Background template

Monday, March 30, 2009

Eating my words

Ok some of you may remember this post where I declared my love for return address labels. I believe some of you even agreed and expressed that you had the same affinity for these “gifts” which so often come in the mail after you have donated to a charity or organization.

Well I’m not sure if one of you thought it would be funny to pull a joke on me and send my contact information to every. single. charity. in. the. entire. world, but somehow they all have our address and will NOT stop sending us address labels. I am not kidding, people, we have probably received a new batch of return address labels every other week or so for the past couple of months. And for some reason, the majority of them have a patriotic theme? So in case we need to do a mass mail-out for Memorial Day or the 4th of July, we should be all set.

I really have no idea how all of these people got our information, but we are hearing from groups supporting everything from cancer research to the Olympics. And hello, Olympics? I’m sorry, but I have a feeling you are coming up with funding just fine on your own, thank you, and I see no need to send you money. Nonetheless, I will still keep the free address labels. Even if they are the 5th set that we have received that happens to be covered in American flags.

Anyway, don’t get me wrong, I still love the labels. But considering Brian and I aren’t planning on still living in this house in oh, say, 800 years, I don’t think we are going to be needing this many. Thanks anyway, National Center for (Fill-in-the-blank) Research, but I think we’ll pass on any future mail-outs.

Does that count as an official opt-out request?

Friday, March 27, 2009

Is there no justice?!

Ok so if you don’t watch this season of American Idol, then you will not be interested in this post. Unless you are interested in reading about someone getting overly worked up about a reality tv show? But feel free to read on anyway! If you watched the show on Wednesday, I think you’ll all agree that Scott (the blind one), Megan Joy (the tatted up girl that shimmies around the microphone), and Michael (the offshore oil rig worker) did not exactly do a stellar job. And in my personal opinion, Megan’s performance was the worst, with Scott’s in a close second behind her. Michael’s performance, while not terribly original, was at least enjoyable to listen to.

And yet we now find ourselves going into the final 9 (I think?) without Michael. I certainly don’t think he had a chance of winning the competition, but getting kicked out before Scott? Really? And I know that Megan has a lot of fans, but I have to tell you that listening/watching her perform almost makes me wish that I had been born with no eyes or ears. Hearing/watching her is like nails on a chalkboard for me. Is that harsh?

So anyway, while we were watching the show on Wednesday night, Brian and I were speculating who would get the boot the following evening. We both agreed that Scott has the weakest voice in the group and has consistently had sub-par reviews. But then Brian said something that pretty much sums up last night’s vote: “Never underestimate people’s pity for handicapped people or their love for pretty people.” And, my friends, that is exactly what we discovered last night.

Yes, I think it is great that Scott has made it this far, and I will agree that he is a somewhat talented singer. But I will go ahead and declare that I think the main reason he has made it this far is because people are taking pity on him. Which, in my opinion, is ridiculous. And I also think that Megan’s looks have a lot more to do with her advancement in the competition than her voice. Which, let’s be honest, is pretty typically how the world operates, but still, I was hoping they would focus more on her extremely irritating manner of dancing around the microphone and have the sense to get rid of her.

Ok I’m over it, I promise. But if Scott makes it past next week, then I just might have to give Ryan Seacrest a call and let him know what’s up.

Happy Friday, everyone!

Thursday, March 26, 2009

"Type A" might be an understatement

I have always had a pretty good hunch that I was neurotic. My family was never shy about pointing out how particular I am, or pointing out how much it drove them all crazy. In fact, there are 2 videos from my childhood that provided proof for me in later years in case I ever doubted what they told me to be true:

1. When we were around the age of 4 (“we” referring to my twin sis and I), my dad was video- taping us jumping on the bed. Pretty normal, right? What is not normal, however, is that I interrupted the activity to ask everyone to please get off the bed and straighten up the pillows before continuing. That should have been their first clue.

2. A few years later, when we were probably 10, we were making a home video with our brother… not even really sure what it was about, probably one of our fake documentaries about the lives of Siamese twins where Allison and I would both squeeze into my dad's clothes and pretend to be attached to each other. We had friends, I promise. Regardless, a major fight broke out when I decided that we were making too much of a mess in my room and taping needed to stop until the room was back in proper order. And that, my friends, is probably why my brother and I did not get along for the duration of our childhood :o)

So yes, it’s safe to say that I wasn’t clueless about this personality trait growing up. However, I will say that I was never made more painfully aware of it until I got married. Something about living with someone day in and day out apparently brings these types of qualities to light. Who knew? And while you might wonder how I was able to live with Allison day in and day out without having issues about my OCD behavior, you should remember that she is equally (if not more) neurotic.

None of my obsessive tendencies really seemed that weird to me until Brian started to challenge them. I know what you’re thinking: “He challenged you and came out alive?” Yes, hard to believe, but with only a little (lot) bit of back-sassing from me, he has managed to challenge me on multiple occasions.

For example, Brian doesn’t understand why the 2 remote controls (a) need to sit in the same spot on the coffee table at all times or (b) why they need to be parallel to one another and to the edge of the table. Seems perfectly reasonable to me?

He also still does not understand why the rugs have to be a certain distance from the edge of the room (or door), and why the frayed edges always need to be neatly groomed. I think it’s fairly obvious that the world will likely stop spinning on its axis if they aren’t, but apparently he doesn’t see it that way.

And I’m sure I’m not alone in this one… ok I’m hoping I’m not alone in this one… but Brian also finds it amusing (a nice word for “aggravating?") that I like to rotate out the dishes, glasses, and utensils (particularly our knife set) so that we don’t always end up using the exact same 4 or 5 without ever using the others. What's wrong with keeping things balanced?!

I am thankful, however, that although he likely questions my sanity on a daily basis, he still complies as much as possible. He probably wouldn’t admit this to his friends, but as I type this, his shirts are hanging in our closet grouped by color and sleeve length. And while I will say that it was upon my insistence at first, he has managed to keep it up on his own accord for the last 1.5 years. Although that might be more out of fear than his own desire for an orderly wardrobe, but hey, I’ll take what I can get.

So what are some of your OCD habits? And how do your significant others feel about them?

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

The Real World: Richmond

If you have been desperately longing for more townie news, then believe me, today you are in for a treat. And no, I have not yet sampled the Thug Passion snow cone, so unfortunately that won’t be discussed in today’s post.

It dawned on me yesterday that in my quest for true townie-hood, I have unintentionally neglected to discuss one of the most important townie topics. While I have spent many a post discussing the merits of being a townie and outlining for you the activities in which Brian and I participate in order to achieve our maximum townie potential, I have failed to tell you about some of the legitimate townies in our area.

And when I say legitimate townies, I’m referring to those locals in the area that most people know about from personal experience, kind of like Leslie, the infamous cross-dresser, in Austin. While I wouldn’t exactly think of most of these characters as role models, I will say that I admire the townie status that they have achieved. And for that reason, today I will give you a glimpse into the lives (as we see them) of some of my favorite locals.

“Walking Lady”—as with many townies, we don’t actually know her real name. And as you also might have noticed, creativity is not exactly my strong suit, because “Walking Lady” was the best nickname I could come up with. I’m not sure that this woman is known around town, but certainly if you live in our neighborhood, you have seen her. She walks everywhere (we’re thinking she doesn’t have a car), but she is no leisurely walker. WL is ALWAYS on a mission—eyes looking intently ahead, with a forward lean as if she is trying to propel herself in that direction, and at an admirably brisk pace. I really don’t know where she goes, because rarely is she actually carrying anything with her on her return trip. Maybe one of these days I will follow her… in my car, of course, because I’m not sure I can keep up with her.

George Washington—nope, I’m not making that up. That is actually the name he goes by. This man wanders the streets of Richmond with pieces of paper taped (stapled? pinned? who knows?) all over him. I think he also subscribes to many a conspiracy theory about the government and will gladly share his political opinions with you if you ask. Or if you happen to pull up next to him at a light while he’s on a street corner.

“Shirtless Man”—again, my creativity is astounding. As you can guess, this man wanders the streets of Rich-Rose with no shirt on. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s trying to get some extra sun, or if he just wants to show off his bod (although that’s not likely being that he is likely in his 50s). All I know is that his skin is very dark and leathery, and probably feels more like a football than skin.

“The Smoker”—this one confuses me the most out of the bunch. He must live somewhere in our neighborhood, because I have crossed paths with him on several occasions while I’ve been out for a walk or run. The Smoker is always wearing workout clothes (the same outfit, tall white socks included), so I can only assume he is walking for fitness purposes, unlike Walking Lady. However, he is always cruising at a very slow pace, almost as if he doesn’t want to be walking and someone is making him do it. And it’s not because he’s old—he looks to be in his 30s or low 40s at the oldest. To top it off, he is usually smoking a cigarette while he walks. Because nothing helps you to achieve your maximum fitness level quite like taking walks on a snail-like pace while smoking. And I also want to add that he never says “hi” back to me, although I’m fairly certain he can hear me. So I have quit trying.

Gilbert—for once, this is actually his name. Brian is much more of an expert on this guy, as he is known for lingering around the church and asking for rides/money/work/etc. All I know is that I have been instructed not to talk to him, and that he has been instructed to stop loitering. And when I say that he has been instructed to stop loitering, I mean to say that the church calls the cops when he comes by. But don’t worry, that doesn’t stop him from riding by on his bike and asking me for money whenever I walk to the mailbox.

So there you have it, readers, a small glimpse into the lives of true Rich-Rose townies. I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking my town would make for an excellent reality tv show. One where a lot of dysfunctional people go walking around the neighborhood. Sounds like a hit to me!

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Well that was embarrassing.

Nothing makes you look good in front of your neighbors quite like getting pulled over by a policeman (lights and all) in your own driveway. Don’t you think?

Brian and I were returning home from doing some volunteer work with illiterate orphans… ok we were returning home from a trip to Dairy Queen, but that is really beside the point. Once we turned into our driveway and put the car in park, we noticed flashing red and blue lights in the rearview mirror and realized a police car was parked behind us in our driveway.

Not to worry, it wasn’t like the time that Brian managed to get pulled over on his way to work (one block from our house, I kid you not—he ran a stop sign, and by “a stop sign,” I mean the only stop sign between our house and the church). He just pulled us over because one of my brake lights was out. Nonetheless, we got to sit in the driveway for a good 5-10 minutes with his lights flashing while he wrote up a warning. Plenty of time for curious neighbors to stare and wonder what those young hooligans living on the corner were up to. Fun times indeed.

Oh, and for the record, the policeman was really nice! We really didn’t mind being pulled over—we appreciated being told about the brake light. And I never like it when people rant unnecessarily about how unfair police are, so I wanted to make sure to clarify. The end :o)

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Nutty results revealed

So apparently you all, for the most part, also have strong feelings about nuts. And pickles.

While I appreciate all the input about pickles, I am going to consider your opinions null and void on that topic, because, HELLO, did you see the picture of the pickle I posted yesterday? They are a disgrace to all things edible, and in my opinion, should be banished from the earth.

Several of you were neutral about the nuts, and by neutral, I mean totally unhelpful. My food convictions might be unusual, but at least they are firm. So I will give you wishy-washy readers your own category. Although technically, if you are ok with having nuts in dessert, then you are pro-nuts. Anyway, here are the results:

Anti-nuts in dessert: 8*
Pro-nuts in dessert: 0
Afraid of committing/ok with either: 4

*Lorne’s comment leads me to categorize him as anti-nuts, but feel free to read his comment and judge for yourself.

So there you have it, readers, ANTI-NUTS are the winners… and rightfully so!

As far as my thoughts on the matter (as if you hadn’t figured it out yet), well, I think Risa put it best:

“NO NUTS!!! They ruin all desserts!!”

My thoughts exactly! I think most (sane) people would agree that a chocolate chip cookie or chocolate brownie is perfectly delicious all on its own. They need no help from the nut family to enhance the taste or texture. And please do not ruin my brownie sundae by sprinkling nuts on it. Ever.

And while we are discussing desserts, I have to say that very rarely do I think it’s ok to put fruit in a dessert. I realize I am likely the minority in this one, especially because my husband is an apple pie/peach cobbler loving fool, but that’s just how I feel. And especially when it comes to ice cream or yogurt toppings… people who choose strawberries over chocolate chips, or better yet REESE’S PEANUT BUTTER CUPS, are, in my opinion, questionably insane.

But in all seriousness, I don’t mean to offend any of you or your eating habits. I am in no place to point fingers considering I dislike sea food and all fruits excluding apples, bananas, and grapes. Oh, and I also don’t like regular yogurt (as opposed to frozen yogurt). I would rather drink out of a toilet than consume yogurt.

Feel free to share your other opinions on food!

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

I have a very important question.

Should desserts (brownies, cookies, cakes, etc.) have nuts in them? Please share your thoughts, because I have a very firm opinion on this one, and I’m interested to see if I’m in the majority or the minority.

I thought about also finding out whether more of my readers like or dislike pickles, but because I hate pickles with such a fiery passion, I decided that I don’t really care if other people like them or not. And if you are curious as to why I don’t like pickles, please just take a look at one:

Sick. Sick. Sick.

Anyway, back onto the real topic of conversation here: nuts in dessert, or no nuts in dessert?

Monday, March 16, 2009

Off to a great start

Alternate title to this post: A lesson in humility

Last week some co-workers and I were discussing morning routines… talking about how some of us have our mornings timed down to the minute, and how others like to piddle. We were comparing what time everyone has to leave for work in order to make it on time. I mentioned that I normally leave the house at 6:52 am, allowing myself plenty of time to make it to work by 7:30. In fact, typically I get here about 7:15.

I mentioned that I have never really understood people who are late—especially people who are chronic snooze-button-pushers, or people who sleep through their alarms. That concept is foreign to me, and I have been known to judge those who show up late somewhere due to the aforementioned excuses rather harshly… my husband included!

So it was only fitting that today God deemed it fit to humble me and remind me that (gasp!), I am just as capable of making mistakes.

I went to sleep around 9:30 pm last night, so waking up at 5:15 am should not have been a problem. And in fact, I do recall waking up late into the night/early in the morning on several occasions, thinking to myself that surely my alarm would be going off any minute. But, and I’m sure many of you can relate to this, I had absolutely no desire to roll over and look at the clock, only to learn that there were a mere 3 minutes left until my alarm went off. So I did what I have been training myself to do: did not look at the clock and went back to sleep. Besides, it was still very dark and I was hoping it was more like 3 or 4 am instead of 5 am.

Eventually I did fall back asleep and was awakened by my alarm moments later… and by moments I mean TWO HOURS LATER. The music went off and I opened my eyes, and as I rolled over to turn off the alarm, I noticed 2 things: (1) there was light coming in from the window and (2) there was most definitely a “7” where the “5” should have been on my clock. Apparently I set my alarm clock for 7:16 instead of 5:16. Panic.

I then scrambled out of bed, and with my husband’s help, managed to brush my teeth, wash my face, put on deodorant, dress myself, and get into the car by 7:24 (that’s 8 minutes for those of you who are counting). I sprinted out to the car while Brian lovingly reminded me not to speed (yeah, right) and not to put my makeup on in the car (yeah, right) because it was foggy and he didn’t want me to get in a wreck. Let’s pretend I took his advice :o)

I miraculously arrived at work by 7:40 am, thankfully only 10 minutes late. Nonetheless, it has put a kink in my entire morning. I still feel a little panicked and rushed, and the fact that I didn’t have time to eat my daily bowl of Raisin Bran has really thrown me off. I also managed to run out of the house without putting my wedding ring on. So now I look like that frumpy single girl that gave up hope and stopped trying to impress anyone.

Although oddly enough, a co-worker informed me this morning that I look like a super hero today… something about the glasses and the bun? If my super power is having greasy hair that for some reason seems to be emitting the smell of corn tortillas, then he’s right on the money.

Anyway, I would love to say that I have learned my lesson and will never again judge someone for showing up late, but if we are going to honest, I will likely stubbornly continue to do so. Please forgive me. And while you’re at it, please see if Jillian Michaels will forgive me for not meeting up with her this morning for my daily dose of degradation, er, I mean workout.

Hope your Monday is off to a smoother start than mine!

Sunday, March 15, 2009

A change of heart

Ok, I will admit that, given my disdain for the moth in my last post, today’s post might surprise you a little bit. But it seems that poor Mothy (as we have affectionately named him/her) has died, and I am a little bummed.

He spread his wings one morning (he was actually kind of pretty, in a dirt brown kind of way), and that evening we found him next to the window on the ground. We noticed he was moving a bit, but not much. Brian then remembered that the pest control guy came out just last week, and thought maybe poor Mothy had been exposed to the bug spray. He scooted Mothy near the bushes, a little farther from the window, in hopes that he would regain his strength and fly away.

But sadly when we left for church this morning, we checked on Mothy and found that he was not responsive. We are still holding out hope that he will overcome, but things aren’t looking good.

Mothy, I can’t say we ever would have become friends, but I’m still sorry to see you go. RIP, my friend.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Yes, it’s most definitely time to move.

Warning: Again, if your name is Brittany Sciba, and/or if you fear creepy crawlies that FLY, do not continue reading. Consider yourselves warned… again!

So I had another e-mail from Brian waiting for me when I got to work this morning. The subject line was titled: “Harmless.” I had actually requested that Brian send this picture to me this time, so fortunately it wasn’t a great surprise like the spider e-mail. Nonetheless, I find the subject that he chose for the e-mail to be highly debatable.

You see, here is the picture that was in today’s e-mail:
You might not be able to see it very well because it’s not a very good picture, but that is, in fact, the world’s most gigantic moth. Seriously, it's like 4 inches wide. I happened to notice it when I was walking through the living room last night, although at first glance, I was certain that it had to be a small mammal. Please raise your hand if you had ANY idea that moths could be this huge, because I sure didn’t.

Once Brian got home, I told him very urgently that he needed to take a look at the creature, assuming that he, too, would run screaming for his life. He was unimpressed to say the least, and very reluctant when I asked him to photograph it for proof because he simply didn’t see the excitement or shock value in what he considered a "harmless" moth.

You see, I have never been a fan of moths. In fact, if you read the guest post that Allison wrote about me a few months ago, you’ll recall that she even included this fact in her list of 10 things you may or may not know about me (refer to # 3). Call me irrational, but moths legitimately frighten me. I think it’s the fact that they can fly, and the fact that they make such quick, sudden movements. And unlike butterflies, they are ugly. Especially this one.

Anyway, the moth was still there this morning, lurking and waiting to attack me and eat my flesh at any moment. Or circle around the porch light, either way. Regardless, when I told Brian that I wanted the moth to go away, he informed me that a moth is the danger equivalent to a butterfly. I then informed him that I think a moth is the danger equivalent to a vampire. You be the judge.

I think I’m going to implement a 3 strikes rule… we have had one tarantula spotting and one ginormous moth sighting all in a week—one more and I am packing my bags, people!

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Allow me to clarify

Just wanted to clarify from my last post that Brian by no means has to get my permission to eat anything, but typically he lets me know when he is going to go out to eat (read: spend money) rather than eat at home. But if we are going to be honest, I might or might not have a reputation for getting irritated with him for eating out when something perfectly good (and already paid for) is in the pantry at home. So when he is calling to “let me know,” we both know he is more or less asking for permission :).

I realize that this makes me sound petty, controlling, and bossy. Oh, and hypocritical, because if I am in the mood to eat out rather than eat at home, I dare you to be the person that tries to get in my way. I will own up to all 4 qualities if you promise not to pass judgment! I promise I have redeeming qualities—I can't think of them at the moment, but Brian must be able to think of one or two since he willingly married me… right?!

Anyway, there’s my dose of honesty for the day! Any perfect wives need not respond with comments :).

And by the way, daylight savings hit me like a brick this morning. 5:10 never felt as early as it did today. Barf.

Monday, March 9, 2009

How to make your wife paranoid

Warning: If your name is Brittany Sciba and/or you are terrified of creepy crawlies and bugs, do not continue reading. You have been warned!

So this morning I got a call from Brian while I was at work. This alone is blog-worthy, because Brian never calls me before noon unless it’s to request permission to eat fast food for breakfast. Anyway, he informed me that he had just sent me an e-mail and that I had to open it while I was on the phone with him.

So I look at my inbox and see an e-mail from him entitled “Eek!” Assuming it was a picture of the dogs (most likely of them doing something stupid and/or destructive), I opened the e-mail. As I was opening up the attachment, Brian warned me not to freak out. That’s always encouraging. So I opened the attachment, and here is what was staring back at me:

My reaction went a little like this: “OH. MY. GOSH. WHERE did you find that? And please tell me you killed it. If that was anywhere NEAR our house then we have to move. Like seriously, we have to move. Because if it was near the house, I can never sleep again.”

Brian then proceeded to tell me that he found the furry little friend on our driveway when he was leaving for work this morning. When I asked what he did with it (hoping the words “killed” or “destroyed” would be included in his response), he told me that he scooped it up in a cup and took it to work. WITH NO COVER ON IT. Who does that?!

So there I sat, having just learned that not only is my house surrounded by gigantic, flesh-eating, furry spiders, but also that my husband is certifiably insane. What a way to start the week.

Anyway, upon my urging, Brian did a little research to find out what type of spider it was. He learned that it was, in fact, a tarantula. He told me that although tarantulas aren’t venomous, they still bite. In fact, I believe his exact words were: “He can’t kill you, but he can still hurt you. You know, all spiders bite.” Thanks, Brian, for that reassuring bit of wisdom.

He also told me that the only reason he had taken the picture and sent it to me was because he wanted me to know that THAT was a big spider, and by comparison, all of the miniscule little spiders that I scream bloody murder over in the house are no big deal. Apparently he is not familiar with girl logic which states that all spiders are scary, life-endangering, and disgusting.

Ultimately he decided to release the spider into the wild outside of the church. And please remember that our house is just one block from the church, so if that spider comes back to take revenge by eating my face during the night, I am going to be really angry with my husband.

Although I will admit that when Brian told me that he thought the spider was dying, I started to feel sorry for the little guy. And then my mom—typical female response—suggested that maybe the spider was a mommy spider looking for her babies. And somehow my rage toward the 8-legged friend subsided. Although I did suggest that the spider mommy pack up her babies and move to Mexico.

Anyway, I am officially never going to be able to sleep without one eye open ever again. I am going to hope that this tarantula-spotting was a freak one-time only occurrence brought on by daylight savings time. That’s rational, right?

Friday, March 6, 2009

Answers to your thought-provoking questions

On a completely unrelated note, apparently yesterday was my 200th post. Hooray!

Now on to the topic at hand: time to answer your pressing questions about
my twin sis... get excited!

Q: Beth asked: What does Allison want to be when she grows up?

A: Ha- that is a big assumption to assume that she will ever actually grow up! But if she ever does, I'd say that ultimately she'd like to be a mommy, but we all also know she has also dreamed not-so-secretly of owning her own cupcake shop. She and Wade also used to talk about owning a bed and breakfast. But personally, I have always thought she'd be the ideal candidate to be my personal live-in nanny. Thoughts?

Allison asked (yes, that’s right, she asked a question about herself): Why is Allison so freaking awesome?

A: Easy question- because you have the same genes I do! Duh.

Q: Risa asked: How is Allison doing with giving up frappucinos for Lent?

A: Shockingly, she is doing quite well! I was worried at first that she was going to have to enter some sort of 12-step program, but not only has she abstained from having any fraps, but she has also avoided discussing them for the most part. A real victory for her, I'd say! Just a few more weeks to go... not that she's counting.

Q: Will the Olivers ever think about getting a dog sibling for Rocky?

A: Well considering raising Rocky has brought Allison to the brink of insanity on more than one (read: daily) occasion, I'd say that it will be a while before that happens. But eventually, I think they will settle down and get Rocky another 4-legged playmate.

Angela asked: What is Allison’s favorite part about being a twin?

A: Besides sharing genes with me (seriously, she is so lucky!), I would say that her favorite part is having someone who shares her sense of humor. I know exactly what to say to make her laugh until she cries and vice versa. Fortunately for us, Brian and Wade have taken quite well to our strange jokes and habits.

Q: What are her favorite pizza toppings?

A: Can hummus be a pizza topping? Because if so, that would be her choice. But if not, I would say a margherita pizza with tomatoes and mozzarella.

Q: Brian asked: Who would win in (A) an arm wrestling competition (B) a swimming race (C) paper, rock, scissors and (D) an art show?

A: (A) me, because I'm the "butch twin"
(B) her, likely because I hate swimming races (edited to add: she noted that she hates them as well... so it's quite possible that if faced with a swimming race, we would both give up without trying)
(C) a tie
(D) (what on earth?!) me maybe? I was more into art growing up than she was... she was too busy participating in pansy dance lessons

Q: JoAnna asked: What are the top five items in Allison’s purse at all times?

A: Excellent question, JoAnna! I would say:
1. wallet
2. gum
3. camera
4. chapstick
5. keys

Boring and predictable. Just like Allison! Ha ha, kidding, sis! (Kind of:) I should also add that these are the same top 5 items I would have listed for my own purse!

Q: Would Allison give Dewittle (that’s Rocky, for those of you who can’t translate puppy talk) a kidney if he needed it?

A: Yes. And growing up, this answer definitely would have been no because she wouldn't even willingly pet a dog. But now that Rocky has come along, I think she would offer up both kidneys if needed.

Q: What is the one item Allison can’t live without; her bobby pin, gum or her facebook account?

A: Tough call, but I'm going to say the gum. She could always grow her hair out, and I think eventually she could go through facebook rehab successfully. But knowing that she shares my same affinity for (a) good breath and (b) something that prevents excessive snacking, I think gum would be pretty hard for her to part with.

Q: Wade asked:
What is Allison’s favorite joke?

A: "Knock knock." "Who's there?" "Me." "Me who?" "MEHOO! Wouldn't that be a funny name? HA HA HA!"

Yep, I don't get it either. But trust me- it makes her laugh. every. time.

Q: Does Allison ever get trapped in the closet?

A: Yes, when Rocky traps her in there. Duh.

Q: Kelly asked: What is Allison’s greatest fear?

A: Morbid obesity. Or being left alone. It's a toss up!

Leah asked: What are Allison’s pet peeves?

A: I'm not sure there's enough room on the entire internet to list them all, so I'll just include a few:

the phrase, "It is what it is!"; when you leave just 1 or 2 sheets on the toilet paper roll; gum wrappers (or anything for that matter) left in the car; when people take pictures of the bed in their hotel room and put it on facebook; slowness in general; Rocky's diarrhea; the word "panties"; people who load the dishwasher from front to back rather than back to front; and maybe you didn't notice, but it also REALLY irritates her when the peeps at Starbucks get her order wrong :)

Kimmie asked: If Allison were to be miles away in another country and got hurt, would you feel it? (She said she was kidding, but let’s be honest, you’re all dying to know.)

A: Most definitely NOT! I am a firm believer that this doesn't actually happen to people and that they are lying if they say it does. But I know someone is going to get on here and write about how it totally happened to them, or their dad's brother's girlfriend's friend. So go ahead. I don't believe you. And Allison probably doesn't either :)

Q: What is Allison’s favorite cupcake ever?

A: This is sad, but I don't actually know? I think if she's smart, her answer would be a yellow cake cupcake with chocolate icing, but sadly, she thinks those are boring. So I am going to guess Vanilla Cheesecake or Chocolate Chip? (edited to add: she informed me that she, in fact, does not have a favorite!)

Q: What does Allison miss the most about living with her twin, either growing up or in college in the Chi-O house?

A: Probably my neatness and tidiness, sadly. Although believe it or not, she is more of a neat freak than I am if that is even possible. Or she was before Rocky came along- now she's loosened up a tad. Knowing her, she also probably misses being able to talk to me all the time without having to use up her precious cell phone minutes. Ha ha!

Oh, and she also probably misses when I leave 1 or 2 sheets on the toilet paper roll :)

Q: Stacey asked: Was Allison born before or after you?

A: Allison was born first- a whopping 60 seconds before me- thereby making me officially the youngest child in our family. And technically, this makes her a middle child- looks like I came out with the best deal on that one!

That was fun! Hopefully now you have a little bit better of an idea of what Allison is like. Or at least what I think Allison is like. I'll be sure to post any corrections to questions that I answered incorrectly, as I'm sure she'll be quick to point them out to me. Thanks to all that participated!

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Thought this might be a fun twist…

Ok so you know how everyone has been doing those posts lately where you can ask them whatever questions you want and they will answer them? Well I decided to copy them but with one minor difference.

You can ask me anything you want to know about my twin sissy, Allison! If you don’t know who she is, then (a) you don’t know me (b) you have never read my blog and (c) you are missing out. Either way, you can check her out here.

So ask away, and I will answer once I have a few questions stored up.

And if no one asks any questions, she will have her feelings hurt, not me. But if you hurt her feelings, I'll be mad at you. So to avoid getting into trouble twice (double trouble? hysterical), ask a question :o).

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Remember that time I talked about food?

So apparently it was not a wise move for me to mention the Thug Passion snow cone in my last post without actually sharing what flavors combine to create the magical combo. Sadly, not for a lack of interest, I didn’t ask during my visit to Chill Out. Right here and now, however, I vow to my readers that I will most certainly inquire the next time I stop by for a snow cone. No guarantees that I will try it (in fact, I can pretty much guarantee you that I won’t!), but the townie thing to do would be to at least find out what it’s made of, so I plan to do just that.

And now that we have the week’s most pressing news out of the way, let’s move on. I have had a little bit of a Jillian Michaels overload in the last 24 hours. Jillian and I have spent some time together not once, not twice, but THRICE (I love that word) since 7 pm yesterday evening. Don’t worry—I most definitely did not work out with her 3 times in that short of a time span. Sighting # 1 was obviously during my 2-hour watching of last night’s episode of TBL. And I think any of you that were watching would agree that the cliffhanger “to be continued” ending was both unfair and unnecessary. And I think you would also agree that Tah-ra is most definitely still on steroids.

Sighting # 2 took place around 5:15 this morning when Jillian and I got together to do The Shred. Her minions were also there, I should add, doing their best to make me feel ugly and weak (that’s ok because I get to eat DQ blizzards and they don’t!). But I will say that the workout (yes, still on level one) is getting easier the more I do it. AND I went out and bought some hand weights this weekend, so now I am legitimately participating. And legitimately sore.

And my final Jillian sighting was this morning on the news. Owen and Lauren, my favorite morning news anchors on Channel 2, were introducing some segment on childhood obesity, and the spokesperson that they talked with was none other than Jillian herself! Unlike in TBL and The Shred, Jillian was all dolled up and very clearly trying to look her best for the camera. I can’t blame her though, considering most of her TV time shows her yelling angrily while being showered with people’s sweat.

And speaking of obesity, I was un-pleasantly surprised to learn recently that they are putting a Taco Bell and KFC in the shopping center near our house. Seriously, Rich-Rose, do you really think you need another couple of fast food chains? Let’s please not forget the Trifecta, aka: an intersection in Rosenberg that includes a Little Ceasar's, Shipley’s, and Dairy Queen all on one corner. I will give them props for putting up a new Sonic in the new shopping center, because hey, no place hops like it. But would a Jason’s Deli, Jimmy John's, or Corner Bakery or other sandwich shop be so hard to add into the mix?

And speaking of food (sometimes my segue skills really impress me), Brian and I made calzones this week from a Cooking Light recipe and they were great! I don’t usually post recipes on here, but these were tasty and not that hard to make, so I would feel guilty for not sharing. Click here to check it out if you are interested. Beware if you are preparing them with a loved one, however, as these calzones launched a small marital dispute for the Joiners when my husband (with the best intentions) decided that the best way to re-heat them for dinner was to put them in the toaster oven… for an hour. A burned tongue and more than a few cross words later, we were over it. But I have to be honest and tell you that they tasted like burnt dirty shoes. Not to worry, however, because we properly re-heated them last night and they were excellent!

That’s all for today. Oh wait, one more thing. I have to go to the dentist this afternoon, so there is a chance that I will spend the remainder of the evening crying and feeling bad about myself if they tell me that I have any cavities (which they usually do). Dramatic? Perhaps. Predictable? Indeed. So for my husband’s sake, please pray for a cavity-free visit :o)