Ouch!

So usually I mostly write about my cute, angry Hoshie, only he isn’t the only angry child in my family. The other day I was watching my brother’s kids because every other responsible person on the planet was busy, you know, holidays and such. He has an adorable little five year old with an abnormally large head who, like Hoshie, has a bit of a temper (I don’t think the large head is the cause, but I could be wrong).

So I decide to play Star Wars with him because he enjoys showing off his light saber skills. We are in the middle of our duel and during one of his “spin flourishes” I tap him on the bum with my light saber (honestly it was only a tap, I don’t like to hurt people). Well you would have thought that I had just cracked him on his funny bone because the kid went ballistic and started wailing on me. It was horrible! I was screaming while he was hitting me as hard as he could. I finally got him to stop and I realized that from now on all activities with him would involve anything that could not be used as a weapon, so basically we can have staring contests until he learns to head-butt me with his eyes.

I keep doing this!

So I left my holiday shopping TO THE LAST MINUTE and since I love to shop online, my shizz may not come in time. CRAPOLA! I would shop the traditional way but crowds give me a rash. In my defense I've been very busy over-accesorizing with Squidgy. She and her Auntie Via love bling - lots and lots of bling. I have been know to rival Mr. T with my bling especially since my friend gave me a "Bedazzler." I would so bedazzle my pillow if it didn't mean that I would wake up with my head resembling a golf ball.

I guess all I can do for now is hope that stuff is getting rushed for the holidays and hand out a bunch of IOUs. Tacky, I know, but coming from a woman covered in head to toe rhinestones, it is probably expected.

Top Three Reasons Via is a Bad Aunt

1. Teaches that deserts are a fine substitute for actual meals that might involve veggies or some such nutritious garbage.
2. Teaches that one doesn't need paper to draw - a hand or face will do nicely in a pinch (preferably not your own).
3. Teaches fun words like butt, fart and democrat.

I will come up with more as I spend more time with my cute Squidgy.

Three Days to Go

I am soooooooooo excited! My cute Squidgy will be here in three days! In three days I can look forward to losing lots of sleep and lots of hair and perhaps even what is left of my sanity, but it is all worth it because she is the cutest little torture device on the planet!

His Reputation Precedes Him

So I went to dinner on Friday with an awesome couple who had the most well-behaved children ON THE FACE OF THE PLANET. The kids were totally polite and they even schooled me when I began to pick my teeth at the table with my friend’s credit card. I was so impressed that I grilled them all about their life hoping to figure out how one might create such amazing children (hopefully it is not all nature or I'm screwed).

In the process of grilling I discovered that the oldest child goes to the same school as Yert and is also in Yert’s grade. I immediately asked him if he knew Yert’s younger brother Hoshie and he nodded. I then asked if he had ever witnessed Hoshie’s incredible rage. A huge grin broke out over the boy’s face and he nodded. At which point I said, “I know! It’s awesome isn’t it?”

All My Pants Are Tight!

So lately I have been eating everything in sight and all my pants are tight, not just the skinny jeans which are supposed to be tight - ALL MY PANTS - even the ones I bought large so I would have room to expand. I should cut back on my food consumption but it's all I have people - that and a butt-load of books.

Makes Me Sad

So these are pictures of my elementary school that is being torn down. It was built in 1937 and I think it is beautiful and the thought of it lying in heaps of rubble breaks my heart.

Attack of the Human Drum Machine

So I need to catch you up on what happened the weekend I took Hosh and Yert to High School Musical 3 otherwise known as the weekend my eardrums burst into flames. Anyhoo, Hosh and Yert were super excited. Yert was excited to see Sharpay and Hosh was just excited to be released from anger management for the afternoon for good behavior.

The movie started out with the opening dance number which was upbeat and kept the boys' attention as well as causing a four year old behind us to shout "YAY!" EVERY TEN SECONDS DURING EVERY MUSICAL NUMBER! The whole damn movie is basically one big musical number! I was able to ignore this for the most part, but what I could not ignore, occurred about fifteen minutes into the movie, Hosh started pounding on his chest like he was a gorilla. The first time it happened I leaned over and politely asked him to stop because no one appreciated his human percussion. By the fifth time I was a tad frustrated and I told him that if he did not stop I would sell his Wii and use the money to pay for my eardrum reconstruction. He complied FOR ALL OF A SECOND and then he was back at it and I spent pretty much the whole rest of the movie trying to convince Hosh that it is so much funner to sit on one's hands, it makes them nice and toasty with the added bonus of smelling like butt.

Like Laverne and Shirley with more cheese

So my cute Hoshie and the adorable Yert have decided that they are going to live together which is all well and good considering they are family and therefore have to live together until they are of the age where it is not considered child abuse for my sister to kick them out. However they are not just going to live together while growing up or even during their poor college years when Hosh will only be able to afford processed cheese. No, they are going to live together UNTIL THEY DIE. That is their plan, even after they get married. 

Upon hearing this, I pointed out to my sister that perpetual cohabitation may be a deal breaker for most women. I know that if my sister had informed my brother-in-law that I would be coming home along with that unfortunate wedding gift of deodorant, their marriage would have been annulled before I started choking on their last slice of wedding cake. 

Yert and Hosh are convinced that this arrangement will work and will be beneficial to all parties involved. Yert's spouse will get used to the constant screams of "I'M SORRY!" whenever Hoshie gets called on leaving the seat up and the light on and the toilet unflushed. (Poor Hosh has yet to learn that "I'm sorry" only sounds sincere when it is not screamed at the top of your lungs.) Hosh's spouse will have to adjust to the fact that in the middle of the night, Hosh will disappear only to be found the next morning comfortably sandwiched between Yert and his spouse. Good times.

YES!

I am so happy. I know that in my immediate family, I am the only one celebrating. I hope that one day my family will realize what an asset Barack Obama is to this country.

Via's World! Party Time!

So I am attending my first real election party and I am stoked. I don't get invited to that many parties because I tend to get excited and choke on my food. Apparently having the chance to practice the heimlich is not some people's idea of fun. Go figure.

I am lucky enough to have found friends who are willing to overlook my inhaling and subsequent cough/spraying of the hummus, and invite me to their party. I am also lucky because these patient friends share my political views and we are all rooting for Obama. I am so excited to discuss politics with people who won't call me a Communist (I'm talking to you mom!) and understand what it is like voting Democrat in the reddest of the red states. Here's hoping we will have a reason to really celebrate! OBAMA for PRESIDENT!

Halloween Pic

Updates - YEAH!

So since I haven't posted in a bit I have some stuff to catch you up on. First off, pictures will be forthcoming of my Halloween costume. I was indeed a Jonas Brother, however, I was not the eldest, sweaty Jonas Brother. I had a major wardrobe malfunction with regards to making believable looking pit-stains and my wig was too small for my head and looked like a curly yamika. I ended up raiding my wig collection (yes I have a wig collection, I love dressing up) and I found a wig that would work for the middle Jonas - he of the giant eyebrows, so I went to work dressed as him. I found that unless people had adolescent children, they had no idea who I was and many thought I was Groucho Marx.

My costume was awesome, but I did not spend the whole day as a Jonas, that night I decided to attend a local screening of The Rocky Horror Picture Show dressed as Riff Raff. I spent weeks putting together my costume and I was extremely pleased with how it turned out, even though I had to use pantyhose to portray a receding hairline. I was excited to go because I had never seen the movie live but I always wanted to and I wasn't quite sure what to expect. Yeah - I was the only one dressed as Riff Raff and I had to GET ON STAGE AND DO THE TIME WARP! I was horrified, not only because I had not watched the movie since last Halloween and I didn't have the dance memorized, but because I am not the type of person who likes to perform in front of other people, I like to sit in the back and heckle. I was so AWFUL. I think I scarred some people for life. They will always remember how their 2008 Halloween was ruined by some chick with hose on her head. 

Meaty Thighs

So my meaty thighs will no longer fit in my skinny pants and now I am either going to have to stop inhaling Snickers bars or get my meaty thighs to a gym. This happens every year when my cold weather weight gain kicks in and suddenly my pants are tight. Usually not a big deal unless I am in corduroy. However, take pants that are already tight and yeah – I can’t get them past my knees! I need a treadmill or elliptical so I can keep up with the exercise I get in the summer when the weather is nice and I can go outside and run and skip in the sun until Hoshie jumps out from behind a rock and whacks me with a stick.

Speaking of Hoshie, I am taking him, Yert and my meaty thighs to the movies this weekend. It was Hoshie’s turn to pick and he picked High School Musical 3. Thanks Hosh! Apparently his hatred of all things non-videogame related does not extend to singing that makes your ears bleed. I should wear my skinny pants so that the pain of having my organs squished distracts me from the pain of my eardrums exploding.

Some advice for men

Guys, if you decide you want to talk to me, come up to me and say hi. Don't shout at me from your car while I am walking by myself through a parking lot. It scares the crap out of me. Nuff said.

So Long, Sweet Ghetto Bug!

So last week, I sold my sweet Ghetto Bug. It was time, but it was really hard and I cried, like a big giant baby. The Ghetto Bug and I had some awesome times - off-roading, going on canoe trips, that time I got lost in the suburbs - such good memories. It is true that the Ghetto Bug frustrated me at times, but she truly was a great car. She rarely broke down, most of her issues were cosmetic and for those I developed work-arounds. After all, who really needs all their radio buttons to work? I had to sell the Ghetto Bug for cheaper than I would have liked, but I figured the next person would probably want to fix the flaws I learned to live with and even brag about. It became this funny thing when I would give people rides and they would notice the duck tape and would say, "I can totally top that, check out the paper clip I use to roll up and down my window." Good times! So next time you are in a toasting mood, say an extra one for the Ghetto Bug, she has earned it.

That One!

So I'm watching the debate last night and it is the usual he did this and he did that and he chose a VP who shoots things from a helicopter, when suddenly something caught my attention. In the midst of all the finger-pointing, John McCain calls Barack Obama - "that one." I immediately get all excited because I know the next time someone asks who I am voting for, I can reply, "that one."

The next day I am trying my best to get someone to ask me who I am voting for (not an easy task given the state I live in will be red until Paris Hilton and three of her cronies usher in the apocalypse) when my boss suddenly walks up to me and hands me a small blue piece of paper with the Obama campaign symbol and the words "Thatone 08" printed on the front. I immediately break out the button maker and start making oodles of buttons so that I no longer have to wait for someone to ask me who I support, I can proudly support "that one" on my personage every day.

Same as my sister

Take the Quiz here!

Golimar!

I love this video so much and I get this song stuck in my head for days. Killa! Killa!

I am officially a renter people!

So I have joined the ranks of those who rent and I am EXTREMELY excited about it. Before you get too excited for me, I should confess that what I am renting is a storage shed and unfortunately the rules state very clearly that you are not allowed to live in the storage shed. My heart sank upon learning this but I also knew that I would get tired of peeing in a bucket. I will not get tired of knowing that I have a place where all the so called junk I love will have a safe home, away from the threats of my mother who finds stinky old chairs repugnant. She cannot see the potential, but I can. With some love and a strong dose of Fabreeze, those chairs will only mildly smell of old cheese and goat.

In addition to being able to store my stinky chairs, I will also be able to acquire more. YAY! I have hated having to turn down perfectly good rejects from my friends and random strangers who leave stuff on their lawns with signs that say "Free" and "Please take this, it smells like feet." That stuff can now go to my storage shed, until I fill that to capacity, but hopefully by then I can afford a nice apartment with lots of room and carpet stench that will overpower the smell coming from my stuff.