Kick Off Your Sunday Shoes

Kick off your Sunday shoes. For me that equals heels, thanks to my overly stylish mother always challenging me to at least look good enough to be in the same room as her. And gladly will I 'kick them off'. After doing so, I'll dance.

Last weekend, I had a bestie (that's what Amy Farah Fowler calls her friends) come visit me. I took this opportunity to see a chick flick with a GIRL instead of my oh-so-patient husband. I figured it would be nice to see a movie without the incredulous looks at the screen from my tortured spouse, so we went to see the remake of 'Footloose'. (Spoiler Alert) Aside for the death race of school buses intended to be somewhat of a coming-of-age challenge, the movie got my foot 'a tappin'. And since it's still sunny, surprisingly, down south, I've been quite content. Content enough that I've been enjoying some of my schoolwork, and definitely content enough to be groovin' all over our apartment. People, I can't stop dancing.

I'm not sure if anyone has had this problem before, but I'll describe it to you in a bit of detail. Currently, it is quiet and still in our place as Ryan and I both pretend to be filling our minds with knowledge thrown at us by overdeveloped syllabuses and underrated professors, and yet, my foot will not stop keeping a beat. At this rate, I'll have cankles by Christmas. Also, I've had the same song stuck in my head for approximately 42 hours and I'm still not tired of it, nor do I quit dancing to it. And the final straw: I feel the NEED to learn a new line dance. Please, any suggestions to make it stop or at least limit it would be appreciated. I'm fairly sure our neighbours downstairs are done with the foot tapping and would show no sympathy for my swollen ankles.

Pick My Pumpkin!

Alright, I'm doing it again. You get to pick my pumpkin again this year. I've narrowed it down to 3; however, I'm definitely open for suggestions. So cast your vote on the bottom of this post or on the facebook link!

The Oilers logo. I've got a cool idea on how to do this one, not to sway your vote or anything.





                                                         Tink! She never gets old.







Or do I tackle a NEW Disney character: Rapunzel!
 

                            You choose!

The Best Intentions

So I've been noticing lately how people have 'the best intentions', but it doesn't always work out. So let these few examples of 'The Best Intentions' be a lesson to you.

1. The Pumpkin Spice Latte.

Their best intention: For customers to feel all warm and fuzzy inside while they watch the seasons change and all the leaves disappear from the trees as a blizzard creeps in from the North to freeze them from the inside out.

The outcome: People are drinking milky gourds.

2. Charlize Theron's Red Carpet Look.

Her best intention: Draw attention away from her midsection.

The outcome: Well... I guess you could say she accomplished that with a little bit of coconut shell inspiration mixed in.




















3. Wii Fit

Their best intention: Get couch potatoes to exercise right beside their favourite couches using a television and a remote control. Seems practical.

The outcome: I now have a 'perfect' golf swing while sitting sideways with my eyes closed eating popcorn.

Case closed.

I Love Me Some Hot Cocoa

For one of my History assignments this semester, we were asked to look at The Globe and Mail newspaper dated 80 prior to the week of our birthdays. This would make my specific week during March 1911 (do the math, people, I'm 20). Anyways, it got me thinking that news of TV these days is too detailed, graphic, and literally, ALL bad.

I came across the news section of March 14, 1911, where the deliverance of bad news was done in a rather matter-of-fact way, leaving the rest of the newspaper open for good news, fashion advice, advertisements about homemade cocoa, and of course, 'recipes your husband would love'. This is what it said:

Day's Accidents in Toronto

Burned to Death. Mrs. Elizabeth McArthur.
Struck by Street Cars. Mrs. E.J. Boyd and Mrs. Adair. Mr. Martin Kennedy.
Fell Down Elevator Shaft. Mr. Joseph Tait.
Fell in Lake. Mr. John Gardner.
Injured by Explosion. Mr. George H. Hargrave.
Swallowed Poison. An unknown man.


My question is: Why don't we do this now? I need recipes, people!

Now I Smell Like 'Sunlight'

We're back in Abby. I still hate the weather. Today, it's 31 degrees, which if you know me, is just as bad as rain. I'm so sticky. Yuck.

Anyway, here are a few highlights of our first weekend back to school.

Our 'friend' comes over (let's call him Ned). Let me start over. NED comes over since we haven't seen him in four months. We get to chattin', watching Track and Field (since that's the only good channel we have until Shaw calls back...and we all become scared enough to pee our pants a little when we catch sight of the shot-put women *shutter*), and then we decide to play Wii. Neh. We decide to play Wii ARCHERY. So I gear up to get roasted. Obviously, I will lose because I'm playing against two nerds. Ryan and Ned. However, I was pleasantly surprised to have SMOKED Ned in Wii Archery. You may applaud.

Then we go check out another friend's place. Let's call her Sarah. This year she lives off campus in a sweet place with sweet rent AND has a sweet car. Sarah is SWEET.

THEN another friend, let's call her Nancy, shows up, hugs us, and then proceeds to tell us how she ran out of shaving cream this morning and had to use dish soap. She said to us: "Now I smell like 'Sunlight'."


We love all three of them.

5 Things Learned in 364 Days of Marriage

Since it's our 1st anniversary tomorrow, I thought it would be appropriate to do a recap of our first year as a married couple. For all you 'guys': Try and view this a sports highlight reel. For all you 'ladies': View this as a slow motion romantic reunion of a middle aged couple on a beach in a movie.

I thought I would maybe pair these 'recaps' with a little tidbit I've learned along with these experiences. (Feel free to click on the link to read the blog post to go with each tidbit)

1. Husbands absolutely HATE putting up Christmas decorations prior to December 1st.

2. Husbands can actually tune out things their wives say that would, in fact, be categorized as 'ridiculous'.

3. Husbands have more tolerance for government workers.

4. Husbands are not the only ones who forget anniversaries.

5. Husbands can, indeed, like IKEA given that they're taken at the appropriate time of day.


Cheers to continuous learning for the next 50 years of my life!

Dear Randy

I'm dedicating this post to one of my few, hmm...avid? readers. Randy.

However, I ran into a bit of a dilemma: what should I write about. So I took a moment (as in a literal moment) and decided it should fall under the realm of one of these categories. The educational system. Hunting. Or pig roasts. Sadly, pig roasts are obviously out because of my last post. So I'll just cover the other two to compensate.

Hunting

I have little experience with this subject. Although, I have shot several guns: 12 gauge, .410, .22, and a pellet gun (if that even counts). I accept hunting as a means to fill my freezer; however, I don't like imagining shooting a victim that is completely oblivious to their unfortunate fate. (Blech, say that sentence ten times fast) So all I will say about this topic is regarding the Olympic event involving a very elegant sport (cross-country skiing) and a very NOT elegant sport. In the words of Jerry Seinfeld: "Cross-country skiing and shooting. Why not make it the breaststroke and strangle a guy?"

The Educational System

I present to you a timeline of the way a student sees their principal throughout their years of public schooling.

Kindergarten: The President.

Grade 3: The guy who can't sing the national anthem in tune every Monday.

Grade 6: The guy who sent me home to watch TV for three days because I kicked a soccer ball out the window.

Grade 9: The guy who sent me home to watch TV for three days because he caught me tee-peeing his car.

Grade 12: The guy who's signing the papers to get me the heck outta here.


Randy, you know I was never this student. Just thought I would remind you, as you may be my future employer.