Archive for July, 2009

I’m confessing I don’t know how to spell nubby (or gnubby or knubby or bnubby or jnubby) I just don’t know.  I barely knew how to spell werewolf.  I left out the e. 

In 6th grade I came in third place in a spelling bee behind two 8th graders.  The word I got out on? Vulture. It’s a tough word, although for the life of me I can not think of how I could possibly misspell that word.  I’m sure it was just nerves.

And it really has nothing to do with what I want to say.

Last night my friend Lauren and I were talking about things we were made fun of for both recently and in the past.  Considering I had two older brothers who were relentless in making fun of me and a couple of recessive genes passed on to me (thanks mom and dad!) I was teased unmercifully.  At least now that I’m older people don’t do it to my face, but we all know how it goes when you’re a kid.  Kids have no filters. None. Zip.  They let you know what’s wrong with you.

From about the time I was in kindergarten up until probably junior or senior year of high school I was made fun of for having hairy arms.  Now there’s hairy arms and there’s what I had–HAIRY ARMS.  Obviously my brothers made fun of me for it but they eventually grew tired of it and found more creative ways to get me.  They moved on to making fun of my nubby toes. (Seriously I don’t think I have a joint in my toes they’re so small)  But not kids at school.  It would be werewolf or gorilla or “why are her arms so hairy?” It hurt.  It hurt everytime I would hear someone whisper something about it. 

But you know what? I’m a grown-up now.  I’ve learned that a Venus razor is my best friend.  And everyone from the past can suck it.

Speaking of hairy women…

I’m not sure what Sadie said to Lexi–but whatever it was, was not kind.




Anything you all were made fun of for that you care to share? Just to make me feel better about myself obviously!

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That’s Tiger Woods’ caddy for those of you who didn’t know.  Which I didn’t know either but Google did and that’s what’s important.

But I digress…

A couple of nights ago my husband thought it would be fun to go to the driving range.  That does sound like my idea of fun–if fun means humiliation.  My husband and my father are both great golfers but I am not.  I was a mediocre softball player and surprisingly that doesn’t translate to golf.

I overthink it.  For some reason everytime I swing a golf club it ends up swinging like a softball bat.  It’s bad. Real bad.

He first tells me it’s fine to wear sweatpants and a t-shirt as he’s putting on nice shorts and a polo shirt.  Then I ask him if tennis shoes are fine and he says yes as he’s picking up his golf shoes.  I have to use his clubs because I don’t hit enough to have my own.  Well I’m about 5 foot 1 and his clubs are about 5 feet in length (or so it seemed). So I was basically choking up to the club head to take a shot.

I decided to hit next to a little boy who was maybe five.  I thought he’d make me look good. Nope. He was better than me.  MUCH better than me. I almost leaned over to ask for some advice but I thought his dad might think I was a wackjob.  

I should have asked him for his clubs.  They were probably about right for my height.  I quit after about ten balls because I felt like all of those middle-aged men were judging me.  So instead I just gave golf advice to me husband.

He did not listen.

Story of my life.



Along with my husband, these two don’t listen either.

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Not to disappoint you but this has nothing to do with the movie Wall-E.  I have never seen and do not intend to see it until I have a 3 year old saying, “I wanna see Wall-E again…NOW!”

This does have to do with a wall.  An accent wall.

We have lived in our house for two years now and pretty much have done absolutely nothing to it.  The house is riddled with art from college/living at home.  And it has absolutely no rhyme or reason to it.  If there was a nail hanging in the wall from the previous owners then we just threw a picture up on it.  Same with the paint.  Same wall colors, same base boards, same everything. 

Well I was tired of it.  I was inspired by Colorsplash to do an accent wall in our bedroom.  After explaining the concept over and over to my husband (His initial response, “Well, if we’re painting that wall why don’t we just paint the whole room?”) he finally agreed to it. 

Here’s the before:


That wording is way too small but that is NOT a panther outside our window.  I didn’t want you to be alarmed.  But that is a man-doing work.  Is there anything better looking than that? 


Another view…we do have a lovely piece of art that does hang over the bed which you’ll see in the after pics.

Are you ready?  Are you sure you’re ready for this jelly?  I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly…

Ok, I’m wrong. You are in fact ready.


Ta-da!  I pretty much did nothing but watch my husband paint and hang the blinds.  And to be honest I wasn’t even watching him…I was in the living room watching more HGTV.  Don’t judge too harshly–we still need a new rug, new art, new lamps and new nightstands.  If you want to donate to the cause I accept cash or check.  I won’t even go into the details of sleeping in the living room and having to run away from a giant locust in our house.  It’s just too embarrassing to even speak of.  

I think I had just told Lexi that she’s going on a diet.  She no comprende…


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Say hello to my new best friend…


The Bagworm. 

They are something out of a horror movie.  I’m pretty sure this is one thing God cursed to this earth the minute Adam and Eve bit into that apple.

“Oh how was that apple? Because now that you ate it I’m sending worms that will destroy everything in their sight and possibly ruin your life.”

That was God speaking by the way–not a direct quote, I’m paraphrasing here. 

Look at what they have done to my tree!


UGH–it’s so depressing to even look at it!  Over the course of two days I spent about 6 hours picking off the little sacks that contained the worms.  I probably picked a good two or three THOUSAND.  And it hardly put a dent into the population.   

I would like to insert here that my husband, I love him dearly, would not come within 10 feet of these because they grossed him out.  I was secretly hoping one would attach itself to his leg and make a little bag out of his leg hair.  That would show him!  Although he didn’t pick them he would shovel them into our fire bowl and burn them.  So in a way I played the judge and he was the executioner.


You may have to enlarge that but there are hundreds of wiggly bagworms under the tree.  I felt like aliens had invaded my backyard.  You would think it was the wind moving them around but no, OH NO, it was them moving around inside the bag.  And they literally attach themselves to anything to stay alive–including blades of grass, gardening gloves and sweatpants.

We’ve sprayed the tree and now it’s just a dead tree with dead bagworms hanging from it. 

Luckily we haven’t found any hanging from these two…



I’m sure you can tell in the background of this picture but maybe it’s not the bagworms fault totally.  Look how dead those plants are in the background!

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My husband and I finally broke down and took Lexi into the vet last Saturday because her constant biting and licking and scratching were driving him and I crazy.  I’m sure it was beyond the point of insanity for her, but she’s a dog.  I’m sure I’ve waxed poetic about the times we’ve taken our sweet dogs to the vet and how perfectly behaved they are. 

Well, this time was no different. IMG_3614

As usual, if there is ANY dog within the vicinity of the check-in desk we have to keep either of our dogs away until it is either our turn or the other dogs leave.  Now, I’m sure it’s the other dogs sending off negative energy that get our dogs upset not the fact that Lexi and Sadie are psychotic. 

We get Lexi on the scale and she is 80 pounds!  We were so happy that she’d lost five pounds!  But our bubble burst pretty quickly when not only the vet, but the nurse told us she needed to lose weight.  Her confidence was shot.  And we actually got a chuckle when the vet said she needed to be in the 50-55 pound weight range.  Ha! What a joke. 


Next the nurse went to take her temperature–and we all now how that goes.  But instead of getting a startled, deer-in-the-headlights look she just sat down.  On the thermometer.  Poor nurse.  She said, “Oh, we’ll have to tie a string to that next time we do this so we don’t lose it up there!”

Her dignity is stripped at this point.

They take her back to get some skin tests done and she comes back into the room.  Then I notice she had poop hanging from her hiney.  So I had to chase her around the room just to wipe her butt.  There goes MY dignity.  I can see her future, she’s going to be a 10 year old dog wearing a diaper. 


At this point she was so ready to go when they gave her the cortisone shot she didn’t even notice.

Sadie pouted at home thinking she was missing out on the adventure of her life!


There’s really no point to this post but I thought of the title this morning and couldn’t stop singing it (Be-be-be Benny and the Jets!) so it had be used!

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So, let’s see…has it been a month since I last wrote?  What has come over me? 

Oh, that’s right–my mind seemed to have stopped the ability to write coherent sentences that made sense and that people would actually want to read.

My life has been so boring snoring lately that it’s not even worth wasting people’s time with!  It hasn’t helped that I’ve been more than overly grumpy that the weather has cracked 100+ the last month and the fact that my fat dog Lexi has allergies that wake me up at 5:00am everyday! (not anymore–thank you Benadryl!!)

I do have one story to share and it’s going to go from sad/gross to random in the matter of seconds…

Last Friday I was driving to work and I saw pretty much the equivalent of this:


on the road.  (If you can’t tell that’s supposed to represent a dead kitten) Now, I’m not a cat person but still, it’s pretty depressing when you see that driving to work which in and of itself is depressing.  So I go on about my day and as I’m driving home from work at about noon–ok, so I only worked a half day that day–the kitten had flipped sides of the road and was, hmm how do I put this, in a few more pieces than he was when I left him. 

Out of the corner of my eye I notice something.  There’s something over in the tree.  I had to turn around and figure out what it was.  I stare at it for a moment and I figured out what it was—


Yes, I thought I saw a TURKEY.  But, wait…why would a turkey be in my neighborhood, standing right under a tree right next to a kitten carcass.  So I looked a little closer…


It wasn’t a turkey…


(not actual one I saw–I was too big of a wuss to get out of my car)


He was patiently waiting for all of the cars to pass so he could finish his meal.  I think I almost lost my meal at that moment.  Poor little kitty…

You know these are the kinds of stories I’m going to want to cherish and pass down to my kids.  If you want to borrow for a bedtime story be my guest.


I should have sent my pups after him.  That would have shown him!


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