When you care enough to send the very best

Ok, so last night, I watched the hallmark hall of fame. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time, as I love not only Hallmark Hall of Fames themselves, but the awesome commercial breaks where they only show ads for Hallmark, and also this particular HHOF was the one where the girl that played Felicity had to marry some guy she had never met because she was pregnant. And I do so love Keri Russell and her lovely lovely Felicity Hair. She’s one of those ” I wish I was her so I kind of have a crush on her” girls. And of course I cried three times during the commercials, and in between crying and watching Felicity I told Erik all about how back in the day my best friend Sara and I would watch Hallmark Hall of Fames, and we loved the commercials more than anything. I don’t even remember any of the movies we watched, I only remember the commercials. I wish I could go back and watch the ones from the eighties but I’ve looked for them online and I can’t find them. One time my mom watched it with us and during some commercial where a girl got married and her best friend gave her a card, my mom was all “this makes me think of two girls ten years from now” and we looked at her like the complete freak that she was and we were totally embarrassed and freaked out and of course ten years later we both totally got married and gave each cards, so I will say that those people at Hallmark and my mom both totally know their shit. Anyway, the first commercial last night was about this card that this girl got from her best friend on her birthday, and I totally cried, and Mr. E just LOOKED at me and was like “OH MY GOD I cannot imagine you AND Sara watching this together.” It ruled.

The other fun part of the night was when I was talking out loud and I realized how freaky it was that I never start getting my period at night, only in the morning, and Mr. E told me it was because of the tides and the moon and cycles and other stuff that people and scientists totally do not get. And it kind of freaked me out, like, I don’t believe in all that moon tides chanting at night listening to Stevie Nicks and being pagan or whatever shit, but dude, how else do YOU explain it?

Little Anne

Although there are many many many sad and traumatic dog movies, including Old Yeller, Sounder, and the Summer of the Monkeys, I ‘ve always felt that Where the Red Fern Grows is the best. It is mad depressing. It was the first movie my mom ever rented me and my brother, like two days after my parents got a VCR, back in 1983 or whatever when they were first invented, and she turned it on and left the room. When she came back in the room my brother and I were sitting in the middle of the floor clutching each other (we were like 6 and 4) with tears streaming down our faces, just distraught, and we looked up at her like she was the worst woman in the world for renting such a thing. Which of course, she was.

Ever since then, the only dog I’ve ever wanted was a coonhound named Little Anne. Today Mr. E showed up at my office, out of the blue, holding a seven week puppy in his arms. There’s not a lot of things cooler in the world than your super cutie husband showing up at work to surprise you with a super cute puppy. Maybe the only thing better than that is finding out that the puppy is half coonhound, and that her name is Little Anne. As in, she was already named that, by the humane society. Somehow it just seems meant to be, don’t you think?

PS Gravey is not happy about this turn of events, from what I’ve heard.

Edited to say that actually, she didn’t come with the name Little Anne, Mr. E gave it to her because it “just seemed right”. I found that out later. I now refer to her as Pig Dog the majority of the time, because she looks just like a little pig. However, as my sister’s name is also Anne, Pig Dog’s official name is Annabelle. Or Little Anne. Or Pig Dog. Or Pee Factory.

Party with the Haitians

I have to say, January has been a super craptacular kind of month, so far anyway. Mainly because I just cannot get a good night’s sleep, and work has been super stressful and I am pissed off about gaining weight and having to go running in sucky get dark early Lincoln Nebraska and my husband wants to get a dog which we totally cannot afford because he broke another muffler off the car and did you know that Jettas have two mufflers? Jesus, the man is like, a muffler killer, you would think he would be a little more careful with the car since it costs twice as much to replace the two stinking mufflers. But my point is that no matter how much things suck or how many jerks get inaugurated or how many people ignore all the other problems in the world to have stupid award shows for stupid movies about howard hughes, I can always always always get in a better mood, just by watching a. Try it, it totally works, I promise!


I must, I must, I must decrease my bust

My lovely rude and flat chested and therefore totally not sympathetic husband chanted that at me this morning on the way to work. After I started bitching about how I have lost 25 pounds and none of it came off of my boobs and I was sick of nothing ever fitting in the chest area, mainly cardigan sweaters. How can I fulfill my wasp fashion destiny if I can’t wear cardigan sweaters?! It’s so frustrating. I have another 20 pounds to go, according to me, and I am hoping it all comes off my chest. I’ve been back to counting points for about two weeks now and the scale isn’t cooperating. No loss yet. Although Mr. E says I look thinner, which doesn’t really help, thanks. I don’t want to look thinner, I want to BE thinner. I know that makes more sense probably, but it makes sense to me. I’m giving it until V-(Valentines) Day, and if nothing happens by then, I’m going to have to try something else.

Gotta love the Fabulous

After receiving an urgent phone alert from my husband (I so married the right man!), I hightailed it over to yahoo movies and played the trailer for Miss Congeniality 2 – Armed and Fabulous. Woo hoo does this movie look crappy! I am SO there.

Oooh, we’re halfway there.

Today, using some sketchy calculations involving my fingers, Excel, my cat’s birthday, and Google, I realized that we have arrived at the halfway mark. Halfway between when we got here, and when we get to leave. Even though we have no idea where we’re going, which is really fucking scary, to tell you the truth, I know we can’t stay here. I just can’t do it anymore.

It’s not that lovely Lincoln, Nebraska is all that bad. It’s not. It’s just not where I want to be. I have discoved some things about it that are actually pretty cool…did you know that this is where Arbor Day was invented? Pretty cool to be able to plant a tree on Arbor Day right where it all got started. Ok, so I’ve had to sort of redefine what “cool” means of late, but that’s kind of my point.

I am tired. Tired of the midwest, tired of cold, tired of Republicans. Tired of redefining. But mostly, I am tired of making the best of things. I don’t want to have to scavenger hunt my way through a town and tell myself that things aren’t as bad at they first seemed, that they do have good bbq and some Democrats, or that boring holidays that no one cares about were started here.

I am tired of trying to find something good in a place I don’t like. I just want to be somewhere I like, and have the something good come easily.

Could someone in lovely Santa Monica, California please offer my husband a job? He’s really good at, um, looking at mud? ‘kay, great! Thanks!

Free meat filled buns, yeah!

There’s this weird Nebraska fast food sandwich thing called a Runza. It’s like loose meat baked in a roll. I don’t know. It’s not like I’m going to eat one, so I’m just going on what it looks like in the commercials. Apparently they sell them at Cornhuskers games instead of hot dogs. Freaky. The point is that I always hear these radio ads about how you can get a Runza for whatever temperature it is at 8 am that morning. This morning it was zero freaking degrees! Does that mean I would have gotten a free meat bun sandwich at 8 am? I certainly hope so.

Which brings me to my main point, which is that what better day than today, the day of zero freaking degrees, to finally commit and buy our airline tickets for our super lovely fabuloso spring vacation? The vacation where we will lie in the sun and think about how we are not in freezing ass meat bun land. Thanks to Orbitz and Mastercard two tickets to Cancun have been procured. Sweet! Due to my “I won’t lie on a beach anywhere MTV has ever had a beach house” life rule, we’ll actually be lying on the beach 40 miles away from Cancun in Playa del Carmen. If you’re stalking me, that’s where I’ll be. And if MTV has had a beach house there, since I’ve had good cable, please don’t tell me. And obviously I’ll be needing a new bikini, which brings me to this, yo. I’m quite excited to rock the floral tropical print in Mexico.


And by the way, my only other life rule, as of right now, is that I don’t watch Friends reruns, so if I’m coming over to visit your house, turn off the goddamn tv. Oh, and I don’t watch Robin Williams movies, as he is my mortal enemy. Suck it, Patch Adams.