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Thursday, March 25, 2010

Happy birthday to two of my favorite brothers!

Yes, that's right, I have TWO brothers that are about to celebrate birthdays- Wade (my brother-in-law) is turning 26 on the 26th (Golden Birthday!), and Andrew (my brother) is turning 30 on the 29th!

My sisters, niece, mom and I will all be up in Vermont to help Andrew (and his wifey) ring in the big 3-0. It's not often that all 4 siblings are together, so we are all looking forward to some fun Nelson family bonding while those of us who are NOT accustomed to an actual winter make our best efforts not to turn into snow(wo)men. And we will, of course, miss our respective spouses/families/pets and Pop Pop, the head of the Nelson clan!

Wade will be celebrating his big day without his other half (well, technically she's my other half, but you get the idea), so make sure to leave him lots of birthday love!

This is the first picture I ever took with Wade, and it happened to be taken the night that he and Allison met!

I don't know how old we were here, but I'm pretty sure that you'll all agree that this picture is totally awesome for a lot of reasons.

Happy birthday, Wade and Andrew!

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Warning: do not read while eating

So I just wanted to first mention that I recently received an e-mail from someone whose e-mail address was “alwaysfartin@xxxxx.com” (domain name changed to protect the innocent). That’s great that you’re so proud of your bodily functions, but do you really think it’s wise to advertise this habit of yours for all the world to see by making it your e-mail address? How about trying something more original, like “nevergoingtogetagirlfriend@yahoo.com,” or “iobviouslyhavenofriends@gmail.com”? Just a suggestion.

And while we’re on the topic of bodily functions, Brian recently took Buster to the vet, and in addition to finding out that Buster is slightly overweight, Brian also learned that he was responsible, once again, for collecting Buster’s “stool sample” and bringing it back to the vet to be examined. Let me just stop right here and say that it is times like these that I am very, VERY thankful to have a husband, because there is no way you are going to convince me to go on a treasure hunt in our backyard to scoop up some of Buster’s poop, stick it in a container, and drive it around town.

So anyway, Brian obediently retrieved the sample and took it back to the vet, and then we more or less forgot about it. Well this past weekend (about a week after Brian took the sample back), we received a note in the mail letting us know that Buster’s stool sample was delinquent and overdue. Um. Question: how does one lose a sample of poop?

I really want to outline some possible scenarios right now, but for fear of losing readers, I will refrain from grossing you all out with the ideas my imagination is producing.

Anyway, Brian called the vet yesterday and they said that it was all a mix-up, that they had received the sample, and that Buster was in the clear. Phew, because I was really losing sleep over that one.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

My kind of date night

I don't want to make anyone jealous, but I do feel compelled to share with you how Brian and I spent our Saturday evening:

We lounged on one of these:
While watching this on the Disney channel:


Followed by this from Netflix:


While eating this for dinner (take-out):


And polishing off one of these for dessert:


And then crawled in bed and went to sleep at this time:



I can't tell if this makes us seem more like elementary school students or an elderly couple. Either way, I clearly need to get off the computer and go rest in order to recover, so I'm out of here. Peace!

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Just some more rambling about dairy products

So did everyone wear green yesterday? I sure hope so, because I’m too frugal to waste gas driving to all of your houses to harass if you not… especially those of you that I don’t know.

Like any true fan of the Irish would do, I celebrated St. Patrick’s Day by eating Mexican food for lunch with my co-workers. I’m pretty sure that along with 4-leaf clovers and leprechauns, eating enough tortilla chips to put you in a food coma for the remainder of the day is one of the top holiday traditions. And if so, then consider me extra festive.

And if that wasn’t extreme enough, while the rest of the world was probably out drinking green beer last night, Brian and I were eating leftover soup and hanging out with middle school students at Bible Study. I know, we need to get our wild lifestyle under control… we’ll work on that. Heck, maybe we’ll kick things up a notch by going to the outlet mall this weekend, and perhaps even taking a trip to HEB? I’ll be sure to keep you posted.

In other news (as if this post isn’t already exciting enough as it is!) and speaking of HEB, I accidentally bought 1% milk this week instead of the usual skim milk. My issue with 1% is not the fat content, but the taste. Because as I’m sure many of you have experienced firsthand, once you go skim, you can’t go back… it’s a little like going from drinking only flavored water to drinking a smoothie. (And the fact that people actually drink flavored water is another topic that I’ll save for another day, because really? Flavored water? What is the point?!)

Anyway, this used to happen a lot at the sorority house when the person that loaded the milk machine would accidentally put 2% in the skim milk dispenser, and I could always tell instantly because it looked more like Elmer’s glue than my usual milk. And really the taste isn’t all that different—just a little thicker and a little sweeter—but enough to make my very conservative taste buds (who, mind you, are used to having the exact same thing for breakfast over and over again) suspicious.

I kindly requested that my husband—who would probably have us drink whole milk if I wasn’t so insistent about skim and he wasn’t so laid back… about everything—drink as much of the 1% milk possible and as quickly as possible so as to get rid of it without wasting it. I also requested that he would have Baby Dinosaur (who is, by the way, on Spring Break this week) drink an extra glass (translation: drink an extra glass yourself or pour it down the drain for all I care—just get rid of it), but I had no luck. And somehow, considering that Brian eats breakfast all of two times per week, I have a feeling that my mornings of tainted milk are not over yet.

You know what’s impressive? That I just devoted 3 paragraphs to the topic of my accidental milk purchase.

You know what’s even more impressive? You’re still reading.

Happy Thursday!

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Sweet dreams are made of this... literally

I started to say that the news I’m about to share is possibly the most random thing I have ever typed out, but then I remembered the post about Australian Sea Lion Liver poisoning and realized that in comparison, this is probably not so strange. But regardless, I think you’ll agree that it’s a little unusual:

I won a mattress!

That’s not actually true… I won a mattress SET. A queen mattress set, to be precise.

There’s a website that I frequent called Houston on the Cheap, which basically offers discounts, deals, and tips on things in the Houston area. Recently the host of the website held a contest for someone to win a free mattress set from Mattress Giant in honor of National Napping Day, which apparently was yesterday.

So basically I entered my name and, well, you get the idea.

There are probably more exciting things in life that I could have won (like, oh, I don’t know, a lifetime supply of Dairy Queen blizzards), but in case you weren’t aware, mattresses are not cheap, so you most definitely will not see me turning down a free one. Oh, and let’s not ignore the fact that having somewhere comfortable to sleep is probably more beneficial to me in the long run than eating myself into morbid obesity. Just a hunch.

And on a completely unrelated note, tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day, which means that I will, in fact, verbally and otherwise harass anyone that I see that does not wear green. What kind of Debbie Downer doesn’t wear appropriate holiday colors, by the way? I’m not saying that you need to wear themed Christmas sweaters with dancing snowmen on them or anything, but would it really hurt you to outwardly display just a little bit of festiveness? I’m sorry, but I just like tradition, and furthermore, I like forcing my opinions on other people, ok?

So anyway, one of my co-workers was wearing a green shirt today, and so of course I took the opportunity to tease her and point out the fact that if she wears green tomorrow (which, clearly, unless she wants to incur my merciless wrath, she will do), she will be wearing green two days in a row.

I was feeling pretty smug (isn’t being prideful an attractive quality?) for pointing this out to her… until she pointed at my shirt. Which happens to be green. Oops.

Looks like she won’t be alone in committing the cardinal sin of wearing the same color two days in a row. I was a little bummed to learn this at first, but not for long, because in case you forgot, I am now the proud owner of a free queen mattress set.
And now this post has come full circle. The end.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Thoughts from a Sunday afternoon

1. Today is my sister-in-law, Kelly's, 27th birthday! Yep, that's right, she is the same age as Allison and me. Ok that's not true, she's 2.5 months older. My almost 30-year-old brother is a cradle robber, which accounts for the fact that she is our age and not his. Anyway, make sure to go over to her blog and give her some birthday love. Even if you don't know her... do it.

2. It seems cruel to bring this up considering the birthday girl woke up to a rain/snow mix in Vermont today, but I had to mention that the weather in Texas (well, Houston anyway) was PERFECT this weekend. Sunny and 70 degrees without a cloud in the sky. To celebrate, we took the dogs on a walk and went on our first snow cone excursion of the year with Brian's sister and mom. I regret to inform you that none of us ordered a thug passion snow cone. In fact, I didn't order a snow cone at all. Personally, I blame the Girl Scouts because they have convinced me that no dessert can bring me as much joy as a Tagalong... except maybe a Samoa. Darn you, Girl Scouts!!!

3. I realize that I should just go ahead and accept daylight savings time as an inevitable recurrence in my life, but I just don't want to. I am angry that it stole an hour of my sleep last night. Just one question: am I still allowed to be angry about it even though I actually got around 20 hours of sleep this weekend?

4. Speaking of sleep, this is disgusting, but I had a dream the other night that a roach crawled out of my nose. Have you finished gagging yet?

5. I also recently had a dream that my boss yelled at me because he didn't like the way I took down my phone messages on my notepad. And when I tried to show him that I actually took very detailed and helpful notes, all I could find on the notepad were grocery lists and phone numbers for lawn maintenance companies.

6. I also had a dream recently that I had a baby and kept forgetting to feed it for days on end.

7. Is it safe to say at this point that I have issues?

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Lessons in humility

Remember the time (yesterday) that Allison wrote a blog for me and pretended to be me? Well she is such a helpful and supportive sister that on top of that, she got a second blog post started for me. Sometimes I wonder what the rest of you ever do without having a twin…

Anyway, (this is where she started typing) I have been feeling rather uninspired when it comes to blogging lately, so I’m going to do what any good blogger would do in my situation: make a list. For your reading pleasure, below is a list of some of my most embarrassing moments:

- Running into (and tumbling over) a fire hydrant in middle school during gym class when I got distracted looking at cute boys

- Fracturing my foot while playing an intense round of charades with my in-laws… before they were my in-laws

- Mistakenly calling my friend’s dad a “bastard” when I was little because I didn’t know what it meant, or that it was anything more than just calling him “dude”

- Getting sent to the principal’s office in high school for wearing a shirt that my teacher referred to as having a “plunging neckline” (this is where she stopped typing)

- Colliding with a manikin in the jewelry department of Neiman Marcus when I thought that I saw someone I knew and stopped paying attention to where I was going (also middle school… 3 very awkward years)

- Asking my mom’s friend when her baby was due, only to find out from the blank stare on her face that she was not at all pregnant

- Let’s not forget the time I accidentally told a college professor that his wife was boring and mean

And that list should probably suffice for now. I think these are all fairly self-explanatory, but if you would like to hear any of them explained in further detail, please let me know!

Also, I’m sure you will all be glad to know that Darius Rucker did not disappoint last night. He played not one, not two, but THREE Hootie and the Blowfish songs, and for that trip down 7th grade memory lane, I was very grateful. I was not grateful, however, that the song he closed with was “Purple Rain” by Prince. Random? Yes. Next time, Darius, please check with me before deviating from your standard playlist like that. Thanks.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Hootie

Disclaimer: this post was actually written by my beautiful, wonderful, amazing, selfless sister, Allison, because I am too lazy and distracted to write my own material.

Guess who scored free tickets to the Houston Rodeo tonight? If you guessed Brian and me, you would be correct! If you guessed someone else, you’re dumb.

The Cruikshanks were kind enough to invite us to use some tickets they were given, so we will have the pleasure of going with them and the Higginses to see Darius Rucker perform - I have high hopes that he will perform some old Hootie & the Blowfish hits. Because I’m sure he never gets that.


In addition to hearing “I Only Wanna Be With You”, my other mission for the evening is to find something non-fried to eat for dinner. The odds are not good considering they will fry anything and everything at the rodeo, but I’ll let you know how it turns out. Meanwhile, I think you should leave a comment on this post telling me who YOU would most like to see perform at the Houston rodeo (or any other rodeo, if you aren't near H-town). Ready, set, go!

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Happy, happy, joy, joy!

It's a good thing that my pal and fellow blogger, Annie, tagged me yesterday, because my brain has been living on another planet this past week, and the thought of having to organize words on a page sounds like a very daunting task at the moment. A top 10 list, however? Very do-able.

So let's get on with it.

Annie very kindly bestowed the Happy 101 Award on me, which looks a little something like this:

The rules are simple: List 10 things that make me happy. Read on...

1. Handwritten mail... and that doesn't include when I receive previously self-addressed appointment reminders from the doctor's office.

2. Dairy Queen Blizzards, particularly when Reese's peanut butter cups are involved

3. An empty laundry basket!

4. The zoo... seriously, I love the zoo.

5. Conversations with Brian and our imaginary pals

6. Thursday night television (which I am currently ignoring in favor of typing this, by the way- you're welcome!)

7. Turning my alarm clock OFF on Friday nights- greatest feeling ever!

8. Shopping with my sis... and then finishing off our shopping with Mexican food and/or excessive dessert-consumption

9. Going on walks with Noah and Buster

10. Getting comments on the blog... shameless, but true!


And because you all make me so happy, you are all tagged- so get to work!!

Monday, March 1, 2010

Isn’t it ironic?

Unless you had your head stuck in the sand during the 90s, then you know the origin of today’s post title. And for the record, I really consider that Alanis Morisette album to have been the soundtrack for my 7th grade year, which is amusing considering how angry the whole cd was and how little I actually had to be angry about in 7th grade, but that’s beside the point.

So Brian left town this weekend (now you understand why I was blogging—about our dogs, no less—on a Friday night) for a high school retreat. And while I missed him and was sad to spend the weekend without him, it actually went by fairly quickly and painlessly, in large part due to the fact that I spent 6 hours of Saturday volunteering at the Junior League. Personally, I would have preferred spending the entire day in my pajamas watching Mean Girls and The Notebook, but that also would likely have been slightly less fulfilling.

So anyway, back to the irony. Although as many of Alanis’s critics pointed out about the contents of the song, “Ironic,” the following events are really more coincidental than they are ironic, but just roll with it.

I have mentioned before that I believe there is some kind of unspoken law in life that states that when the husband goes out of town, the house and everything in it rebelliously starts malfunctioning in order to punish the wife for being so co-dependent. Enter my three pieces of evidence from this past weekend:

1. The smoke detectors turned on me. As with many smoke detectors, when the battery is getting low on one of ours, the detector starts beeping. It usually starts out sporadically and is only noticed a few times throughout the day, never urgent or irritating enough to make us drop what we are doing to actually attend to it. This started to happen last week, but as luck would have it, we never addressed the problem before he left.

So there I was, all tucked up in bed at 9 pm on Saturday (hello, please call me grandma), mindlessly watching some form of skiing on the Olympics, when all of the sudden the BEEPING struck again. I knew I had to attend to it or it would only get worse throughout the night.

And call me stupid, but I know nothing about smoke detectors. Those are boy territory. So what did I do? Called Wade, Allison’s husband, to assist me over the phone. I’m sure he had high hopes for my ability to solve the problem when he learned that I couldn’t even figure out how to remove the plastic cover of the smoke detector (which requires basically the same skills as untwisting the top of a bottle of Advil).

Nonetheless, I was able to figure it out, but after climbing up on a chair to test each one, I couldn’t determine which of the three was the culprit because the “test” function worked on all of them. So I let Wade go and decided not to worry about it… until moments after hanging up when I realized that whatever I had done to “test” each one apparently ticked all of them off because at that point ALL THREE of them started sporadically beeping. And when I say “beeping,” I mean that they were taking turns taunting me mercilessly.

Not wanting to bug Wade again, I called my dad. I am clearly very resourceful. His sound fatherly advice was basically to remove the batteries from all three detectors and just leave them like that until Brian came home on Sunday. Note to self: Do not ask Dad to teach my future children about the importance of fire safety.

Regardless, I was too tired to mess with it myself, and the thought of being awakened by the beeping in the middle of the night apparently frightened me more than the thought of dying in a fire, so I headed to bed and politely asked God not to burn down the house. And as evidenced by today’s post, my prayer did not go unanswered. Hallelujah!

2. Revenge of the roaches. Yep, you knew this was coming. A few weeks ago when we returned from our trip to Nashville to a roach-free house, I (prematurely, apparently) declared victory over the cockroaches. So essentially, I blame myself for what you are about to read.

On Saturday morning, I awoke from a glorious night of uninterrupted sleep (thanks to my out-of-commission smoke detectors). I stumbled into the bathroom without turning on the light, only to notice something dark smeared on the inside of our sink. I thought, “Hmm, that’s weird… I wouldn’t have left any toothpaste in the sink because that’s not my style, and the most likely culprit is currently asleep 1.5 hours away from here in a cabin full of high schoolers.”

So I flipped the switch and on came the light, only to reveal not only a light brownish splotch on the sink, but also the offender—a cockroach hanging on for dear life on the drain stopper of my sink. My very small bathroom sink, mind you, meaning that the roach was a mere 3-4 inches away from my TOOTHBRUSH. WHICH I PUT IN MY MOUTH. TWICE A DAY.

Where did the blotch on the sink come from, you ask? Oh, don’t worry, that was just his ROACH GOO that he leaked onto the sink before sliding down toward the drain stopper to breathe his final breaths. He was not yet dead, however, when I encountered him, so because my fearless roach-murdering husband was no where to be found, I had the privilege of wadding up some toilet paper, grabbing a hold of the little demon, and sending him to his burial at sea myself.

And don’t you think for a second that I wasn’t paralyzed with fear for my next several trips to the potty that the roach knew how to swim and was going to crawl out of the toilet to get me. Perhaps what terrifies me the most, however, is not knowing how he got into the sink and what other territory of our house he covered on his journey. So. Incredibly. Disgusting.

3. The case of the missing dog collar. Don’t worry, this one actually has a happy ending.

While I was eating my dinner on Saturday evening, Buster and Noah were, as usual, jumping up at the window to get my attention. I glanced over and noticed that Buster was not wearing his collar. Because why would he lose his collar when Brian was in town to go search for it? That would clearly not be realistic.

So I threw on some shoes and paraded around our yard in search of the collar for a good 5 to 10 minutes. I searched under piles of leaves, in the bushes, along the fence line, and it could not be found! I was planning to go hang out with a friend for the evening and started to worry that if I didn’t find the collar and left Buster to wander the yard without one, it would be the ONE time he got out and he would be lost forever. Perfectly rational.

Just as I was about to call Brian (as if he would be able to help? I think I just wanted to whine), Buster came over to lick and otherwise irritate me. I got down by his face and in my most overdramatic and hopeless voice said to him, “Buster, WHERE is your collar???”

And I kid you not about what happened next: He trotted off by the fence line and started to sniff around, glancing back at me sympathetically in between sniffs. I thought it was sweet that he was actually pretending to help, but obviously didn’t expect anything to come of it, UNTIL he trotted across the yard, nosed through a pile of leaves, and pulled the collar out with his teeth! He then proceeded to trot back over to me with the collar in his mouth.

I am not making this up! And yes, he is the cutest dog ever (well, along with Noah)! I am thinking that if we could just train him not to cry so much or eat his own poop, he would have real potential to be the next Lassie.

So alas, Buster turned my potential third moment of husband-less despair into a proud dog-mom moment. Thanks for that one, Buster.

So what I’m wondering is this: have any of you other wives noticed the increased tendency for things to go awry at your house when your husband leaves town? Do share. Especially if roaches are involved, because hey, misery loves company.