The Most Fun a Married Couple Can Have

Mack is obsessed with bugs. When we were dating there was a bush outside of his apartment that was full of praying mantids and these little red beetle bugs. Mack would study them during his smoke breaks and do experiments to see how they would respond to hot cigarettes. I brushed past this bush dozens of times and never gave the insect world a second look until he pointed out how weird and dynamic it all was. Then every time we went outside we'd stand, huddled over a 2-inch section of bush, staring at seemingly nothing, waiting for the praying mantis to nab her a little booty bug snack (the red bugs became known as booty bugs because they would shake their butts really fast in response to the hot cigarettes... we may just be scientists). 

I've never been really hateful of or too keen on bugs. Whatever. Mosquitos devour me, flies irritate me, worms make me feel so guilty when they're all laid out on the formerly wet sidewalk drying to death, and spiders I think are amazing from a healthy distance. Anything that can pull a house out of its ass is amazing. I didn't actively go looking for spiders ever, but if I found one in the corner I'd usually let it hang out for as long as it wanted to. Some may think that's dirty, but I rationalize that a spider in the corner is keeping the other bugs under control, thus making my house cleaner.

When we previously lived on an alley, the only bugs we saw were dust bugs. Massive mounds of dirt scooting into the corners and accumulating no matter how much sweeping or mopping or door sealing you did. Now that we live in a place with half a yard, Mack has been able to reconnect with the bug world, at least a little bit.

The other day as I left to take the dog on her morning walk, Mack was outside with his new best friend. I present, the Jerusalem Cricket of Mass Proportions.

This steroidal bug was an interesting break from our normal routine of eggs and soysage followed by a stroll that always ends in handling poop. He captured it, wikipediaed it, packaged it, I photographed it in disbelief, and he took it to his dad's to release it in the wild of the Park La Brea condo complex courtyard. 

A few days later, at our neighborhood 99 cent store, which is amazing because it has 4-packs of thick glass glasses for 99 cents and terrifying because it also has holiday candy dishes with warnings that the paint on them contains lead for 99 cents, I walked into a display of venus fly traps. I thought it might be a pretty rare find since I'd never actually seen a venus fly trap in real life... not counting Venus when she tries to catch flies by biting them. Then I thought, hey, it's only 99 cents, why not buy two? I am a very deep, complex thinker, especially when posed with the question of how much to buy at the 99 cent store.

I knew Mack would love the fly trap, so of course as soon as he opened it we had to go on a bug hunt. The trouble is, California doesn't have bugs really, aside from mutant Jerusalem crickets. We had to really look in some nooks and crannies, but eventually we came up with a spider and dropped it onto the fly trap. And, in true fly trap fashion, it closed its mouth on the spider. 

The most amazing thing in nature that I've ever seen. A predatory plant. A carnivorous plant. Basically the universe as I know it changed in that moment. And I wanted to feed it again.

Well, it takes a while for the fly trap to excrete all its plant stomach juices to digest the bug, so you can't feed it every day. But you can feed it the day after every day. Which is what we did, but not before being caught snooping around cracks in the carport, flashlight in hand and no obvious reason for our behavior, by our neighbor while we looked for the plant snack. This time I videotaped the whole meal to blow your mind too.

This is where we're getting ready to feed the plant.

This is where the plant shows the bug who's boss.

This fly trap has been the most fun that's come into our house since the addition of the big, flat, shiny, new TV. And it was 199,900 cents cheaper. 

Ambora's Box

My mom, in her doting role of Gigi, sends out monthly photo emails which make all of us wayward wanderers miss home and all the fun those dopes are having. Well, today she selflessly sent out the latest from Thanksgiving and her 3 days babysitting Ben. Of course when I saw this, I got a craving for cheeks and UK sports.

Then upon closer inspection, I realized that was the TV in the background. And since I have a chronic craving for TV, I peered deep into my computer screen to read the fine print. And because TV has a tendency to reveal more vivid truths than I can resist, I discovered some very subliminal messaging that made my conscience breathe a sigh of relief. 

Proud Sister

Not sure if any of you will believe this since she's been MIA in blogland a lot this year, but Leiah has posted a very special announcement over on Ahh Life.

Congratulations Leiah. I'm very proud of you and happy for you. And my teeth, they're glad to know you.

News from LA

A high def TV has revolutionized the way we see our local news anchors since we can now see their armpit wrinkles. But the other day, during the 11 o'clock news, I actually thought our weather girl was a character from the SIMS video game. And it freaked me out.
And speaking of other news oddities, this little interweb irony is courtesy of our KABC anchor.

Dulywed: Year 1

Dear Mack,

You finally left to help your Mom & Dad with their Craigslist posts so I finally have a chance to ponder our first legal year of marriage in the peace and quiet of a dog chewing itself and a cat crunching dry morsels of food.

I didn't know it at the time, but our plan to get married over Thanksgiving weekend was sheer genius. Most of my genius moves happen accidentally, but having this whole weekend to realize our relationship is one of the smartest things I've done. We've been able to spend the last three days together, like 100% together, and, much to my surprise, I haven't wanted to scream, "Shut up and die!!" even once. We are healthier than I thought.

It's been a challenging year for us. I've been jealous of you going to school while I work a lot of times, and because I am only human and new to this whole selfless wife partnership supportive thing, I've probably been ruthless about it more than once. I just want you to know that more than I feel jealous, I feel so grateful to you for working so hard to make our lives better. I know that I won't remember this frustration once we get the life we're working toward, and I hope you don't remember it either. I'm sorry for all the times I've yelled at you about money (and all the times I will), and I'm sorry for all the times I've made you feel like you aren't doing enough. I know that this is about give and take, and the only reason I'm having trouble with the giving is because for a long time I was the taker... because you were so generous and supportive of me in my dreams. You are better than me at insecurity, especially financial insecurity, but I'm trying to learn how to stop insecurity from getting in the way of doing what you want. I've only been challenged to learn this in my first year of marriage to you, so thanks for your patience as I, a notorious control freak, learn to embrace uncertainty. I'm proud to be helping you be the man you want to be, and I hope that in Year 2 we win the lottery.

I can't believe that this whole entire year we've only uttered the words "divorce" and "leave" 5 times. I thought it would be a lot more than that, to be honest. I know I've said both, probably because they seem nicer than "die" and "rot," especially in the heat of the moment, but in all honesty, I never want you to leave. Never, ever, ever. Being with you the last three days has proven that to me. Without work, without school, without worries about money, when it's just me and you and being alive, we are impossibly happy. You are the funniest person I've ever met. You are a thrill to talk to. You are adorable to look at. You are smart and sharp and hopeless. You are the man of my dreams, and even though I want to stab the parts of your brain that have the parts that make me scream at you, overall you are perfect. If you were any nicer, you'd be miserable. If you were any meaner, I'd be miserable. We are dangerously and miraculously balanced.

The thing I've really discovered in this first year with you is that for the first time in my entire life I can be 100% who I am around you. If I feel sad or angry or ecstatic or curious or contrary, I can share it with you and trust you with it. I have a lot of relationships with a lot of people, but no one gets the extent of me that you do (which is probably why I am able to maintain those relationships with them). I can't imagine being in a relationship where you have to maintain facades or ideals, and with you, I can just be myself -- in all its beauty and shame and glory and fear and nervousness. You have no idea how precious a gift this is for you to give me, and I hope that I offer something similar to you. Considering I know the smells you are capable of, I think I do.

The walks on the beach, not saying anything; the time spent laying on the couch so close that I can't tell where my skin ends and yours begins; the constant hum of noise that is you living; the laughs that are so deep they make me drool on myself; the kitchen dances; the spicy fruit cups; the unexpected Internet news bits; the wait-it-out tactic to see who heats up the bed first. I try to imagine what my life would be like if you weren't in it and the thought is so terrible and so foreign, I want to die.

It may seem cryptic, but I think that's a good indicator of a successful first year. I love you more than me. Happy anniversary.

Something to Be Thankful for

... that I didn't catch what this guy did.

There's always something to be grateful for, eh?

Dealing with Monsters

Another Wild & Crazy Friday Night

I don't know if it's because I'm older or because I'm broke, but for whatever reason, a pie-making marathon seemed like the funnest Friday idea ever, especially when it could double as a "birthday gift" for Mack. So exciting an idea, mind you, that I actually planned for it since Wednesday and spent my lunch break today walking to multiple grocery stores to get all the necessary supplies -- including organic shortening that is hydrogenated oil free! Thrilling barely begins to describe it.

I've just plopped pie number 3 in the oven -- a delicacy I'm calling "Midnight Blueberry" -- and when I came out of my "pastry zone," which can be no doubt equated with the zone that athletes speak of, I looked up and realized my glasses were filthy. Smudgy. Pitiful.

Naturally I took them off, wiped them on my shirt -- which is proper glasses maintenance, FYI -- and realized that the problem wasn't my glasses... it was the smokey pie haze that had accumulated in the air courtesy of that one Saturday when the pizza decided to dump its toppings in the bottom of the oven. Isn't DiGiorno the sweetest?

So, now my Friday has really amped up... from pie making to floor mopping to... wait for it... sitting on the stoop writing a blog post about pie making!!! I'm thinking I may just pull out the Annie Dilliard Reader and really get this party started with a book my mom recommends and a bottle of red wine. Because I can.

Somebody's Grandma's Apple Pie
Pumpkin Marble Cheesecakeish
Midnight Blueberry
(yes, I cut all of those moons and stars by hand)

I am a woman. leader. seriously.

I spent last weekend in Boston at Babson College's Women's Leadership Conference being an expert. For those of you who know me, no, I wasn't an expert in smart ass comebacks. I was an expert in social networking. Don't be jealous.

What's crazy about the whole thing is that my dad actually had a FaceBook account long before I did. Like looooonnnnnggg before me.

It was an awesome conference for all the knowledge that was available, but what I really took from it was positive female energy. It's so different to be around women. I work in an office with 8 men and 1 woman, not including me. In my office we do a lot of work and a lot of projects, and we keep on trucking and get more work done. We don't really take stock of what we've done or how far we've come because we're too busy to. But after being around some other women for a day, I realized just how high you can get off of being around people who celebrate. Everything from a new job to a spoken sentence. Women love to applaud. We love to laugh. We love to smile. We love to feel good. And we devour anything that gives us a reason to do those things. While I love, love, love the men in my life (including those I work with), I get spiritually energized from the women in and around it. The men make me stronger, but the women make me sweeter. I've been getting enough strength, so it was good to get a hearty does of sugar and spice this fall.

If you'd like to relish in my brilliance, I've compiled my luscious Power Point -- yes, I am an expert in Power Point too -- into a beautiful film I like to call "Beyond YouTube."

Hello Ladies...

Because Mack is so cool, he introduces me to some of the coolest people in the world. And when I say cool, I mean freaks of nature oddities.

He's frequently sent me bits of hilarity courtesy of the www in our time together, but lucky for him, I forget a lot and he can use the same jokes over and over. A few yeas ago he brought the Asian Prince into my life, and I had completely removed him from my memory until a couple days ago. When Mack sent me a paper to do on Chicana lesbians for his philosophy class. And offered a photo of the Asian Prince as a thank you gift.
I forgot how much I love reading about the Asian Prince. Perhaps no one will get as much glee from looking at his website as Leigh, but he is hilarious. I'm just sad to report that he now has found a sexy princess, and I, like Mayim Bialik (formerly known as Blossom on "Blossom"), am out of the running. In honor of his celebration, I wanted to do a post in his style. I present an abbreviated, personalized edition of an Asian Prince post...

[Note: I started this post about three weeks ago, but then I ran into bloggerrefusaltoacceptphotos problem, which completely zapped me of momentum.]

A Wife in Search of a Second Wife/Highly Respected and Appreciated Slave

Hi ladies, my name is Amber. Welcome to my blog. I am searching for a wife. The picture on the left is me. Aren't I very nice? I am a wife and I've been married many times to the same guy. If you're looking for someone who needs help doing the dishes and tending to the animals, I'm the one you're looking for!

I love to write. It's where I get the money to purchase my groceries.

Like my writing? You can send me money through paypal! Try amberscott@insightbb.com!

Since I am considered by many, a genius, I know how to write in different languages. Living so close to Mexico, I've self taught myself Spanish. I've been called a writing genius by my mom for both my writing style and talent. I am also called a marketing genius because I organized a pub crawl once.

I am a woman who is smart, funny, romantic, charming, compassionate, talented, sexy, and has an excellent sense of style. Am I not hot?

I'd like to introduce you to my wild side. Welcome to my crazy wife life section.

This section tells about moments when my inner crazy wife kicked in. Sometimes, I like to live life dangerously. I once added the entire packet of cayenne pepper to the chili mix. And if that doesn't show you how out of control I can be, I also run out to the car sometimes in my bare feet. I am not afraid of germs or dirt since they are so afraid of me.

Some second wives are attracted to crazy first wives. I can be one at times. They will find me irresistable after viewing this section.

I think I look like a delicious nag in this picture. This is a picture of me early in my relationship.

As you can see, I have been sexy all my life. I think I should have a reality show, don't you? Do you want to be my second wife/maid/cook/stylist on my famous show?

My Achy Breaky Fun-o-meter

It's official. I can't fall for that forced fun anymore. I'm just not so good at pretending now that I've been paired with a man who has no reservations when it comes to saying, "This sucks and is stupid," even as I'm trying to push rays of sunshine out of my eyes with all the focusing on the positive I'm doing.

Labor Day weekend is when my fun-o-meter had its first significant calibration. After packing a crafty lunch and a cooler of beer, loaded down with good intentions for spending one of my four paid holidays a year with friends, Mack and I spent two hours crawling 30 miles through traffic to go to a beach that was halfway covered with a tarp. Anytime Mack and I spend two hours cramped in 10 square feet of space, our love erupts into molten hot lava and we leave each other blistered and dark. Anytime we spend two hours cramped in 10 square feet of space and arrive at a tarp covered beach when we could have walked seven blocks and arrived at an enormous expanse of open beach, well, he wants to kill me and I can't pretend it's fun anymore.

Last night, my fun-o-meter was squashed to smithereens. Halloween is my favorite holiday of the year, and last Halloween, me, Mack and Ruble went to Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Studios. It took two hours to get there (did I mention it's about 20 miles away?), but we were able to park quickly and get in in a reasonable amount of time. My fun-o-meter was sort of in limbo as to whether it would be fun, but when I turned to look at Ruble and saw the face of Norman Bates' mother between us and went screaming down the studio street, my fun-o-meter soared to new heights. Halloween Horror Nights had redeemed itself.

Since last year ended up being more fun than work, I thought this year we'd try the Knott's Scary Farm (at Knott's Berry Farm) Halloween event. With my smile strapped to my face and a ukulele strapped to Mack to keep him from realizing how long it was taking us to get there, we headed out on yet another two hour journey to go 30 miles.

When we finally arrived, the fun-o-meter was teetering. We pulled into the parking lot and pulled through the parking lot and pulled out of the parking lot and pulled onto the street in front of Knott's Berry Farm and pulled onto a street five blocks from Knott's Berry Farm and pulled back into the traffic to get into Knott's Berry Farm and pulled into the parking lot and pulled through the parking lot and pulled out of the parking lot and pulled to the other street bordering Knott's Berry Farm and pulled around the block and pulled past ten full parking lots and pulled our hair out and pulled back onto the interstate for a 45 minute trip back home.

No more will I go to an event that requires 2 hours to go 30 miles. No more will I bother with anything that is going to attract more than 5,000 people (unless it's a sporting event, an outdoor event, or something that has public transportation that will drop me off in front). No more am I going to kid myself that I don't mind crowds and that spending 80% of my time in lines is worth riding a roller coaster in the dark. The fun-o-meter will no longer fall for fake fun.

Trust Me: You Do Not Want to Read This

You have been warned. If you scroll any further, it is at your own discretion. If you have a big browser window, it's probably too late. I hope you weren't eating.

So Mack calls me at work as he's walking into the door of our house after school, at about 4:30. We're all on the phone, howsyourdaying it, when all of the sudden he says, "Oh no. Shiiiiiiit."

Apparently he'd stepped in a couple piles of it that Venus had left on the rug in the kitchen, which is brownish, so it's no wonder a detail-blind Mack didn't notice it before he stomped it into the sole of his Gap flip flops. Which were like $40.

"I've gotta go," he says.

"Aw, shucks, I'm so sorry I can't be there right now to clean up this mess. I'm just so swamped at my insanely busy job looking at these interesting carpet tiles that apparently clean up with a baby wipe doing research to take this kind of responsibility for my dog," I said, sort of. It probably came out like, "Sucks to be you."

A few minutes later, I see him on Google chat and decide to lighten up the brown, muddy situation. I'll let Google chat fill you in on this part.

me: stop eating the poop, mister.

4:35 PM Mack: im about to man-cry

kitty keeps trying to show me the poop

me: no man crying! that is too sad.

4:36 PM tell kitty to shut the fuck up or we're putting her in a meat grinder!

Mack: wood-chipper honey wood-chipper

check your Gee-mailme: i want to put her in a meat grinder. and make kitty tacos.

4:37 PM i'm checking it. heart the titles.

[Enjoy this snapshot of aforementioned titles.]

Mack: i just searched for "painless way to poison a dog"

me: streaky poop kind of looks like bacon

[Enjoy this snapshot of streaky poop. I added roses to try to make it

prettier.]

4:38 PM it looks like she should be dying with poop like that.

i puked in my throat a little.

Mack: they are big... notice my sandals to indicate the scale

[Enjoy this snapshot of the poop with sandal for scale. Again, the butterflies are an attempt to make this situation more delightful.]

me: nice work honey. you must be a poop scientist.
[This is actually very funny because once Mack was being confronted by the neighbor about some poop in the yard and he said, "How do you know it's my dog's poop? Are you a poop scientist?"]

4:39 PM Mack: i want to eat something but it smells so bad in there i could puke

me: ugh. i can't get the slime out of my mind and it makes me want to barf.

Mack: this life sucks

the slime on wet poop is nastier in real life than it looks on camera - the smell greatly enhances its nastiness

[Enjoy this snapshot of wet poop. Hopefully the rainbows make it superdeeduperfied.]

4:40 PM me: what is up with you and dogs pooping while you're gone and you having to clean it up?

[The day after Shannon's wedding another dog left a ribbon of barf and shit all throughout our house, and Mack was the only one in town to deal with it. He still smiles about that to this day. And he loves Shannon's Aunt Tiffany 4-ever.]

Mack: i'm going to put the dog and cat into the bath and throw your hair straightener into the water

if the lights go dark at zizo you know why

me: no!!!! that straightener is more than $100!!!

4:41 PM Mack: then i will find a cheaper appliance to use

me: the air pop popcorn maker was like $15. But I really like it.

4:42 PM Mack: am i a bad person for wanting to kill them?

me: am i? Mack: did you know that "Die dog, die!" means "The dog, the!" in German?

4:47 PM

Mack: YES KITTY I KNOW THERE IS POOP OVER THERE

4:51 PM

we could mail venus to your friend dave without him knowing

FedEX WILL DELIVER PETS

And so begins Venus' reunion with the long, lost love of her life... Dave. If I can just get Lisa to sign for the package...

Our Tangled Web Tree

Shannon posted on her blog a knitting project she just completed. It's basically a fabric bucket for toys, but the colors are pretty and it's bigger than all the knitting projects I've done combined. The "Shannon forced to model even though she's not feeling like it" pose on her blog is hilarious, and it actually reminded me of another knitting project she did that she modeled before washing it and shrinking it. So, because I can't get enough of Shannon, I wanted to share something from my collection of "Shannon forced to model even when she doesn't feel like it."

A Q&A with SPAM

Dear Josephine Z. Griggs,
I've been getting a ton of email from your company lately, and I assume you keep contacting me because you're desperate for a response. I appreciate very much you bringing your product to my attention and for reaching out to me so frequently each day. I hope that by answering all of your questions in this forum, you will see that, while I'm sure your offer will change many lives, I do not have a need for it at this time. I'm also good on my Cialis supply, so you can quit sending me those notices as well.

Tired of being ashamed of your penis size?
-- No, not really. In fact, I've never in my life felt ashamed of my penis size.

Does your penis size ruin your life?
-- I think if it was any bigger it would, but in its current state, no it doesn't. Gosh, thanks for asking.

Have you ever heard this, "No way! Your penis is so small!"?
-- I doubt any person ever has. I know I've never said it, and I can't imagine any woman I know ever saying it.

Didn't you feel like a loser?
-- Because even after 10 pancakes I still couldn't get the hang of how to flip them? Yes. Because my penis isn't visible to the naked eye? No.

Don't let ladies prefer vibrator to you!
-- Vibrators can't give foot rubs, so men will always have a place.

Megadik will bring you to your sexual dreams! You must believe in this excellent preparation!
-- If Megadik is the answer to my sexual dreams, I am entirely devoid of any imagination. And I won't believe in "this excellent preparation" because that just sounds too weird to believe.

"Wow! Your penis is impressive!" Isn't that what you just love to hear?
-- I would freak out if someone said that to me. Especially if it came from my husband.

Soon you'll be the only one they will desire!
-- Goody. When? Will I have to dress up?

Megadik is your magic weapon!
-- And here I was thinking it was my guacamole recipe.

No more lonely nights! The new era of big penis begins!
-- It gets it own era?!! Then it should come with a museum, a board of directors and a slate of investors.

NOTHING compares to the feeling of having a larger penis.
-- I'm thinking the feeling of eating a good dessert probably comes close.

New size for Men especially for new feelings of women at once!
-- So much simultaneous newness.

You can increase the time of your sexual act.
-- Fine, as long as it doesn't run into prime time.

For every men of different ages unique decision!
-- Poor men. I *heart* my privates.

Hope that clears up any confusion. Thanks for taking me off your list, and good luck with your massive endeavor!
Love,
Amber

The Endorsement Series (Part 8 in a Series)

I've got big boobs and I cannot lie
My own Mother can't deny
That when I walk in wearing my work shirt
with buttons on alert
they're almost sprung, wanna pop right off
'Cause the shirt shrunk in the wash
Crammed in the top I'm wearing
Too poor to do repairing
But ladies, I found the answer
Privacy Strips for all non-dancers
I found them on the web
So with the boobs I got I'm not a schleb.

That's my endorsement rap for Privacy Strips. Top boob is known as cleavage, but accidental middle boob with bra is known as shirt is too tight in that spot, even though it wasn't when you tried it on in the dressing room. With your other bra. Before you got your period and they swelled to grandmotherly proportions. Now the shirt you bought can fit you "there" as well as everywhere else. And you don't even have to pay a tailor. Just press this little double sized, get-the-job-done tape between buttons and seal your shirt shut. I did this at 8 am. I showed it off to a lady friend at work. It was still holding strong at 7 pm. It could have gone all night, but 7 pm is when I put on my pajamas so...

Ten strips are, brace yourself, $2.99 for 10. If you buy five packs you don't have to pay shipping for the others. Most of my nice work shirts (read: shirts I paid $49.50 or more for) have this mysterious bulge in the bosom, and I've actually given up on some and thrown them away. If only I knew about Privacy Strips then.

THINGS I LEARNED AT THE CREATION MUSEUM

1. There is an entire race of people who still wear bonnets. They are cute and seem very young. And they make me want homemade butter.

2. Adam is responsible for all the evil in the world, not Eve, like I thought. So it should be called Adamil, not Evil.

3. When Adam and Eve were in the Garden of Eden, they were totally comfortable being naked, but Eve's boobs were conveniently always covered up by her long, billowy hair.

4. As for their privates, those were conveniently always covered by lush gardens. Unless they were in water, in which case Adam and Eve didn't have legs or privates.

5. Before Adam's big screw up, kids played with dinosaurs like they play with dogs today. Even though the dinosaurs had big teeth suited for eating kids, they only used those big teeth to eat grass. It seems they were considered "cuddly."

6. It's not funny when men with scraggly beards whisper, "It's gonna gitcha," in your ear when you're staring at an automated dinosaur. Not. Funny.

7. God loves variety. Variety that billions of years of changing topography and atmosphere couldn't accomplish, but variety that six days of hard work and one day of rest could.

8. Humans use reason. God uses words. That makes sense.

9. Satan assumed the form of a snake that went on to get a lead role in "Snakes on a Plane." Maybe you've heard of the species "pretend," which boasts horns where its ears would go if it had ears.

10. If you're scared, either of the Devil or of Jesus coming back, a lot of locks will keep you safe.

11. After Adam ruined the world, poison went into poison arrow frogs (before that they didn't have poison in them), dinosaurs started using their teeth to eat flesh, and weeds started to grow, which basically turned everything to crap.

12. When the Modern World abandoned the Bible there was a horrible outbreak of... graffiti artists!

13. Adam and Eve had to skin animals and leave them on a rock to get a loving God to forgive them for eating that fruit when they were first going out.

14. You don't learn this kind of stuff in school. Probably because it's not part of God's plan.

15. A huge boat held two of each animal on the earth, even though there was already venom in the animals and dinosaurs had become aggressive. All the animals were very orderly and lined up in twos to board. They were also very happy in their little cubbies before, during and a little after the flood. The captain of the boat, Noah, was sometimes white and sometimes Indian, which goes back to that point about God liking variety.

16. All the extra animals that didn't go on the boat, including people, were buried in a layer of mud when the flood came. That's how we got fossils.

17. Thou shalt not... touch!

Rain?! In Los Angeles?!!

Apparently, it does happen. While the sun shines. And for barely long enough for me to get my camera and take a picture of this unusual atmospheric phenomenon. Before it dries.

My Old Kentucky Home

I just got home from 9 days of lovelies bliss. I spent time with so many people I love I ended up feeling more homesick than I felt before my vacation. It went by way too fast, but here are a few snippets of the whirlwind love tornado express.

Here's the main reason I went home.
Ben was turning ONE YEAR OLD, and since he's so cute they should turn him into candy and sprinkle him on cupcakes, his Auntie Am and Uncle Mack had to go 2000 miles to watch him hit this milestone.

Since little BAM BAM usually comes attached to one of my other lovelies, I also got to see them. And they are so cute they should be turned into red glittery paper and made into Valentines.It just so happened that Jen was also leading a Light the Night team for a walk to raise money for leukemia/lymphoma research while I was home. I only got to spend time near her while we wandered through the streets of downtown Lexington, and mostly I spent that time admiring her from afar. I'm glad I got to be there to support her, and I'm even more glad that I didn't have to wear an "In Memory" shirt with her name on it thanks to all the money raised for research. Donate here.

We went to Rincon to drink margaritas, and Mack and Ben had one too many... laughs! They were cracking each other up. Ben loved pointing at Mack's teeth and then cracking up like I've never heard him crack up. I feel like a hero when I get him to smile by stealing his binkie (a joke I learned from his mom), so I was floored (and impressed) that Mack was able to get him to cackle.


We also got to see lovelies Ruble & Steve and Beth, who I haven't seen in almost a year. The food sucked, but the company was the best helping of good times I've had in a long time. Delicious people with delicious faces and delicious personalities make up for bad fajitas any day. And, then, it was our last day... the big event day... Ben's birthday. He was so good. He had a little nap before his UK party got started, which is good because the UK vs. U of L game that was on after his party was exhausting (for you losers who missed the game, the final two minutes were some of the best in UK football ever... like the LSU game a few years ago only without the devastating ending). He got lots of presents, including a great laptop from his AA and UM and an interesting insect book from his Dude. I also like the "I listen to Led Zeppelin with my Dad" t-shirt and his Dude socks that he got. He's a lucky little boy. And I'm a lucky little aunt/daughter/friend/sister.

Warming the House

Because they are the best, most generous parents in the world, my mom and dad hooked us up with a housewarming gift of our choice. Since we recently upgraded our television to ridiculous proportions and moved to a place that actually allowed for a coffee table, we were left sans tv stand until they came to our rescue. Because they are awesome. Here's a little Before & After since you are obviously DYING for a visual manifestation of how parents make life better.
BEFORE, when it seemed like a fine idea for the DVR to dangle dangerously on the edge
AFTER, when we have actual spare space for more crap

Bad Things Happen in Threes

1. Venus starts peeing blood because I happened to have an as yet unallocated $300, which won't even begin to actually treat her.

2. Mack dislocates his foot during judo practice because there's no time like a couple weeks before vacation to get on crutches.

3. Communication breakdown with wedding coordinator creates question as to time of wedding and a bit of panic.

Today I wanted to punch life in the face.

Wedding Bellz

I knew Will was a catch for Kristin long before Mack discovered them making out in the backyard four years ago. I had the sense that he was just a downright good guy, an easy going, smooth smoothy the first time I met him, but my gut feelings were confirmed during one ski trip when members of Hot Tub Talk voted him Best Boyfriend. I think it's only fair that Will is Best Boyfriend since Kristin is easily Sweetest, Funnest, Prettiest, Most Entertaining Girlfriend Ever.

Well, this weekend one of my favorite duos became the Slatontons. And this will go down in my elephantine memory as one of the best weddings ever. Everything from the little fans for the ladies to the food was courtesy of Kristin's admirable attention to detail. And apparently I like to dance a lot more than I ever thought I did, making sandwiches out of everyone from Julio to my toddler lover Conner. I usually hate to dance, so if a wedding gets me out there to cut a rug for more than one song, things are going better than anyone expected. At this wedding I was out there the ENTIRE NIGHT, spinning Sarah in circles, grabbing Ryan's necktie and even starting a train! I don't start trains. I don't even really know how to start trains.

I can't detail it as well as the photos, so here we go.
























I had a blast with everyone I spent time with, especially Sarah, Ruble, Steve, Jen, Mike and even Kristin. Most importantly, I had a great time meeting Will's family, seeing one of my best friends start down the path to happily ever after, and finally, after almost a decade, meeting Granny Stapleton.