Dippy: "Why aren't we friends anymore?"
My daughter: "Well, there are multiple contributing factors to that."
Dippy: "You know I don't know what those words mean!"
Case closed.
[You remember “Dippy,” right? If not, you can refresh your memory HERE.]
I walk on my treadmill everyday. Or I try to walk on my treadmill everyday. Admittedly, some days the motivation just isn’t there. Poof!—it’s just gone. Like a bad dog that dug its way out under the freaking backyard fence.
Gah!
On those days I go to the local park and walk around it looking for my lost motivation. (“Here Motivation, Motivation!”….) But even then, sometimes it just isn’t gelling. And that makes the walk seem to take foreverrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
*sigh*
And then there are days where I love walking on my treadmill; where the walk is easy, fun, and seems to take no time at all; where I’m so into it there is absolutely nowhere else I’d rather be; and where I honestly do not want to stop. Total polar opposite. Odd. And I think today I’ve finally figured out why….
My I-pod.
I put my I-pod on shuffle every time I walk, and that way (*attempting a Forrest Gump accent*) life is like a box of chocolates; you never know what you’re gonna get (*end Forrest Gump accent*).
I have almost 1000 songs on my I-pod and I like not knowing which song I’m going to hear next. If I know what’s coming next I tend to get bored. And nothing assassinates a workout faster than boredom. Yet, sometimes, I don’t know, the songs don’t seem to shuffle right; they don’t mix well with each other; they just feel wrong and I get annoyed with them and start skipping them all.
Skip-skip-skip-skip….
I’ve had days where I skip like 50 songs in a row, and once I get in that mode, all 1000 songs are doomed—NONE of them will feel right; I’ll HATE them all! And in bitter disgust, my walk comes to a grinding halt.
So pitiful.
But the exact opposite thing happened today. All the songs were PERFECT. Each one was better than the next. And some of these songs weren’t even my favorites, yet they all seemed to be holding hands in a magic musical séance together to create this phenomenal energy in the room and, thus, it was a FABULOUS workout!
I walked over four miles and every single freaking step of it was blissful! :-)
*le sigh*
And now I’m going to confess my musical shame share the list of the 21 songs that made up my Blissful Treadmill Walk Soundtrack. Enjoy:
1. Holiday – Allison Iraheta
2. Hey Baby – No Doubt
3. Get Your Hands Off My Woman – The Darkness
4. Love or Torture – Blake Lewis
5. Come Back To Me – David Cook
6. Sit On My Face – Monty Python
7. Hot N Cold – Katy Perry
8. Let’s Just Fall In Love Again – Jason Castro
9. One and One Make Five – Pet Shop Boys
10. Ur So Gay – Katy Perry
11. The Sweater – Meryn Cadell
12. Why Can’t I Be You? – The Cure
13. Oi To The World – No Doubt
14. Golden Blunders – The Posies
15. Whataya Want From Me? – Adam Lambert
16. Dancing Queen – ABBA
17. Friday I’ll Be Over You – Allison Iraheta
18. Headstrong – Ashley Tisdale**
19. Bet She's Not Your Girlfriend – Pet Shop Boys
20. Teenage Dream – Katy Perry
21. Hollaback Girl – Gwen Stefani
**Oh, shut up!
My daughter has a friend. Let’s call her “Dippy,” because she is.
Dippy got mad at Gwen the other day because Gwen invited another girl over to our house this weekend. Dippy decided to get revenge. Her revenge? She claimed she fell, hit her head, got amnesia, and didn’t remember who Gwen was anymore.
Uhh…. okaaaayyyyyyyy.
(You see why I call her Dippy, right? Sharpest knife in the drawer, she is NOT.)
So, Gwen got HER revenge by “reminding” Dippy in front of everyone at school that before she got “amnesia” she lost a bet to Gwen and owes Gwen $1000!
And suddenly—*POOF*—just like magic, Dippy’s “amnesia” was cured.
GOD, I ADORE TEENAGE GIRLS!!!!
Okay, so last I showed my bloggy face around here, I promised you a stupendous slew of stories, didn’t I? Ohhhhhhh, I’ve got stories for you, alright. Mm-hmm. In fact, dare I say it?—EEK!—I just might have too many stories. I can’t even really decide where to begin, so I keep putting it off and neglecting the blog, and then the problem just grows bigger and hairier and soooooooooooo much worse.
Kinda like moldy cheese in the back of the fridge.
Or Kirsty Alley.
Whatever.
The point? Much has gone on in my wee wittle world the last month or two…. hence the fact that I only blogged a pitiful, inexcusable three pointless posts in December.
Three!
Pfffft! Sad, wasn’t it? I know.
*cough slacking-good-for-nothing-clown cough*
It may take me a little while to blog it all, so bear with me. However, God forbid, if I’m still slogging my way through it and still blogging about Christmas in June, someone slap me. Okay? Okay.
Anyway, on with the stories….
Snow.
I used to dread snow when I lived in Seattle. Stupid sucktastic snow. Every time it snowed there—*POOF*—the whole city turned Stone Age. No cars, thanks to the rollercoasterish hilly streets being lacquered in an inch thick layer of ice, forcing everyone to ditch their cars and attempt to hoof it like we were in the dang Ice Capades! No electricity, thanks to the snow-encased trees all choosing to fall on the power lines, leaving everyone shivering by candlelight in their chilly homes for days on end! Basically, life would come to an abrupt halt and we’d all turn feral. And, my friends, THAT is NEVER pretty.
Snow was a terrifying monster which I feared all winter long.
But here in Chicago snow is a tame and docile beast. More of a pet, really. The kind that follows at your heals when you go out for a walk, licks your face, and occasionally leaves puddles on your floor. Not the least bit threatening.
Snow doesn’t bring this city to a grinding halt; snow doesn’t seem to impact anything here much whatsoever. It’s just kind of there. And for the first time in my entire adult life, snow doesn’t stress me out.
In fact, I think I like it. Whodathunkit?
Our first big snow day here was at the beginning of December. We awoke one Saturday morning to a scrumptious-looking city which seemed to have been generously frosted with Marshmallow Crème….
And Gwen was THRILLED!!!!….
There was a Bake Sale/Christmas Fair at Gwen’s school that day, but, unlike it would have in Seattle, the newly fallen Chicago snow did NOT take a steaming poo on our plans to go. Nope. We bundled ourselves up and walked a block and a half to school, hucking snowballs at each other the entire way. (Heh heh heh.) I may have also attempted an artsy fartsy snowy picture or two as we went….
The Bake Sale/Christmas Fair was fun. We sampled some delicious treats (my favorite were the “Oreo Balls”) and looked at lots of crafts and handmade trinkets. But my favorite table was “Santa’s Gift Tree” where I won myself this marvelous monster finger puppet, which I thoroughly enjoyed taunting Gwen and her friends with! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!….
After Gwen’s friends bailed (was it something I or my finger puppet said?!?!), Gwen, Scope and I took a whack at the Cake Walk where Gwen won the first prize: this uber-yummy chocolate M&M cake….
Then Gwen, Scope, and I ventured back home to nosh on cake and rush up to the roof of our condo to see our winterized neighborhood from above….
Up on the roof we made a snowman, which Scope (always the gentleman) so gallantly gave his hat and scarf (awwww)….
….and we had another big ol' snowball fight. Duh.
Then to top of the perfect Snow Day, we piled into the car and drove a few streets over to take pictures of ourselves outside the Family Matters house (think Steve Urkel) (or, eww, don’t)….
(What?!)
(Doesn’t everybody take mini road trips to cheesy sitcom houses on Snow Days?!?!)
(No?!)
(Oh.)
The moral of the story? People might tell you that Winter in Chicago is a big. bad, ugly thing, but I’m here to tell you that those people are ignorant. So there. :-P
Hey there. Yep, I’m still alive.... although you’re totally forgiven if you thought otherwise due to my sudden callous abandonment of Blogaritaville. I suck. Clearly.
And I’m also in Seattle.
I’m staying at my mom’s house for the holidays. I’ve been here for five lonnnnnngggggggggg days without Scope (who had to stay in Chicago a wee bit longer due to work) and without my daughter (who had to go stay with her dad for Christmas until the 26th).
*sniffle*
But things are looking up. Scope is aboard a plane right this very second, zooming his way across the sky towards me. He’s over South Dakota right about now. I know because I’m stalking him tracking his flight. See?….
That’s my hubba hubba hubby’s plane. Pretty snazzy, huh? I know! His plane will be landing in about two hours and I’ll be picking him up in the airport.
Squeeeeeeeeeeee!!
Oh—and it just so happens to be Scope’s birthday today too.... so, of course, I’ll be wearing this at the airport….
God, it’s FUN being married to a gloriously geeky, tastily techy, mega-marvelous man!!!!
:-)
I have many stories to tell you, Blogaritaville, but I’m not sure how much blogging time I will have over the next week or so. So, just in case I don’t make it back here in a timely manner, MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
So, we spent Thanksgiving weekend at Scope’s parents’ house where there’s this—this—hey, wait a minute…. Have I ever bothered to describe Scope’s parents’ house to you before? Hmm?….
No?
Oh. Huh. Well, lemme try to paint a mental picture of it for you: it’s simultaneously an antique hunter’s heaven, a garage sale guru’s jungle gym, an eBay excavator’s bouncy house, and a thrift store surfer’s wicked wild wave. How’s that for summing it up? ;-)
The house is bursting full (FULL) of old collections. We’re talking dolls, buttons, skeleton keys, pins, photographs, figurines, books, plates, linens, artwork, and all kinds of other antique-ish goodies and treasures. You could spend a week exploring in there and still not see it all, I swear! It’s really quite something.
The doll collection sits posed around a chair on the recreation room floor near the couch where my daughter sleeps when we are staying there. Gwen has outgrown dolls, of course, but she doesn’t mind sharing the room with them.
Except for this one: 
I’m told his name is “Little Brother.” He looks perfectly innocent and harmless, right? Absolutely. Yet for some truly mysterious, inexplicable reason he frightens the living heck out of Gwen. She actually has panic attacks when she sees him. And there’s no use throwing a blanket over him or turning his back to the room or anything like that, no, no, no, because just knowing he is there is enough to freak Gwen out.
We’re talking about a 14 year old girl here. A 14 year old girl whose room at home is full of skeleton figurines and black bats hanging from the damn ceiling! So, I’m having a little trouble seeing what is so terrifying about a baby doll.
Aren’t you?
I mean…. it’s not like he watches you, unblinking, in the shadows with a sinister stare…. 
It’s not like his depraved eyes follow you across the room as he plots his evil plans…. 
It’s not like he lingers closer…. and closer, licking his vile lips while you change your clothes…. 
It’s not like he has a terrifying temper and an axe to grind…. 
It’s not like he climbs soundlessly into your bed and leans over you, maliciously smirking while you sleep and startles you awake when you feel his foul breath on your face…. 
It’s not like his unholy hand lunges out and grabs you as you scream and struggle to get away…. 
It’s not like he has a perverse taste for human flesh and the last thing you’ll ever see is Satan reflected in his eyes…. 
Nope. Nothing like that. He’s just a baby doll. Sweet dreams, Blogaritaville.
:-P
Ummm…. how the heck did the censors miss THIS????….
Nice one!
*snicker*
Soo, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (part 1) is FINALLY out in theaters today!
*geeky, spazzy, happy dance*
And I’m SOOOOOOOOO excited about it, I hardly slept a wink last night! ‘Cuz if there’s one thing I really rock at, it’s getting ridiculously overexcited about all things Potterific!
*squeal*
(I mean, please, you’re talking to a girl who made a Voldemort piñata out of paper mache all so she could enjoy watching Voldemort getting his butt beaten.)
(Three diferent times.)
(Yep.)
Ahhhhhh, I love me some Harry Potter!!!!
*WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!*
I’ve already reread book 7 (for the fourth time) up to the point where the movie will be split, just so it’s all fresh in my head. And my Hogwarts schoolgirl costume (hubba hubba) has been unearthed and is hanging in the closet waiting to be worn.
(Yes, out in public.)
(Well, maybe.)
(If I can still squeeze myself into it.)
(Shut up.)
And Scope, Gwen and I already have our tickets to catch the movie tonight once Gwen is back from school and Scope is back from work. But, still, I’m torn…. It’s almost like there is a wee evil horcrux-making devil whispering in one ear…. while a tiny lightning bolt-scarred angel is whispering in the other….
Wee Evil Horcrux-Making Devil: “Psssst! Hey, you! Ginger!”
Me: “Whaaa—? You talkin’ to me?”
Wee Evil Horcrux-Making Devil: “Duh. D’you see Carrot Top here, honey?!”
Me: “Uhh. No. No, thank God!! Christ, that would suck big hairy hyena ba—”
Wee Evil Horcrux-Making Devil: “Shut up! I’ve got an idea. Listen up. Scope’s at work today, right?”
Me: “….Right.”
Wee Evil Horcrux-Making Devil: “And your kid is at school, right?”
Me: “….Yeah…. And?”
Wee Evil Horcrux-Making Devil: “Well, then why not sneak your Muggle self on over to the theater and catch the movie now? Huh? You could see it twice! You know you want to. Who’s here to stop you?”
Me: “But the three of us are going to see it togeth—“
Wee Evil Horcrux-Making Devil: “Pfffffft! They’ll never know! That’s the beauty of it!”
Tiny Lightning Bolt-Scarred Angel: “NO! STOP! DON’T LISTEN TO HIM!”
Me: “*gasp* Are you my Harry-Potter-shoulder-angel-voice-of-reason-conscience-thingie?!”
Tiny Lightning Bolt-Scarred Angel: “Yes, genius. Nice schoolgirl outfit. I can see right down your shir—well, never mind. Listen, ignore the Dork Lord over there, ‘kay? He’s a putz. Just walk away. Seeing the movie behind your family’s back would be awesome, yeah, but it would also be selfish and wrong. Repeat after me: It would be SELFISH and WRONG.”
Me: “It would be—wait, you can see down my what?!”
Tiny Lightning Bolt-Scarred Angel: “*whistling innocently*”
Wee Evil Horcrux-Making Devil: “C’mon, don't listen to that guy! He's trying to lead you down the path of righteousness. I'm gonna lead you down the path that ROCKS!!”
Tiny Lightning Bolt-Scarred Angel: “Oh, come off it!”
Wee Evil Horcrux-Making Devil: “YOU come off it!”
Tiny Lightning Bolt-Scarred Angel: “You!”
Wee Evil Horcrux-Making Devil: “You!”
Tiny Lightning Bolt-Scarred Angel: You!”
Wee Evil Horcrux-Making Devil: “You infinity!”
Tiny Lightning Bolt-Scarred Angel: “Grrr.”
Gah!
You see what I mean, right? These opinionated, runty, Emperor’s New Groove-plagiarizing, little dudes have been arguing in my ears for days. And I’m so confused! Should I stay? Should I go? Or should I whack ‘em both with a flyswatter? WHAT?!?!
Oy.
