An Unintentional Transformers Reference And A Lack Of Baseball Knowledge (And Those Are The Post's Good Points)

I am currently choosing between showering and writing up a blog post. I could do both, I suppose.......... But, really, who do I think I am? Super Blogger and Good Personal Hygiene Woman? I mean, that's just a lame premise for a superhero, and, the name? Doesn't really roll off the tongue, or strike fear into an evil villain's heart. Wait. Do super villains even have hearts? Or do they get that from OZ? Man, this paragraph stinks like my armpits tomorrow morning. I'm such a Justice League of America poser. It's pretty obvious I was more enamored with Little House on the Prairie than Wonder Woman as a child, isn't it?

And, on that note of my momentary lapse in my cleansing regimen aka things you didn't want to know about me, I'm sharing more. Yep! A whole list of things I'm hiding from the world, in fear of their subsequent mocking and judgement. And, since we're besties, you and I, I'm confident there will be no jeering at my buffoonery*.

1. I've been to Forks. And had my picture taken in front of Bella Swan's house. And the police station.

2. I liked to pet saguaros when I was growing up.

3. The last time I changed the oil in my truck was just before Katie was born. She turns four next week.

4. I hide organic toaster pastries (read Pop-Tarts) and eat them like the Cookie Monster after the girls are in bed.

5. Jon doesn't know where I hide the Pop-Tarts. And if he knows what's good for him, he won't go looking either. (insert menacing Don't-Touch-My-Coffee-Or-Secret-Pop-Tarts-Glare here) Seriously. I know where you sleep.

6. I joined Fly Lady. Then one night while I was shining my sink I realized it had turned me into Petunia Dursley.

7. The only movies I've seen in four years have been either about teenage vampire angst or adventuring teenage wizards.

8. I had my Sunday school kids turn a Bible verse into a Mad-Lib:

In addition to all this, lift up the shield of faith, with which Bobby can fart all the holy cats of the green one.

Ephesians 6:16.

And while the class and I rolled on the floor in a fit of uncontrollable tittering I dubbed that morning as the BEST SUNDAY SCHOOL LESSON EVER!

9. I daydream about my old lavender bicycle with the white walled tires and six inches of padding on it's extra wide seat during each and every bike ride during triathlon season.

10. I started a blog and in a week full of stress and double ended projectile fluids, I wrote this list.

One million, billion, cajillion, wazzooillion points, a box of mac and cheese and the realization that you are the most awesome bestie EVER to the first person to correctly guess which of my deep dark secrets I am the most ashamed to have flung up on the megatron that is the internet. No bonus points for original submissions.

*I wanted to say "there will be no jeering at my siamangery" but apparently Miriam-Webster.com doesn't recognize siamangery as a word. Batty, right!?! That's why I think their site is run by a bunch of benighted zoological iguanoramooses. (This is the height of my animal related humor.)

This Week Didn't Even Throw Me An Obligatory Papaya. How Messed Up Is That?

I've spent a fruitless week. Not only have more days gone by where I've spent more time cleaning toilets than being outside running like a wounded gazelle through waist deep snow, I've also failed to create a fake sister named Betsey on Facebook in order to peg all past, present and future sisterly weirdness on. Nor have I figured out how to rid my Wally the Owl puppet of his menacing glare.

Dude just looks like he's going to wallop me over the head with those flowers.

I've also proved my laziness in my failure to sign up for a FREE Franchise Information Seminar to "Find out how the global leader in convenience retailing makes it easy to run my own business!" I mean, their ICONIC PRODUCTS (aka Slurpees!) alone would do all the work for me.

Don't worry, I derogatorily nicknamed myself "Lazy Slurpee Butt" for you, 7-Eleven. You're welcome.

I even searched through thousands of pictures on Amazon, Ebay, Craig's List, Etsy and Google Shopping and all I have to show for it is this lame picture:

I tried so hard to find you all your own copy of my epically awesome TURKEY! poster. The fact that this lame-o turkey poster costs $289.99 makes me once again appreciate the perfection and iconicness of my TURKEY! poster. (Like I ever stopped!) Then, I felt bad for all of you. Because, as Katie and I agree, what makes TURKEY! so awesome is the fact that some artist had the brilliant idea to print the word TURKEY! across a picture of a turkey.

Because, let's be realistic here people, without that? It's a totally stupid poster. So, here's the deal. I give you permission to download my TURKEY! poster picture and blow it up to at least 20X40 (feet), frame and hang it over your living room couch. But here's the catch. If you do, you have to send me a photo and/or $289.99 or I'll send Wally the Owl after you, and dude, guy just got wicked scary.

I'm Like Martha Stewart But With Better Taste In Wall Fashions

So tonight I was sitting in front of my computer diligently searching randomly for "chicken backpacks", "show tunes sung by farm animals", "why I would date Edward Cullen" and "shrimp" when Jon said, "I don't understand your turkey poster. And, um, why is it hung in my office?"

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Exactly. That was my first reaction too. But, to be fair, Jon's definition of awesome is a little skewed. I mean, currently he's watching Korean sword demonstrations on YouTube. (Which I can only assume are posted by Korea's version of The Society for Creative Anachronism.) So, yeah. Not the world's hippest man. I mean, the guy hasn't even seen Twilight! (collective gasp!)

Now, I know you guys know why my TURKEY! poster is awesome. I mean, you make morada siamang references and flash your blingy ring watches all around your neighborhood while chugging coffee and debating the similarities and differences between Michael Pericoloso and Starburns. But Jon? He's just not as culturally relevant as the rest of us. I blame the computers. They aren't all mildly entertaining blogged drivel and cute dancing penguins. They're also geek MakerBots.

So, Jon. This one is for you! (insert cheesy gun point and wink here, also, note to self: wear mint green lounge suit)

First, it's not a turkey poster. It's a TURKEY! poster. Huge difference there dude. Plus it's awesome.

It's awesome because one day when I was six my parents took me to Vegas where they had an all night skee ball tournament. It was EPIC! Tickets were shooting out of my skee ball machine faster than a cheetah with the Hershey squirts. Then, as the early morning began to peak over that rhinestoned horizon I corralled all my tickets and traded them in for the most awesome poster in the world! Plus, my sister rolled her eyes when I hugged it tight in my wee little arms. Best. Poster. EVER.*

Fast forward nine years later (Don't do the math. It's just embarrassing.) and there I am, happily sleeping my nights away in my room decorated with not only my TURKEY! poster but, The Declaration of Independence, two wolf posters, an original poem written by me in fifth grade, a cow mobile, a picture of a cat, and a huge "Welcome To Lake Havasu" poster. Obviously my dream room. Then, my sister (you remember her, the eye roller? Yeah. That one.) walks by and says, "You need to redecorate." Then, before I even knew what was happening I was sleeping in a room with lace curtains, pink book shelves, and every cat poster she could find. Cats on ladders. Cats in trees. Cats in paint cans. Cats on books. Cats in hats. Cats on rustic benches. Cats with yarn. Cats racing through fields of buttercups. It was like living in Lolcats. But with pink rose sheets. My TURKEY! poster? Gone. Tossed aside in the mad shuffle to tack one more fluffy kitten to my bedroom walls.

Fast forward eight years later and I'm packing up my room after college graduation, when, I see it, tucked in the corner of my Barbie cluttered closet, rising from the ashes like some mythological beast of spirit and fire, tail feathers of gold, waddle of incarnadine, my TURKEY! poster reborn anew to live again!

And, that, Jon, is why the TURKEY! poster is the embodiment of all that is awesome. Everyone should be so lucky to have a copy of TURKEY! in their office. Plus the color of your office walls really bring out the amber tints in TURKEY!'s eyes.

*This is either the true story of how I got my TURKEY! poster or there were aliens involved. And angels. But not Elvis, because that would be stupid.