words on the board and I realized I'd been flipping the whole class off for about five minutes. In hind sight, I should have talked in an English accent the rest of the day. It would have made everything way less embarrassing.*

*But not as embarrassing as the time I told the story about Deadwood Dick and bulldogging to a bunch of 5th graders. Don't worry. I only teach Sunday School now.