Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Carly's Making Me Look Bad By Writing Fancy Birthday Posts to My Husband

Yesterday was Neil's birthday. It's hard to plan a really good birthday for someone when you'll be traveling that day. So Neil, I apologize that you didn't have a cake, or a steak, and that I gave you some Tater Mitts that don't work and wrote you a song I sang off key.

I have to say we did do a lot of fun things on our trip though. We made a list on the back of the airplane barf bag of the things we want to do in our life. Neil wants to write a book and travel to Turkey. I want to ride a bike somewhere cool and milk a cow.

And by "ride a bike somewhere cool and milk a cow" I don't mean ride a bike to somewhere cool and when I get there milk a cow, but ride a bike AROUND/ON/IN somewhere cool--i.e. ON Abbey Road but not TO Abbey Road (that would be against my exercising policy)--and also milk a cow at some point in my life, somewhere cool or not cool, I don't care.

We also bought a framed tile that says "Neil's Kitchen" and stood in line for a photo-op with a Budweiser Clydesdale. Unfortunately, certain parts of the Clydesdale were too exposed for us to get a decent (literally) picture.

So if you haven't been to San Diego, you really should go. And take me with you, but not on your birthday--unless you are happy with mediocre celebrations like some understanding husbands who I won't name specifically.

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Labor Day Weekend by the Numbers

# of times I said "I wish we had our camera so we could blog this" as the Oscar Meyer weiner truck pulled into church ahead of us on Sunday: 1

# of peeps from my ward who blogged pictures of it in the parking lot: 2

# of times ate out: 5 (California Pizza Kitchen, Popeye's, Toto's Pizza, McDonald's, Subway)

# of episodes of Oprah watched on TiVo: 4

# of times said "I hate Oprah so much": 37

# of times felt guilty for dragging Neil to a 1940's-film-noir-style rendition of Macbeth we saw at a theater in the woods: 7

# of jars of homemade raspberry jam Neil canned: 9 while I took naps: 2

# of dreams that came true: 2 (mine of cutting Neil's hair and Neil's of buying a rug doctor)

# of 70-year-old men who stopped Neil in Target to ask where he buys his clothes: 1

Friday, August 24, 2007

Rock the Vote: WWYRK?

Sadly, my last poll drew so few votes that I actually know who each vote belonged to.

Heineken: Neil, Carly, Erika.

Corona: me, Alice.

I know it was about beer...but IT WAS A JOKE, PEOPLE! I was sad to have my (pretend) choice of beer lose to Neil's (pretend) choice. But I guess it's all about image and preference.









But I'm not giving up just because you didn't vote before. I've just decided to introduce my new and ongoing Who Would You Rather Kiss polls since they have been so popular in the past.

So don't let me down--Vote Early.Vote Often.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Terms of Endearment (or Neil wants me to call him Steed)

There's a road you go down in a relationship and once you get to a certain point, it's hard to go back. Early on Neil started using terms of endearment, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it no matter how hard I tried. And I was really worried about it because I thought he wanted me to. I couldn't even bring myself to refer to him as my boyfriend in his presence. I talked to everyone about my concern. I spent a lot of time looking for ideas on the internet. I even asked advice from my mom who told me I was "just going to have to do it."

Once while visiting Carly, she asked if I had just called Neil "Dear" and remarked on how cute and/or sweet it was and I had to let her down by telling her that no, I'd said Dude. "Dude" was my term of endearment for Neil until we were married and then it became "Husband" and now just "Husb" with an occasional "Mufasa" thrown in.

I don't know what my problem is. Why is it so hard? Maybe it's because I can't recall hearing a lot of terms of endearment used when I was growing up except on TV or by girlfriends who called each other "Hon"--and that's just not something I can get behind/pull off. No offense if that's you (Carrie), but I never did it and I don't think I ever could. However, I believe I mentioned to a friend (Hoss, was this you? I can't remember, but please see comment below re: my memory) that I hated when girls posed for those up close pictures with their cheeks smashed together---and then it wasn't too long before some photos of me in that exact same pose turned up, shattering my outspoken aversion to the cheek-touching-photo. So perhaps I've called you "Hon" and I just don't remember it. I have been told more than once that my "memory is a$$."

So please have some sympathy for Neil and give me some advice on how I can turn my ship around. Thanks in advance.

Sunday, August 05, 2007

Cowboy Up

This is our family motto, as of yesterday. Neil was thinking we needed one after pondering Carly's post re: "Pauls Don't Quit." I'm not sure if Carly was being serious or not about their motto. But that's okay because I don't know if we were either. I'll have to check with Neil on that.

I mean it is a good motto. But I would like to say I had nothing to do with coming up with it. It is totally unrelated to my watching 8 Seconds with my Freshman roommates about 50 times. Nor does it have anything to do with the fact that at the end of that year, I did a choreographed dance--part of which was a scene taken from the wedding in 8 Seconds-- in front of my ward with 3 of my roommates, one of whom thought she could "live the 8 Seconds dream," another who decorated her half of our room with all things Mickey Mouse, and lastly, the roommate we called "Ratgirl" behind her back.

I've really come a long way since then. I would never dream of doing such an immature thing now. My current daydreams consist of doing surprise lip sync performances at a ward talent show. I'm usually lip syncing the lead to "I Hear a Symphony" with friends doing back up, and we are all in our sequined Supremes-style dresses. It's either that or "Never Say Die" by the Dixie Chicks. Usually I'm lip syncing but sometimes I'm really singing because in my daydreams I have a much better singing voice than in real life. And usually I haven't told Neil that I'm going to be performing and he looks up at me with love (because of course I am singing to him) and pride and shock at what an awes voice I have.

I mean I wouldn't really do something like that. It's just my standby daydream. And it's way better than really doing the 8 Seconds wedding dance in front of 300 Freshmen.

Friday, August 03, 2007

"Marcy's Comeback" - Take 7

I'm not going to try and catch you up on of what's been going on since my last post 192 days ago, because it would probably be nothing but long and lackluster. It's enough to say that in the last 6 months, I flew across the country for John Wayne's 100th birthday celebration, rolled 3 Yahtzees, and made a tablecloth that was too small for our table, while Neil purchased 4 handy adders, 3 timers, and beat me in all 3 rounds of Dance Dance Revolution at the movie theater arcade.

I mention the Yahtzee thing because I am really into Yahtzee now. Probably because I have the best chance of beating Neil at a game that involves chance. But that's what I get for marrying such a smarty. And he's always really nice about winning...at least since my "Don't be a butt!" tantrum of 2006.

Do you like my new template? I thought if I gave my blog a haircut, so to speak, it might breathe new life into my blogivation. Well, it's time for me to head to lunch where I will eat my sandwich (which better not be mortadella) and my peach, and call my grandmother for my weekly update on Paris Hilton and CourtTV.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Shame on Me

Neil was nice enough to make me a tracking chart for my New Year's Resolutions so I can check them off when I do them. We're over 3 weeks into January and I still have zero checkmarks on my chart.

I recently sat in my living room floor and pounded down half a pizza, 1.5 donuts, and a Big Gulp of coke. Later I found some donut glaze down my shirt.

I'm considering joining Curves and when I went in tonight for a consultation the lady wrote down the side of my profile paper: Not exercising at all. "Not" and "at all" both underlined 3x.

I refuse to throw away a Krispy Kreme buy one dozen donuts, get one dozen free coupon even though are only 2 of us.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Pizza! Pizza!

I really want a pizza. I've already secured the address of the closest Little Caesars to my house so I can stop on my way home from work. I haven't had a pizza from Little Caesars in about 15 years and I'm curious whether I'll be disappointed or pleasantly surprised. And will they really only charge me $5? Even in San Francisco? I'm going to find out tonight, my friends.

There is a delish little pizza joint here called Toto's. Yum, my mouth is watering just thinking about it. And if Neil were going to be home for dinner tonight, I might say something like, "Do you think we'll go to Toto's for dinner?" which he has learned means "I want Toto's for dinner." It only took him a year to figure out how I operate. The light bulb came on for him last weekend in Mexico when I repeatedly said, "Do you think we'll go kayaking today?" or "I wonder if we'll go kayaking today."

Anyway, Toto's is too delicious and too expensive for me to rationalize getting alone. I mean, pizza is just not that good reheated so you need to be able to eat the entire pizza in one sitting--plus I like to eat at the restaurant. So tonight, Little Caesars it is.

I know this is a boring post, but I'm trying to get back in the swing of things and not put so much pressure on myself to write only really good posts so much so that I never write anything which is what is happening now. Then every post is like, "Glad you're back!" but of course, I'm not really back. I've been thinking a lot about blogging and eating pizza lately. And I want to keep doing both. So just work with me here.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

You Never Know What You're Gonna Get



So far I have only eaten 19 of the 75 dark chocolate covered cherries that Neil gave me for Christmas. Good thing I haven’t gotten around to making my annual weight loss resolution yet. One of Neil’s resolutions is to go on a walk everyday. Last year he also had the same plan for us. We went twice. This year I can tell he is serious because he has excluded the main obstacle from keeping any exercise resolution: me.

Our holidays were non-stop fun. On New Year’s Eve we ate some steaks and watched videos. We decided we would watch 2 movies and we would each get to pick out whatever he/she wanted regardless of whether or not the other person would like it--then we would watch both. We met up in the checkout line and headed home to watch Little Man and The Devil Wears Prada.

Are you surprised that Neil, who is reading a 1,000 page bio of LBJ and wears cashmere sweaters, wanted to get Little Man? Well, maybe you wouldn't be if you knew of his love for dance movies....but only movies where street dance meets classical dance i.e. Take the Lead or Save the Last Dance. But in the end, Neil chose Little Man (the loaded with extra crap edition) over the new dance release Step Up.

Other highlights of the season included seeing It’s a Wonderful Life and The Wizard of Oz on the big screen, the Nutcracker, prime rib for Christmas dinner and of course, opening awesome presents like an iPod nano and my new swimsuit designed by Esther Williams:



And I thought it was cute that Neil wrapped everything he put in my stocking--even the package of mini travel garbage bags and the roll of quarters. I was less original and just threw the When in Rome CD in his stocking uncovered.

In conclusion, Christmas was fun and Beauty and the Geek starts tonight.