A panda video? Really? That's it? ...Srsly?

So I guess it's time to update this sucker. Nope, nothing new to discuss. But my friend Valry did turn me on to this video of a baby panda sneezing, THANK GOODNESS. I will never stop laughing. Amazing.



PS- I'm really sorry about the suggested video at the end. You'll know it when you see it.

Creeeepy...

I think the topic of my creepy neighbor warrants further discussion. I always knew he was an oddball (see here), but the past few weeks he has really begun to make me uneasy. It started with him leaning out from behind his truck to stare penetratingly into our home one day when I opened the blinds, and it ended with him coming and standing within ten feet of me for no good reason one day without saying anything for three or four minutes while I was waiting for Penny to hurry up and take a dump. As though I were a T-Rex, and as long as he kept perfectly still, I wouldn’t even know he was there. That was the last straw, but there were lots of things in between, too, the most notable of which was him following me in his golf cart from one end of the apartment complex to the other as I walked to get the mail. Once I got to my mailbox, he came careening around the corner and parked haphazardly near the curb to then quiz me on all the things the postman had brought me that day. Another time, while I was waiting in the Jeep for Jon (who had run into the apartment to grab my purse before we left to go to the dog park), creepy neighbor buddy came down the stairs to the parking lot, then stood at the bed of his truck, perfectly parallel to me, and stared me down until Jon emerged from our house. Each time I glanced over at him, he was looking right at my face, and he didn’t even bother to look away. And there were lots of little things, too, like how every single time when I walked Penny to her potty spot, THAT was the moment he decided to come outside to have a smoke. Or like how the one day I’ve ever used our exercise facility, THAT was the day he had to be walking back and forth through it. Mind you, this man is my next door neighbor. We share an entryway and a living room wall. He’s also an employee of the complex, doing maintenance and grounds keeping and whatnot. To be fair though, honestly, I’ve never felt scared of him or directly threatened or anything. As I put it in a recent letter to a friend:


“It’s not like I’m scared of him, or I think he’s going to use his master key to come watch me sleep while Jon is out of town, but I definitely think he’s an oddball that needs someone to explain to him ‘You don’t stare into tenant’s windows for prolonged amounts of time’. You know? One of those guys whose mother never taught him how to be normal? How to act around people? The difference between being friendly and being an effing psychopath? These are all valuable life lessons that he must have somehow missed out on.”


Anyway, so I typed myself up a nice little letter and walked it on down to management. And that’s the end of that. Hopefully.


Other than that, not much going on. Being bored to death at work, Jon off traveling around, getting excited for the holidays. Trying to come up with ideas for Christmas gifts. Planning out all the delicious places I’m going to eat while in Salt Lake City for Thanksgiving. Preparing for my upcoming weekend in Las Vegas. This is the stuff I think about when there is absolutely nothing else to do. Sorry I even mentioned it. Things will pick up soon and I’ll have lots to blog about, but for now…this is what you get.

Step 1: Caulk the tub. Step 2: Clean the tub

I probably shouldn’t even mention this. But I’m going to anyway. I caulked our bathtub the other day (don’t be too impressed, I did a really terrible job) and THIS is what the floor of the tub looked like when I was finished:

.........and I just lost half my readers. Including my mom.

Careful. I'm Freakishly Strong.

I keep forgetting to mention that I tore a phone book in half a couple of days ago at work. Seriously. A coworker taught me the proper technique, and I got it on the first try. It was HILARIOUS. Just trust me on that.

The Reveal

TA DAH! Sarah Palin. Okay, so maybe not the most original idea (the glasses were almost sold out), but I was excited about it anyway. I’ve been planning on it ever since McCain announced her as his running mate. It would have been a little more convincing if my most recent hair color hadn’t all washed out after only two weeks (jerks, I’m never going back to that salon), but I think I still managed to pull it off by doing and wearing the following things:

1.) Profuse Hair Teasing - something I learned how to do through careful observation while living in Idaho. Palin lived in Idaho too for a while, which is where I suspect she learned how to tease her hair. Idaho is also where she must have picked up on some other silly habits, such as saying words like “oil fillds” and giving her children really stupid names. Anyway, after teasing my hair, I curled the ends, smoothed the surface over the matted destruction, and put it all into a fancy twist up-do. Some gel into my bangs to give them that deliberately piecey look, and I was on my way.



2.) Four Words: Sarah Palin Skirt Suit. Three Words: Sarah Palin Glasses. (PS- according to a certain person that I don’t get along with too well, Sarah Palin ONLY wears red skirt suits. Sarah Palin has NEVER worn a different color of suit. SHE ONLY WEARS RED. Since I’m not wearing red, according to this person, I can’t portray Sarah Palin. Who ONLY wears red. Who never has and never will wear any color of skirt suit other than RED.)

3.) Extreme Makeup. Severe blush, ugly brownish-purple lipstick, three coats of mascara – you get the idea.




4.) Pantyhose. Can you imagine her without it? I can’t. I’ve never actually bought any before, unless you count that one unfortunate incident 12 years ago when I filled out a “redeem your free pantyhose!” mailer and sent it off without reading the fine print. My mom was obligated to buy pantyhose from them for at least another decade. Anyway, I was a little lost when I was studying my options in Walgreens, until I noticed a color choice called “Suntan”. That was it. The woman lives in Alaska for crying out loud, I’m almost positive she wears suntan colored pantyhose.

 and 5.) FLAG LAPEL PIN. I tore my house apart looking for the flag pin I’ve had since I was fourteen. AND I FOUND IT.





Jon made my day by showing up at my work party (yes, I wore this to work) dressed as McCain.

The more I think about it, the more I wish I'd added "and I approve this message" at the bottom of this nametag. I'm kicking myself. Just pretend like it's there.

Jon wandered around the party without breaking character. Began and ended sentences with “my friends”. Never raised his hands above his shoulders (even when certain games required it). Stuff like that. He's my hero. I have no clue how he dug up that Alaska baseball cap.

Bless his heart.

Halloween: The Golden Years

Halloween, the third best holiday of the year, is in two short days. In preparation, let's take a look back at some golden Sweet family moments.




Here we are, a joyful bunch, ready to begin a night of trick-or-treating in good old Rexburg, Idaho. As you can clearly see, I’m dressed as a Crayon, unitard-clad Annie is a pink panther, Jake is some sort of monster, and Corinne resembles the love-child of a gypsy and a candy corn (?). The first person to spot the coffee table that now resides in my living room wins.




This was mid Princess Phase. The Princess Phase went on for more years than I care to discuss. I will say that I have definitely seen happier pictures of myself. I’ve also seen more well-centered pictures, where the heads of ALL the children are visible. Sorry, Jake. Annie, dressed yet again as a feline, insisted on doing her own make-up for her cheetah costume. I’m not exactly sure what Corinne is going for in this picture, but it’s always fun to pair stirrup pants with a jean jacket, stick your hair in a couple of side ponytails and smear lipstick on your face in random splotches.


Now, I can’t blame this next picture on anyone but myself. My mom specifically asked us every single year what we wanted to be for Halloween, then she made every effort to make sure we could be what we had picked, even if it meant sewing costumes until her fingers bled. The point is, we always got to CHOOSE; because my mother was crafty, we never had to recycle a costume unless we wanted to. Well one unfortunate year, I had my heart set on being a pirate... and I’m not talking about a cute girl-pirate, either. Heck no. I wanted to be a plundering man-pirate, complete with a scratchy beard, eye patch, and pantaloons tucked into my boots. My dear mom made my dream a reality.

Oh my.

Anyway, the real reason for this trip down memory lane is to lead up to my costume for THIS year. I’ve known for months what I’m going to be and I could NOT be more excited about it. In case anyone wants to guess at what it might be, here are a couple of hints:


1) Never mind, you don’t get any hints. Anything I say will give it away. But you can guess anyway, if you want. Or not. Stay tuned for pictures!!

Poor Jon

Sunday evening, after an uneventful weekend full of laundry, a friend from my work called and asked if we would be able to pick up his dog from a boarding facility. He’d spent the weekend in Flagstaff and had hit a delay on his way home, so he couldn’t make it back in time to pick Mollie up before they closed at 6:00. We were happy to help, and when we arrived back at our apartment parking lot, Jon jumped out of the Jeep and headed to the back to let the dog out. I had Penny on my lap in the front seat, and it took me a few moments to get all my stuff situated, so by the time I was out of the car and walked around to where Jon was, he already had Mollie by the leash..... But he was just standing there with a blank expression on his face, kind of swaying from side to side.


Me: Hello?
Jon: [no response, eyes glazed over]
Me: Jon…what are you doing?
Jon: [no response, sways back and forth some more]
Me: JONATHAN, what. are. you. DOING?
Jon: [silence, begins shaking his head slightly]
Me: JONATHAN GLEN, WHAT THE H*** HAPPENED TO YOU???
Jon: [Turns and sits on the bumper of the Jeep]


Anyway, so what happened was that the hatchback of the Jeep fell on his head and almost knocked him out. He says he couldn’t see or hear anything for about a minute. I didn’t laugh at the time, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think it’s HILARIOUS.

Why I'm not a Gymnast

I have this on my hard drive at work, and I watch it at least once a week. I can only hope that it brings you half as much joy as it brings me.

Texting, Continued

It's that time again - my phone's inbox is full and I've got to delete text messages to make room! We all know what that means...! Or if we don't, we will soon be caught up to speed after clicking on the link included in this paragraph! Here we go! I like exclamation points!

--------------------



"[My husband] just called me a fart Nazi because I yelled at him for farting."



"It's a broccoli!"

"After the flinker incident, Sweetie has made it pretty clear I should find a hotel – with good plumbing – while in the vicinity." [she's referring to this terrifying event]

"So my mom got Nastia Liuken’s autograph at the Reno airport! Sounds to me like she’s fallen on rough times, pawned her gold medal and gambling in Reno. Only explanation."

"Yes but how would you like to be Fonda Johnson? As in ‘fond of’." [There really is a woman in this person’s ward named “Fonda Johnson”. Unreal.]

"There is a mystery marching band outside of my apartment. What is it doing there? What is its purpose?"

[and introducing what I'm sure you will agree is the best text I've received so far this year...]

"My mom inexplicably slammed her boob in an ice chest today and almost ripped her nipple off! It was bleeding! She was laughing and crying at the same time. For some reason I really wanted to tell you."

To Whom it May Concern

Here's the result. I figured October is as good of a month as any to finally go dark for real. To all of you jerks that are going to try to blow this up to get a look at the aforementioned throbbing monstrosity on my forehead - too bad - I'm sneakier than you think.

I'm not the hugest fan of this picture, but Jon was getting sick of it all so I cut my losses and went with it. So there you go.

A couple of thoughts

1.) Tonight at Starbucks, Jon and I had front row seats to a parking lot sobriety test that was failed miserably. It was one of the funniest things I've ever seen. The woman couldn't even stand on the line with both feet on the ground without falling over, but the true comedy came when they asked her to walk a couple of paces, one foot in front of the other. She lifted her right foot, thought intensely for a moment, wobbled a bit, then set it down in about the correct location. Close enough, at least. Then, she lifted her left foot, thought intensely for another moment, and set it down right on top of her right foot. HILARIOUS.

and 2.) Have you ever had a zit on your forehead so huge that your hairdresser's hand gets caught on it, then she looks to see what her hand got caught on, then she apologizes for looking?

Not very tricky...

So after I went and bought a ton of Halloween candy, poured it all into one of those classic jack-o-lantern pails, and set it out on my desk for the entire office to enjoy, into my head popped the most hilarious scenario. It went like this: I choose one person at work and I don't let them take a piece of candy until they say "Trick or Treat". I make this person believe that I make everyone in the office say "Trick or Treat" before allowing them to take a piece of my candy. THEN, when a group of people are all standing around in the lobby, this person comes along for a little snack, says "Trick or Treat", waits for my approval before taking their candy, and everyone laughs at them. SO--- I picked my victim (it really wasn't a difficult decision, let's just leave it at that), and IT'S NOT WORKING. Apparently, he'd prefer just not have any candy at all rather than say "Trick or Treat". I probably should have foreseen that. Plan ruined.




What on earth could possibly be lamer than a motorcycle cop? How about a...?










Picture thanks to Jon, who is currently on his way home from his most recent trip to spend his SIXTH CONSECUTIVE WEEKEND at home with yours truly. The water you see in the picture is the Juan de Fuca Strait, which is not in South America at all. Not even close.

Gloggity Glogg

Remember camcorder buddy? Our next-door neighbor that gave us his old camcorder when he bought a new one? The guy that later quizzed us when we were on our way out the door to go to my company barbeque and asked why we weren’t taking it with us? Well as it turns out, he’s one of the maintenance people for the entire apartment complex. One day Jon’s chatting with him about life in general, and the next thing we know, we’ve got all new fixtures, lights, blinds, ceiling fans, faucets, and a new fridge. Hooray! Between all that, and a recent trip to the Phoenix IKEA, we’ve pretty much got a brand new house.

Here’s what our apartment looked like two years ago, when we first moved to Tucson.

And here’s what it looks like now.

No, I did not tell Penny to lay in the picture. She always figures out how to best be in your way, then she plops down right there. Folding blankets; she tries to lay on them. Adjusting the rug; she stands right in front of your face. Speaking of adjusting the rug, just forget about how it doesn't quite lay flat in the picture. I pulled the ottoman over and apparently forgot to smooth out the wrinkle I created.

The couches are old news, I know. But the blue rug isn’t. And fancy that – matching end tables! Who knew they could bring me so much joy? We almost got a new coffee table, too, but I decided I wasn’t ready to part with old one yet. My mom got it the week I was born, and I’ve spent many-an-hour running in circles around that thing, flipping the sides up and down. As it is, we always leave them down, and I have no idea why you'd ever flip them up, but I like to have the option.

Among the other things we bought at IKEA:

WHAT?! Who knew you could buy these things?? The best part is that on the side of the carton, a caption explains, "Silently Traps and Kills Prey". Good thing, too, because that silly plant saying "Hello Lunch!" is pretty misleading.

We passed a huge display of this stuff while waiting in the checkout line. First we started out making fun of it (GLOGG) but a few minutes later, after casting many pining looks behind him, Jon requested that I “Go grab some glogg” for him. We haven’t tried it yet, but apparently it’s supposed to be served warm with nuts and raisins.

In conclusion, please tell me if this math adds up.

-------------------------------------

PS – I’m very grateful to Camcorder Buddy for the upgrades: HOWEVER :: He’s kind of an oddball. As in, he talked the entire time about how he’s the best person EVER at replacing towel racks and the like. (“I don’t even need the instructions.” Fifteen minutes later: “See that? That would have taken anyone else another hour.” Twenty minutes after that: “You know Harold? It takes him TWO DAYS to do what I’m doing here”). Also, there was an awkward moment when he and I were outside cleaning up the mess from the packaging on the new fridge. His dirty baby was crawling around in the gravel with crap all over his face, and this guy starts talking about how heavy the kid is, then to prove his point, he scooped the baby up out of the dirt and flung him at me. (“…OH...um…hi baby. Yep, he’s heavy…” [trying to hand it back..no luck…set it on the ground]). Does anyone else think this is weird? First time meeting this guy, and he forces me to hold his filthy baby? We’re definitely not at that point in our relationship.

PSS – Jon has been in town for FIVE CONSECUTIVE WEEKENDS!!!!

Claims to Fame

Possibly seeing Robin from the Real World in Banana Republic the other day got me to thinking about my other brushes with stardom. You probably won’t be impressed.

• I once saw a guy that looked kind of like M. Night Shyamalan at a Ralph’s grocery store in Anaheim on our honeymoon.

• I was once in the Forum Shops at Caesar’s Palace in Vegas when some old guy named Pete Rose was sitting in front of a sports store, signing autographs for people that purchased any item. Jon knew who he was, and so did about five other people in the general area.

• Some confused old lady in Pottery Barn once mistook me for Claire Danes. Okay, that was an exaggeration. It went like this:

Her: You look so much like Claire Danes! Are you her sister?!?

Me: I’m not, but I have been told before that I look like her…

Her: [gasps midsentence] Oh! Oh…I thought you were going to say that you ARE her!

Yes, I took that picture specifically for this purpose, and no, I don't want to talk about it.

I only see it at certain angles. This one does the trick. I’ll allow it.

Tangent: Before I moved to Las Vegas after high school, I’d never been compared to anyone famous, but once I was there I got a new one almost every day. The most ridiculous one I ever heard: “a white Halle Barry”. The most offensive one ever: Drew Barrymore. Drew Barrymore?!?!! Take it back.

End tangent and continuing with my Claims to Fame list:

• I was the drum major for the Pau-Wa-Lu Middle School marching band. Here’s a picture of me leading the band down Highway 395 in Carson City for the Nevada Days parade. We were too poor to afford a camera with a zoom, apparently.

Despite my obscenely huge feet, the band teacher told me that I was the best drum major they EVER HAD. In your faces!

• I met with and shook Elder Bednar’s hand the day he was set apart as an apostle. Jon didn’t think it was a big deal, because he’d met him a few times previously at BYU-I when he was the president of the school (Bednar…not Jon). But I thought it was cool. It was especially interesting because he and his wife were walking out of the Fashion Place mall when we bumped into them. On a Sunday. Right after being announced as an apostle. I like to think he was squeezing in some shopping after the general session of conference and before his next meeting.

• Peter Noon from Herman’s Hermits once autographed my shirt. Two of my friends and I went to a concert in Reno wearing matching wife beaters:

And got a little love from the lead singer. Warning: Scary/ugly picture of us coming up. ESPECIALLY of Peter Noon.

We stopped at a Krispy Kremes on our way back to Gardnerville to eat donuts and take stupid pictures.

Also, try saying Herman Hermits fast. I’ve been plagued my entire life to say “Herman Herbits” when I get too excited about it. And by “my entire life”, I mean the past six years or so, because the first time I’d ever heard about them was the night before the concert when we three got together to make our tank tops.

Anyway, last but not least on my list of brushes with stardom: I once passed Eugenia from America’s Next Top Model walking down the sidewalk in New York City last year.

And that’s it. The end. Pretty sad. Forget I even mentioned it.

Dear Vandals, You're Stupid, Kthxbai

A good part of my morning was spent on hold for the Tucson Police Department. When I finally got a hold of an officer, I was able to report that sometime between the hours of 7:00PM last night, and 7:30AM this morning, our office building was the victim of a drive-by shooting.





This is the second time since we moved into this building that we've been grateful they opted for the shatter-proof, double-paned windows. A few months ago, the newspaper delivery woman ran herself over with her car (at 3 in the morning), which somehow jumped the curb once she was positioned in front of it and mowed her over en route to hit the building. The glass didn't even crack. And she was fine. Okay she wasn't fine. Her leg was broken and she had to drag herself to her car to call 911 on her cell phone. But it could have been worse.

Other things I did today: Made about ninety phone calls to the building owner and contractors, had a meeting with a very nice lady cop, and found a couple of LOLcats that I had squirreled away on my hard drive for a rainy day. You know you love them.