Monday, December 20, 2010


I don't post as often as I used to. But let's not get greedy, people. 'Tis the season and all.

Speaking of, can we talk about that whole "Tis the Season" nonsense? I see that phrase everywhere these days "Tis the save big at (insert store name here)", "Tis the Season...for a McCafe!"

No. No it isn't. Stop using that phrase!

Meanwhile, have I mentioned that we've been called to serve in the Nursery? Yes, that's right. Undeniable proof that somebody up there hates us. And the thing is, I really do want to believe that some day (some far, far day) I will want children of my own. Spending time with other people's little bundles of joy makes me want children sooooo much less (if that's possible). Because I can only desire to want children in the abstract. When faced with the reality of what children are, I am forced to admit that I want no part of it. It's like my goal to one day climb Mt. Kilimanjaro. Sure, it sounds exotic and fun, but do I really want to train for weeks beforehand just so that I can sweat and choke and heave myself up some dumb rock? No, not really. But you know what? I'd enjoy that scenario a whole lot more than I would ever enjoy giving birth to a parasite that will spend the next 18 years sucking the life out of me.

Which brings us to the fact that my sister is pregnant with twins. It's one thing to have another human being living inside of you, but two? Two whole other people chillax'in in your abdomen? Holy. Rusted. Metal. Batman.

So, to sum up: Congrats to my sister and a big fat I-am-so-incredibly-sorry-for-whatever-I-did-to-deserve-this to whoever decided I should spend 2 hours a week surrounded by small children.


Monday, December 6, 2010

In which I convince you that I truly am in need of medication.

Okay, so it's still a little weird to me that I'm married. I blame movies. And vivid dreams.

It's like when you watch a movie or have a particularly clear dream and you wake up the next day thinking it was real (or at least some parts of it were real) and then you have that quick realization that no, you are not actually a CIA agent in disguise (and thank heavens for that, because I would totally suck at that job). Well, I keep doing that with the whole "husband" thing. Only it turns out it is real. So it's like this twisted cycle of "Hey, I think I'm married...oh no, that was just a dream, silly me...uhhh, was it a dream? I think I did get married...woah, vivid dream again...why is there a man in my bed?!?!"

Honestly, it's tripping me out. I've been looping this cycle for over two months now. When does it end????

In other news, I had this wicked rad dream the other night wherein I had re-discovered my ability to fly and my husband was very supportive of my new skill set. Only I knew it was a dream because of the whole "husband" part. I mean, me married? That'd be soooo weird.