Friday Wrapup

It’s Friday and everyone in New York is at Super Bowl Blvd. or whatever the heck that is. Basically, from what I've gathered, it's a bunch of football stuff and then a big blow up toboggan ride in the middle of Times Square with hoards of people wearing various jerseys and winter hats circling around it talking about football. Or what we like to call “Exactly what Times Square is always like.”

Let’s get to it!

***

Speaking of the SuperBowl, CB and I actually watched an entire half hour show the other night that was all about SuperBowl commercials. And then we complained about how many commercials they kept showing during the television show about commercials. So basically, aliens would never want to invade our apartment because we’re the most boring people in the universe.

However, I’m not alone when I say that the commercials can be the best part of SuperBowl Sunday. Except for when they’re absolutely awful, like those Fiat commercials or any commercial about pharmaceuticals and the risks involved with taking them. 

And while I know this isn’t a commercial premiering on Sunday, it’s still one of my favorites in the last month or so because it pretty accurately just describes life. 

***

I'm ashamed of myself that I still haven't written about any books that I've read and now you're all being punished for it because there's no book of the week. I'm the worst. 

So you tell me - what are YOU guys reading? (also, I promise to update the book blog next week!)

***

I'm (a) impressed and (b) not embarrassed by the number of you who emailed me about Chicago's performance on the Grammy's. Yes, it was the best moment of my week and yes, it did inspire me to drink out of my Chicago mug. 

This is not an illusion. It actually happens at my home.

***

Uh, I dare you not to laugh. 

***

And now...the Video of the Week! This is simply because I love Sara Bareilles and this song. 

Happy Friday, everyone! 

Conversations from Cohabitation

While talking about staying healthy and getting older last night….

Me: “I mean, I just want to make sure that we’re doing whatever we can to make sure our third act is fun and productive. Because the second act is pretty awesome so far.”
CB: “What’s our third act?”
Me: “The last third of our lives. Like, the first act was 0-30, the second act is now until we’re in our 60s, and then the third act is the rest until we die.”
CB: “That’s a lovely thought…..”

Pause

CB: “Wait, how many acts are in a play?”
Me: “I think three? Maybe four? Except maybe I’m confusing that with sports.”

Pause.

Me: “But I mean, the better care we take of ourselves and each other now, the better odds we have of being able to enjoy our third act!”
CB: “Wait, but your grandmother is in her 90s. What act is that?”
Me: “Her third, I guess. Or maybe her encore?”
CB, laughing: “Yeah, it seems like your third act is a lot longer than the rest.”
Me: “If we’re lucky. Or maybe we could split it into quarters, like a football game? So either way, we’re in our second something.”
CB: “You’re just excited to get to your third or fourth quarter or act because your age will finally catch up with your sleep schedule.”
Me: “It’s true. I’m going to be the best older person. I can’t wait.”
CB: “Your sleep schedule will finally make sense and my old person vernacular will finally make sense.”
Me: “We’re going to be kick ass old people.”

Pause.

CB: “If someone had told me in my first quarter what was in store for me in this second quarter, I’d ask them to pull me from the game.”
Me, laughing: “I hate you.”
CB: “Pull me out, coach! I’m done! Hurry!”
Me: “Nobody in this house finds you funny.”
 

***

The other night I walked into the living room with my hair in a messy bun on top of my head, in sweatpants, no makeup, and an allergic reaction rash on my chest.

CB: “Wow….”
Me: “I know.”

Silence while CB stared.

Me: “I’m going to be your wife!”
CB, still staring: “Yes, yes you are….”
Me: “Sorry,  I didn’t mean that in a threatening way. I’ll go back into the bedroom now.”
CB: “Thanks.”

Happy Wednesday, everyone! 

And then I made it weird by being me.

Wedding’s can be strange. The mere mention of a wedding to some people literally turns them into hyper-vigilant opinion monsters who are willing you to have the exact wedding they wish they’d have if money were no object and they were Disney princesses.

I mean, it can happen anywhere and when you least expect it. For example, this morning I ran into an acquaintance who casually asked how wedding planning was going while we got our morning cups of coffee. I replied that it was going well, pretty stress-free at the moment, actually. You know, easy breezy, like I am.

And then she replied with a five minute diatribe about everything I was doing wrong regarding the planning and why I should really start thinking about panicking a lot since it’s “only six and a half months away!”

First of all, the fact that this semi-stranger knew more accurately when I was getting married than I did was mildly terrifying and simultaneously impressive. Second of all, it’s clear they don’t know me well enough to know that I’m more than capable of turning non-stressful-to-mildly-stressful moments into full-on mental meltdowns, so her advice in that arena was not needed.

However, I’m well aware of the fact that my seeming inability to get crazy over chrysanthemums is something somewhat foreign, even to those closest to me. I mean, we all know how I went about buying my wedding dress, so this time around when I went for my first fitting, Beth came along for moral support, to be the staff photographer, and to help me not feel like the devil when I mentally (and then sometimes out loud) judged people who were trying on wedding dresses that had lace vests.

First of all, I don’t believe I’ll ever get used to the idea of standing semi-naked in front of anyone non-amorously, especially while simultaneously trying to be modest by not boobing my friend in the head while leaning over to get into the dress. Sorry, B.

Second of all, trying on your wedding dress is awesome. I mean, it’s hard not to feel somewhat bride-y while standing there in a dress worth more than most everything else that you own. And it’s really hard not to feel bride-y when Beth is standing there tearing up while taking pictures of you semi-dressed saying “you’re in your wedding dress!” over and over.

We had a moment, you guys.

Um, there was an
actual Disney princess
getting fitted in the room
with me, you guys!

However, that moment quickly dissipated when I wouldn’t give her the every pose that she wanted “Ok, now turn over here”, “Now look this way”, “Smile for the camera! This is going to your mom!”

Also, it’s possible that after staring at myself from every conceivable angle for 12 minutes, I turned to Beth and we had this conversation in public:

Me: “I’m definitely going to need my booty bump in this dress, aren’t I?”
Beth: “You are the only person in American who would think of that while in their wedding dress.”
Me: “Whatever, I’m not wrong.”
Beth, staring at me from every angle: “Yeah, you probably will want it.”
Me: “I rest my case.”

Moment over.

Happy Monday!

Friday Wrapup

OHMYGODIT’SFRIDAY. Let’s get to it.

So later today I have my wedding dress fitting and I’m feeling pretty good, you guys! Probably because this doesn’t involve any actual shopping and is the first time I’ll get to see the dress that’s actually mine and not what one billion other women have tried on and discarded.

Plus, I’ll get to put it on and twirl around and make the strangers around me feel uncomfortable when I repeatedly ask them if I look pretty. But if I’m being honest, I think I’m most excited to see how awesome my sparkle heels look with the dress.  

Yes, of course I bought sparkle heels. Are you new?

I’ll let you know how it goes on Monday, but I ate pizza last night and had a glass of wine, so I’m guessing the dress will fit like a charm and I will not cry.  

***

Speaking of the dress fitting, I had to wake up an hour earlier so I could leave early from work today to make it to the appointment. And this is basically what I feel like now at my desk, except none of my coworkers will rub my belly because they're the worst. 

***

This week's book review is a terrific one about "The Reason I Jump." It's a book about a man with autism who explains why he does the things he does, giving some potential insight into what can be a very complicated disorder. Click here to check it out and browse around for some other great recommendations! 

***

And now, the video of the week. Basically because it makes me happy AND because I try to sing these things to CB sometimes and then he's like "Do you want to see how some quiet time feels for a few hours?" 

Happy Friday, everyone! (and keep sending me funny links, videos, stories, etc. for the wrapup - I love 'em!)

Someone finally understands my underpants woes

So last night I felt underpants-understood for the first time in my life. There was a whole article in some magazine about the right type of underpants to wear if they’re always falling down. And it even had diagrams and I was like “Yes! Yes! That is a diagram of my exact body shape and issues!”

And so I took a picture of the article and diagram so that I could share it with you all, dear readers, and show you that I’m not alone in this cruel, dark world.

This is what my bedroom looks like in nighttime.

Um, what? 

That is the picture of the article that I took. And the reason it’s a picture of darkness is because I took  A SLEEP PICTURE.

That’s right, I took a picture of a magazine article that only appeared in my most colorful of dreams and then somehow sleep-unlocked my phone and took a picture of nothing at all. And then went to bed. And then woke up thinking it was real and checked my phone to make sure I’d remembered to take the photo. And then was like “oh crap. I was asleep.”

BUT, then I auto-corrected the photo and look what I got! 

I think this is a picture of my room when it's being haunted.

Ok, first of all, that looks like daylight and there was no daylight. Second, I think those are ghost images being reflected off of my bed and floor. I mean, I'm no ghost expert, but I'm pretty sure. So I'm 99% positive that CB and I are being haunted, but likely by nice ghosts? Because I have pleasant dreams and also always feel cheery and well-rested when I wake up. Thanks, ghosts! 

Anyway, this isn’t a real post because I was going to blog about something that’s not real (thank God I ended up blogging about ghosts instead.) 

So...happy Wednesday! Don't get haunted! 

Friday Wrapup!

I'm late, I'm late. Let's get to it!

***

You guys. I have a friend who hates pandas.

I KNOW.

This was an exchange we had yesterday, which literally came out of nowhere, because people who hate pandas make no sense.

Friend who hates pandas: I hate panda bears because they are stupid and evolution would have killed them years ago except that we as a culture have decided they're adorable and keep them alive. I mean, these are bears that live in the mountains and only eat bamboo. That's INSANE. God doesn't want you alive.
Me:  I love panda bears and you're a monster.
FWHP: You know Pandas are stupid, right? They're bears that don't eat meat, live in the freezing cold on top of a mountain, eat only bamboo which doesn't grow where they live, and then don't hibernate because they don't have enough fat storage to make it through the winter. And we're wasting tax dollars to keep them alive because they're cute. And they're not even smart. Of all the bears, they're like the dumbest.
Me: Did a panda eat your best friend when you were little or something?
FWHP: It's just a total waste of money, man. TOTAL WASTE. I'm cute and no one is keeping me alive. 

And then I sent him this gif.

(ok, it wasn't exactly that one. But the one I sent him had a curse in it that would be unlady-like of me to post. So I replaced it with this adorable panda that will make him as unhappy as the other one I sent him.)

***

I'm disgusted with myself, and sort of with my family in general, that we have apparently thought that we had betting things to do this week than post about the books we've been reading.

Also, I'm probably the worst one because I've read three books and haven't posted about any of them. Worst blogger ever.

Sorry! But still head on over for some great reviews that happened not this week. Click here.

***

Ohmygod this is the best thing to ever happen to my Friday life. Remember when I had this reaction to hearing a Whitney Houston song at a wedding?

God help everyone at our wedding when Whitney plays.

Video of the Week. Obv. I'm sort of surprised I even had to tell you that. Happy Friday!

Conversations from Cohabitation

*Sorry to those of you who emailed me wondering why I didn't post yesterday. I'M SORRY I FORGOT IT WAS WEDNESDAY. Which is frustrating because did you guys know that today isn't Friday? Anyway, here you go! 

While talking about the weather that has been unseasonably warm this week (low-mid 50s)

Me: “I was talking to Andy yesterday on the way to the gym and he mentioned how nice the weather was. I immediately corrected him that this isn’t ‘nice.’”
CB: “There’s something seriously wrong with you.”
Me: “No. I totally love this weather – in March and April when it’s supposed to be like this. But in the winter I expect overcast and 15 degrees. That makes me happy.”
CB: “You are the craziest person I know.”
Me: “I’m serious! I mean, honestly, the best winter days are the days where it’s sunny and it’s 15 degrees and you’re like ‘Wow, what a gorgeous winter day!’”
CB: “Nobody but you feels that way.”
Me: “….and the snow is gently falling….”
CB: “You’re describing most people’s least favorite moments.”
Me: “Untrue.”
CB: “You’re like someone who stubs their toe and hopes for pain.”
Me: “That is not even close to being the same thing.”
CB: “Yes it is. The stubbing your toe is winter. The pain is the 15 degrees and overcast.”
Me: “I see no parallels.”
CB: “I am living with an insane person.”
Me: “News alert. To no one.”

***

While watching a show the other night, two very attractive women were playing the defense attorney and the prosecuting attorney.

CB: “These are the attorneys?”
Me: “Yeah, why?”
CB: “It’s like a courtroom full of beauty.”
Me: “Yeah, they’re both lookers.”

Silence.

CB: “I mean, the judge has to be like ‘this is my lucky day!’”
Me: “This is a fake court, you know.”

Silence.

Me: “Which one do you think is prettier?”
CB, seriously contemplating and giving himself time to observe both in courtroom action: “Hmmmm….”
Me: “Or is it your stunning fiancé who currently has crouton crumbs all over her sweatshirt?”
CB: “ Yes, that’s my choice. My stunning fiancé.”
Me: “I figured.”

Silence.

Cut to: 15 minutes later when I got up to go take my sweatshirt off.

Walking out of the room, holding a crouton.

Me: “A crouton just fell out of my hoodie.”
CB, shaking his head. “That does not surprise me.”
Me: “How are you choosing to marry me?”
CB: “It’s like that time your neck was covered in dried chocolate and we couldn’t figure out how long it’d been there.”
Me: “I hoard old food on my body.”
CB: “That’s why I’m marrying you.”

Magic Johnson is possibly my BFF

So yesterday I awoke from a nap to find CB standing in the doorway being like “You met Magic Johnson?” And then of course I couldn’t tell if I was awake-dreaming that this conversation was happening or not, so I’m pretty sure I rolled over and ignored him.

CB: “My mom said there’s a picture of you on Facebook with Magic Johnson.”
Me, sitting up: “What? A picture of me with Magic Johnson?”
CB: “Yeah. I mean, maybe she’s confusing it with something else, but….”
Me: “How would your mom confuse a picture of me and Magic Johnson with a picture of someone else and Magic Johnson?”
CB: “I don’t know, but you seemed confused so I was trying to make you feel better.”

Which was true. I was very confused and also slightly concerned that my future mother-in-law was making up stories about me and celebrities. Which, I suppose, is a good way to deteriorate if you have to because at least then I have a cool pretend life.

However, after promptly going on Facebook to find that I was, in fact, in a picture with Magic Johnson that I totally forgot existed, I was like “I’m concerned that there’s something seriously wrong with my brain.”

Insert: not-funny comment from CB here.

I can't even talk about my haircut, you
guys. That's for another place
and time. Also, did I think I was
interviewing him? I'm the only one with
a notebook in my hand. #coolest

Anyway, it got me to thinking: What else have I forgotten about that was potentially cool and/or life-changing that I’ve totally blanked on? I mean, it’s a fairly regular occurrence that I’ll be talking to someone who has apparently wronged me in the past, and one of my friends will pull me aside and say “Why are you talking to (insert name of horrible person here)?” and I’m like “Why, she’s great?” and then they remind me of those times that this person wasn’t great and I’d totally forgotten and so I just keep my friends around to hold the grudges I can’t remember. It just seems more efficient that way.

Or I’ll forget about something embarrassing that happened to me to the extent that it can be told as a story in front of me and it’s like I’m hearing it for the first time.

Example: there was this time several years ago when friends of mine were telling a story about a funny (and slightly embarrassing) event that happened at the gynecologist. I was laughing along with them and feeling totally sorry for that poor gal, when they were finally like “Um, you know that story was about you, right?”

No, no I did not.

HOW did I forget about this mild-to-moderately humiliating life event? I mean, to be fair, they kind of happen a lot and so I can’t be expected to track all of them. But also possibly maybe I have early onset dementia that began in my 20s?

CB tried to sweetly assure me that I wasn’t alone last night as we were falling asleep.

CB: “I forget things from my childhood, too.”
Me: “What?”
CB: “I forget things from my childhood, too.”
Me: “What are you talking about?”
CB: “I feel like I didn’t really give you a good response when you were concerned about your memory earlier so I wanted you to know that I sometimes forget things too.”
Me: “Like meeting Magic Johnson?”
CB: “Well….no….”
Me: “I mean, I met Magic Johnson and I forgot!”
CB: “It happens.”
Me: “You’re sweet for trying to make me feel better. But also, I’m sleepy. Shhhh.”

I’m a gem, you guys.

So you tell me – do you think I should be a case study for neurology residents or does this happen to you, too? Also, reference this blog in your response in case I forget that I wrote this later today.

Happy Monday!

Friday Wrapup!

It a shocking twist of events, it’s snowing again. So, you know, it must be January (spoiler alert: I actually love this weather and hate-stare at CB people who complain about it. Unlike the hate-stares I get when I complain about summer throughout winter and into the summer months. I’m a gem.)

Anyway, let’s get to it!

***

One thousand times no. Just….no. Also, I hope CB’s not reading today because I want him to be surprised on our wedding day as I stun our family and friends with my midriff as any respectable 36 year old woman should.

Click here 

***

This week’s book is right up my alley (even though I haven’t read it yet) and exactly why I love the book blog! I’m a sucker for a good spy and think that CB and I will be sharing this one back and forth in the coming months.

Click here to read all about “Agent Zigzag” and browse around for other recommendations!

***

I want to create a very long gif of this baby polar bear and never stop watching it. Also, if anyone knows how to do that, I accept gifts in the form of polar bear gifs. 

***

And now, the Video of the Week! This has been on pretty heavy rotation in the last week or two, though it's jarring when Kanye's "Black Skinhead" comes on right after it (best treadmill song ever) and I'm like "I'm all of a sudden in the mood to wear Chanel jogging pants." 

But whatever, my tastes are diversified and sometimes hate-y.

But this is love-y! Happy Friday! 

Am I Repeating Myself? Whatever, I love love.

So this was a post from last year on this very day, but there's good reason. I love celebrating love, especially when it's people I can totally vouch for. Enjoy!

Forty-one two years ago today, two crazy kids who barely knew each other decided to take the biggest leap of faith around and said “I do” in front of their friends and families. They’d known each other mere months, were living in two separate parts of the country, and were about to embark on an adventure together to the Middle East where the woman was giving up her career and the life she knew to go be with some guy sporting a bitchin’ moustache and a sense of humor.  

And while they didn’t know they’d be my mom and dad at the time, I’m pretty sure they looked into their future together with hope and excitement for what life had in store for them. Also, I’m pretty sure they envisioned their child wearing pants most of the time, but we don’t always get what we wish for.

I'll never get enough  of this hat.

My mom is a quiet, kind, intelligent, sensitive, practical gal who was living in 1970s New York City and making it her oyster. She was a young nurse and, if I’m putting together the pieces of her stories correctly, not a stranger to the local pubs in her upper east side neighborhood. Yeah yeah, mom, I get it, you were living the Sex and the City dream before we even knew what that was. Also, if you ever tell me you were a Samantha, I will have to be in therapy for the rest of my life, so let’s just keep the past in the past, shall we?

Or this moustache. 

Meanwhile, my dad is an out-going, funny, intelligent, kind, practical guy who was kicking it up at West Point, finishing up his senior year. I’m sure he was being all sorts of good and behaved and military-like, but also, I believe I’ve seen a picture of him that year on a tricycle with a beer in his hand. So, you know, I’m guessing there was some down time.

And these two crazy kids would never have met were it not for their two friends, who just happened to be dating each other and, I’m guessing, were tired of their respective third wheels tagging along every time they went to a midnight screening of “Love Story.” OR, they were like “Hey, you’re single, you’re single.  Let’s make a love match.” I mean, I’m basing that on my single days and the requirements for a pairing, so I’m using a little creative license with this part.

But one thing I don’t need to use my creativity for is knowing that, after that first weekend, my mom and dad didn’t spend too much more time apart from then on. They’d met their match. Boom. Let’s do this. 

My dad often tells the story of how he knew my mom was the one when she didn’t kill him (or vice versa) during their “Death Valley” drive to…Texas? Ok, I can’t remember where they were driving to because I’ve heard the story so much by this point that I sometimes miss details here and there. But the gist is that my dad was impressed that this spunky red head he’d fallen for could actually make it through a horrendous drive through the deserts and not really complain, kind of go with the flow, and basically just be a champ about the whole thing.  

Cut to: forty one two years later and sometimes my dad will tag along with my mom to the grocery store or something and she’s all like “Dave, seriously, go over there or something, you’re bugging me.”

Ahhh, marriage.

You see, if you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time, you’ve figured out that I live in a world surrounded by romantic comedies, filled with ridiculously outlandish scenarios that bring two people, who seem to be complete opposites, together in the final minutes. But if you’ve met my parents, you start to understand that it’s because, growing up, I basically saw their marriage as a living, breathing organism of this possibility.

But, you know, without the awesome soundtracks and the good lighting.

And I think it taught me more than any Tom Hanks film ever could.

They taught me that love means compromise. It means laughter. It means saying ‘I’m wrong’ sometimes, and actually meaning it. It means forgiveness. It means communication. It means raising kids and being united even when you totally know I would be responsible with Nintendo if you’d just give in already. It means sacrifice. It means accountability to each other. It means patience. It means sometimes going to bed angry and then making breakfast for that person the next morning anyway. It means going on walks. It means watching “Homeland” together and reading excerpts to each other from books you think they might like. It means taking alone time. It means trusting the other person with your stuff, inside and out. It means loving them even when they don’t love themselves. It means playing Scattergories and having all of the same answers because you two for real have been together forever. It means talking about the weather and listening to the same stories over and over sometimes. It means ebbing and flowing and keeping it going. It means liking each other. It means having each others’ backs. It means commitment. It means giving them some Advil and a cold compress when they’re sick and not smothering them with a pillow because they’re really super annoying when they’re sick. It means watching your kids leave the nest and then finally going on fun vacations without them. It means going to bed at night and looking at that person and saying “Yeah, I’ll still keep ya’.” It means having your pal there every day.

It means forty-one two years together and still going strong.

Happy Anniversary, mom and dad. Thank you for teaching me how it’s done. 

You Say You Want a Resolution....

So now that we’ve entered yet another new year, I think it’s only appropriate that I share with you my non-exercise-related resolutions. And basically the only reason I’m not sharing my exercise-related resolutions with you is because that’s boring and also I don’t want to be held accountable when I decide that “exercise” is best described as “eating the leftover Christmas chocolate in the refrigerator.”

Anyway.

Some of these will be harder than others, but I figure if I put it out into the blogesphere - which is well known for holding people accountable and also talking about whether Kim Kardashian waxes her baby’s eyebrows – I might have a fighting chance at keeping a few. So here we go.

Resolution #1: Possibly stop reading Oprah articles

Ok, so last night I decided that, instead of reading the book I borrowed from my parents that has me re-reading several pages in a row because I get distracted easily, I’d read the O Magazine that I bought and didn’t read on my plane ride to and from my trip home over the holiday. So I’m thumbing through the articles and happen upon a section that’s all about, like, improving yourself in the new year and stuff and started reading a blurb about how to describe your online self better.  

Or I think that’s what it was about. It was only about 150 words but I read just the middle to last part of it because it was basically talking about accurately describing yourself for your Twitter profile and not stressing about it and I was confused that this was a thing.

However, I then read the next part:

“Reveal your job, then toss in a personal throwaway about loving bacon or jazz. It shows you’re human.”

Wait, am I’m supposed to tell someone what I do for a living and then be like “I also like bacon! I’m a human not a robot!”? And then I got stressed that I’m doing human interacting wrong, even when online.

So I moved on to the next piece of advice. Obviously.

THIS one was about helping to feel less stressed, which of course we can all benefit from and so I jumped right on board! Especially since the last tidbit about describing my human qualities stressed me out.

“When you’re feeling frazzled, adopt an attitude of acceptance,” suggests meditation expert and psychotherapist Tara Brach: “Notice what’s going on inside you and mentally whisper ‘yes’ to the experience; ‘yes’ to the anxiety, ‘yes’ to the tension, ‘yes’ to the irritation. With each yes, you give space for the experience to unfold.”

So, ok, I have a few questions here. First of all, is it just me, or do others not want to give space to their anxiety and tension? Or wait, am I doing anxiety and tension wrong? See, this is why I can’t do yoga and also clearly don’t visit a psychotherapist on a regular basis. Also, I already have trouble keeping thoughts on the inside, according to CB, and I sometimes talk out loud my thoughts without realizing it. So what will happen if I am just sitting at my desk at work and am like ‘Yes’ every time a stressful email comes through? Is this a thing?

Ok, Oprah, you are rich and powerful and have infinitely better skin at 60 than I do at 36, so I’ll give it a go. Yes, yes, yes! But also I might stop reading your magazine.

Resolution #2:  Focus less on your forehead lines.

Well, this might change now that I’m supposed to just yes my stress and tension into and out of my life. And if I yes them into my life I will at least solve the problem of looking randomly surprised on the subway and at my desk when I do my exercise to stretch away the lines. Which obviously has been scientifically proven to work.

Very important to note that this is my
forehead at rest. I'm not actively 
scowling and/or mad at you.

I honestly didn’t notice until someone brought it up a few years ago that I could use some Botox on my forehead lines. And then I said no thank you because I would for sure be the one in million person to get Stroke Face from my Botox-gone-wrong vanity party for one.

So, I decided that I'd (a) embrace them and (b) stretch them. 

Do I have cross eyes? 

This is me when I’m looking surprised and stretching the lines so they don’t get too comfy. I’m not a well woman. And yes, this is a real thing I do. And yes, I took a picture just for you guys. 

Resolution #3: I will continue not saying “totes.”

You’re welcome.

Resolution #4: I will attempt to stop saying “Ooooh this is an easy one” or “Ooooh this is hard” before reading Trivial Pursuit questions while playing with my friends.

Because apparently this is super annoying?

Resolution #5: Will try not to roll my eyes as much and/or tune out CB when he talks about golf, golfers, or things related to either.

Actually, scratch that. I need to set attainable goals.

And finally….Resolution #6: Will try to be less ‘bad crazy.’

Have we talked about this before? I can’t remember, but just to recap, I have a theory that there’s good crazy and bad crazy. And as much as I try to tell CB that I’m obviously the good crazy, he reminds me that “crazy is crazy and maybe just try not to be either one?” But of course that’s a silly suggestion because, have we met?

Example of good crazy: Doing the surprised face in public and not realizing people might be seeing you. OR being cool, calm, and collected while describing to your significant other why leaving the cabinet doors open after taking a glass out is something that should cause everyone extreme amounts of anxiety and REALLY PLEASE JUST DON’T DO IT.

And then they do this to prove to you that they love you and
you are good crazy and won't freak out. 

Example of bad crazy: Talk-crying through an explanation of why you were totally fine that your significant other wanted to watch “American Horror Story” while you wanted to watch “When Harry Met Sally” and that you only were upset that you thought he wanted to watch “When Harry Met Sally”, too. Which obviously is a reason to start quiet-crying on the couch during a commercial.

IT HAPPENED MONTHS AGO, BUT I NEEDED AN EXAMPLE. (also I'm putting in our wedding vows that he can commit me if I do this again). 

So ok, I’ve shared with you, now you share with me! Did you guys make resolutions that you can share? 

Friday Wrapup

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaack! And holy cow a lot has happened - it's a new year, there's 7-10 inches of new snow on the ground this morning, and.....I'm sure a bunch of other stuff is new, too. I'm not sure, you guys, it's Friday and I'm still working on my first cup of coffee. Work with me.

***

I just want to thank you all for continuing to read this blog as it goes into it's second full year (crazy!). Without you, who would I tell my underpants woes to? Well, other than CB who, as of this year, will be legally required to listen by the rules of marriage and stuff.

But seriously. Thank you! Now let's get to it.

***

You know those times in your life when everything falls completely into place and you just have a moment of "everything is as it should be"?

That moment happened earlier this week for me when I was sitting on the couch of one of my best friends. It was New Years' Eve morning, the rest of her family was at the park and we were sitting and catching up while she was feeding her brand new, four day old baby.

Me: "Wait, I'm so sorry to interrupt but I can't believe we haven't talked about Tori Spelling yet!"
Beth: "What? What about Tori Spelling?"
Me: "Did you hear about her and Dean?"
Beth: "No, I was giving birth! What happened?"
Me: "He cheated on her."
Beth: "Shut UP. Pull up the story immediately. I can't believe you've been here an hour and you're just telling me this."
Me: "See? This is why we've been friends for decades. We just get each other."

Also, we often apologize to our significant others that they ended up with us.

Moving on.

***

So I read a few books while I was home in the mitten and it was glorious. However, I haven't gotten around to blogging about them, but will get on the ball and back to normal next week. So stay tuned! I also believe I berated the rest of my family while I was home - as you do during the holidays - and so they should be updating as well and then it'll be a book bonanza! Whatever, we're nerds but we own it.

***

And now, the first Video of the Week of 2014!

This text exchange happened between CB and me last week:

Me: When I listen to Lionel Richie on Pandora, it makes me sentimental and weepy. But I just can't quit him.
CB: Don't be weepy....listen to 'Dancing on the Ceiling.'
Me: It's so nice to be understood. 

Need I say more? (except can we talk about that one blonde guy's hair? And, like, everything else that is happening in this video?)

Happy Friday, happy new year, I'll see you all next week!