A year in review

My friend Sara is known to start sentences off with: "This is so not true but I am going to say it anyway." So, in honor of her, I say to my dear followers, this is so not true but I am going to say it anyway. Here you have, in my opinion, the top 10 movies of 2007. And by 2007, I mean that is when I actually saw it. I'm not Rain Man here, I don't remember the exact date of every movie I ever saw, so if a 2006'er slides in here... just let it go man.

10.The Holiday- Cutesie, cliche' romantic comedy, but every girl needs a little of that in her life now and again.

9. Stranger than Fiction-Weird but good.

8. Knocked Up-Any human being that has been through the "miracle" of pregnancy and labor and delivery has to include this in her top ten.

7. Shrek the Third- Not quite as funny as the first two but any movie my two-year old loves is good with me.

6. Pirates of the Caribbean: World’s End- Johnny Depp in makeup- enough said.

5. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phenix- HP will always make my top ten!

4. Inside Man- This film stars my boyfriend Clive Owen, and since I am a very supportive girlfriend it makes my top ten.

3. Sweeney Todd- Again with the Johnny Depp and the makeup

2. Little Miss Sunshine-This movie is hilarious on so many levels.

1. Borat- This movie is inappropriate (and therefore even more hilarious) on so many levels.

Now, you'd do well to remember that I spent all of 2007 either in class, preparing for class or thinking about ways to mame myself in order to avoid going to class. That translates as these are really the only ten movies I saw this year. So, before you go updating your Netflix queue with my picks of the year, be mindful that in reality, there are probably way better movies out there... i.e...The Bourne Ultimatum, Zodiac, 300, Michael Clayton, Hairspray, Gone Baby Gone, Atonement, Bridge to Terabithia, American Gangster, Juno, Wristcutters, Spider Man 3, Dan in Real Life, Bee Movie, Golden Compass, Air Guitar Nation, The Jane Austen Book Club, Rendition, Golden Compass, The Martian Child, Into the Wild, Enchanted, Alvin and the Chipmunks, Blood Diamond, The Departed, Fracture, The Good Shepherd, Ratatouille, I know who killed me, Transformers, Mr. Brooks, The Assassination of Jesse James.

Guilty pleasures

What is a guilty pleasure? That which you crave, that which completely satisfies you or has the capacity to alter your mood, but because the world has found a way to shame it, you indulge in it only behind closed doors. My grandma has Chuck Norris, I have Sex and the City. I can pop in a DVD of my 4 favorite Manhattanites and fall into a complete trance. All notions of the real world disappear and my biggest concern becomes will Carrie pick Aiden or Big, while visions of cotour, strappy heels and New York night life prance in my head.

Randy Travis-Ahh yes... the cringe heard round the blogosphere. Most Gen X'ers shiver at the thought of a twangy country star wearing a Bedazzled jacket. But sneak into my vehicle and there, nested in tray #1 of the 6-CD changer, is my Randy Travis worship mix. Nothing touches my spirit like the velvety smoothness of his voice singing gospel. Trays 2-6 may hold more popular fare such as Usher or Nora but in tray #1 lies my true love. He can be my Rhinestone Cowboy any day!

Sweating- Now, before you judge me too harshly and make me eat my bar of Secret for 30 minutes as punishment, let me clarify. Sweating in a business suit=bad. Sweating while your makeup slides off your face=bad. Sweating as a bridesmaid in a fruify cupcake of a dress in front of hundreds of people=bad. But, going for a run in workout clothes on a ridiculously hot, humid summer day, the kind of day where just thinking about venturing outside makes your Speed Stick kick in to overdrive, that is what it's all about. Sweating after a workout so grand that you can't sit down without leaving a butt-print, that is what I'm talking about! (OK, THAT is cause for the cringe heard round the blogosphere). But hey, I like to shower too people... don't judge me!

Chocolate chip cookie dough- While this seems like a no brainer, it does actually classify as a guilty pleasure because I've turned into a closet cookie dough eater. No one can just eat cookie dough openly anymore. Too many people are judging you- some fear of salmonella or E. coli or monkey pox, or whatever it is that it's supposed to cause. Well, until I am yakkin' up a small intestine I'll continue to indulge myself and get off my case about it!

Retail Therapy?????

Ok, see, after all of these years, I FINALLY get it. Retail therapy doesn't actually imply that people like to drive from store to store in sub zero temperatures looking for the last Wii on the planet. It doesn't actually mean that people enjoy standing in line for 23 minutes at Gordman's to check out, only to find out that the vase they have in their hand doesn't have a tag on it and the sweater they waited in line to try on for 7 "stuffy-could this be any worse-OMG should I tell that lady how bad those pants are-minutes" only to find out that it was unfortunately on the wrong rack and is NOT, as it turns out, 60% off. And, it doesn't mean that they actually enjoy enduring the agonizing time spent playing bumper carts at Walmart. I mean, have you ever honestly tried to navigate anywhere near electronics with a cart. You have the 14 year-old boys standing there in a daze playing the sample video games and then you have the adoring mother of three standing at the photo machines editing each of the 300 pictures of her little snookie wookums- and there are 6 more just like her waiting in line! It's insane! Move people, just MOVE! I'm coming through and at this point I don't care who I have to mow down to finish my shopping trip. Somewhere between frozen foods and housewares I almost hung myself with an Elf printed roll of ribbon (yes, I did borrow that particularly macabre form of self mutilation from my friend Jamie).

No, as it turns out, retail therapy is the extended time needed to spend with your shrink after participating in retail activities during the holiday season. So, if you haven't already meticulously sucked your candy canes to a very fine point and tried to locate your temporal artery, then just take this knowledge and find a sympathetic ear to bend people- preferably one who can prescribe some happy pills until the Walmart madness ends and we can all buy our toilet paper and Q-tips in peace. Happy Holidays! :)

They call me Domestic Goddess

I know the modern twenty-something is supposed to hate all things domestic, buy all food processed, canned or delivered, drive a hybrid and have a Crackberry Blackberry humming in their pocket all day long, but despite all the urges to be modern, I still love to throw on a good old fashioned apron and get my hands dirty.

I think one thing I love about baking is that you get to create something out of nothing. Well, technically it's not out of nothing, I mean, you do get to start with a huge lump of shortening, aka- lump O' fat. It's totally globby, gross, white, greasy, bulging and slick. Ewwwww. But then something miraculous happens. With a sprinkle of sugar, dab of flower, twice the recommended vanilla and a touch of love, you suddenly have something edible. It feels good, in a primitive, salt-of-the-earth, people have been doing this for hundreds of years, I feel like I should be wearing a dress and living on the prairie, kind of way. Well, as primitive as you can be with the help of my friend the GE Power Mixer.

But there are a few caveats you should know about my baking process.
1) I CANNOT seem to keep track of my ingredients. I mean, how many times can you honestly go to the store to buy brown sugar and not remember that you already have some at home? That's actually not a rhetorical question, the answer is four. Four times I can do that.
See Exhibit A: I've actually decided to start a brown sugar collection. So, Santa, if you are listening, I don't think I have a Hawaiian Light Cane yet. (Oh, and Santa, about that little incident in March...I can totally explain that)

2) Physics doesn't matter in baking. Normally in real life, 1 pound=1 pound, but not in baking. See, in baking, a recipe may call for 1/4 pound of butter, 1/4 lb of sugar, maybe 1/4 lb of flour and 1/4 lb of misc ingredients, and 3 dozen cookies later you have 1 pound worth of actual, physical baked goods. BUT, and here's the rub, if you actually eat all of those cookies, you will gain more than a pound. Again, not a rhetorical statement, if indeed you eat more than 3 cookies (like in the neighborhood of 7...I'm just throwing that number out there) you will actually gain 3.7 pounds- and that's just one weekend! C'mon Isaac Newton, it just doesn't add up! E=MC squared my ass. (My ever-expanding ass I might add).

3) The last rule of thumb you need to remember when baking is that you really should follow the directions. Somewhere, a long time ago, a bunch of old ladies got together and thought it would be really hilarious to make up the names for all of the ingredients, and apparently the 500,000 words in the English language just weren't enough because they made many of them very similar. They were surely conspiring against the future career women of the 21st century, who are lucky to ever even serve any baked good that doesn't begin in a Marie Calendar factory, let alone trying to keep their ingredients straight. I mean, baking soda, baking power, c'mon ladies! Why? They're both white and dusty- is there really a difference at all? Ok, we also have the milks: condensed milk, evaporated milk, coconut milk, regular milk, rice milk... I could go on. I guarantee there's not a working woman out there today that hasn't wondered what the difference is and tried to use them interchangeably. And don't get me started on butter: sweet cream salted, sweet cream unsalted, margarine, oleo, shortening- do they all mean the same thing? Who made these rules?

The bottom line this holiday season is either know the rules and follow them, or just give up and rely on Sara Lee. I mean, it's the 21st century, there's no reason to be embarrassed about the "heat and eat" variety. In your face Betty Crocker.

Don't judge me

OK, based on the comments my last post generated I feel the need to say, Don't Judge Me! Just admit it, we all have a nice dose of crazy in us! Just because I have a healthy awareness of my craziness does not make me any more crazy than anyone else. Yes, I happen to know my inner voice has a British accent and yes, I do occasionally have to fight overwhelming urges to be utterly inappropriate. But in the end, I think I am pretty normal. And if you don't agree, just take a little trip to the public transit in your city...

Fine, fine, here it is

We all do weird things (don’t we?) I’ll just come right out and tell you that I have some definite neuroses of my own. Let’s just get it on the table then you won’t be surprised if I am ever dining with you and I do something beyond embarrassing.

1) I have this obsession with flexing my muscles. Not “Schwartzegger-tan-oiled- manly- lady-in-a -bikini -with-the -creepy-abs”-flexing but just flexing them all of the time, regardless of what I am doing. It’s invisible to watch…well depending how close you are watching. Maybe you’ve noticed and just think I am a twitchy person. And there is a certain sequence I have to follow. For some reason this obsession has yet to lead to a six pack but I theorize that it will someday.

2). I have this outrageous urge to blurt out something horrible at the worst times. I honestly wonder in my head what the worst possible thing is that I could say and then it’s a battle with my mouth to not scream it! Maybe I have a controllable (thus far) version of turret's? I mean, honestly, what would happened if you just yelled, “Hey lady! Your baby’s head looks like a meatball and why would you ever think you should wear that in public?” I know, I know, it’s mean and crazy. I’m sorry.

3) Anytime I am driving, there is a little invisible person running along beside my car and they have to jump over every single fence post or telephone pole that we pass. Only, I have to flex my legs to make the invisible twerp jump. It’s a real workout when I am cruising 70 miles per hour let me tell you. I won’t even explain how hard I have to try to jump over silos.

4) There is almost always a voice talking in my head. Almost always. 90% of the time it has a British accent and it often says the same thing over and over and over again. If my eyes gloss over when I am talking to you, please don’t be offended- I’m just listening to Edward (the British man in my head). Oh and he starts almost every sentence with, “I’ve given it a lot of thought….” I think I’m passive/aggressive because Edward it awfully snarky. Damn Brit.

5) I sometimes wonder if my life is the Truman show and the whole world is in on it. But that seems awfully egocentric I know… so maybe just Iowa is in on it? I did think the people in Greece acted weird- maybe they’re not in on it?

6)By now you have probably stopped reading and decided to cut off all contact with me. That's fine, I get it. But Edward has a nasty side so you better watch your back.

New Marketing Ideas! Work with me here...

Let's try a new marketing spin on my beloved alma mater! Work with me here- I think we've got something special! If only I were Dean for a day.....





Top ten reasons to choose my college:

10) The dorm rooms may be teeny tiny. Your roommate may be a super freek that smells like pickles. You may crack your head on the ceiling when you sit up in bed each morning. But dang it, we have central air conditioning, lofted beds and wireless internet.... and that's something!

9) Most days the food is just so-so, but on a brighter note, that will help you postpone the "Freshman Fifteen!"

8) Classes are hard. You will fail a test. But when that happens, at least the tutoring is free.

7) 12 miles from Des Moines = internship = job =career =money =marital partner =marital bliss=downward spiral =ugly divorce =alimony =poorhouse. Wait, where was I going with that?

6) The football team may not be winning a national championship anytime soon... but that means you may actually get some playing time! THat's good right?

5) May Term. It's three weeks. You get credit for having fun. Enough said.

4) You can't skip class without the professor knowing it, so don't even try. Wait... that sucks. Scratch that.

3) You can walk to any class in less than 5 minutes. Really important when you sleep through your alarm after one of those nights. Those LONG nights that seem to follow college students everywhere!

2) We have a thriving Greek system. It's like Animal House but with some philanthropy work thrown in for good measure.

1) Bart...Homer...Maggie...Lisa... Ring any bells??????? Dude, that's awesome!

Snow Day!

Ahh, the words muttered round the world, on the dawn of a new day, even before the sun comes up .... Snow Day!!!

Snow Day- The words every kid loves to hear. Snow Day to a kid means wake up, eat breakfast, play in the snow, eat some lunch, play in the snow, drink some hot cocoa, play in the snow. You get the idea. In high school a snow day means something different. Sleep in, maybe eat some lunch if you can muster the energy to pop the frost bitten pizza roles into the microwave, then sleep some more. Sleep, sleep sleep.

For a grown up, what does snow day really mean? "Who the hell tracked muddy snow prints in again!" "How many times have I told you to wipe your feet?" "Who ate the last pizza role!"
You get the idea. All the snow...none of the fun.

If you're married you know all too well how this conversation goes:
Wife: Did you put the ice melt down?
Husband: Did you buy some ice melt?
Wife: Why would I buy the ice melt?
Husband: You were at the grocery store last night.
Wife: Yeah, buying food and diapers and the new Tango Doritos you wanted.
Husband: If you were there, why wouldn't you buy ice melt?
Wife: I didn't buy the damn ice melt. Fine I'll go get it.
Husband: That's stupid... it's too icy.

Now, this conversation may or may not have played out in this household yesterday, but it easily could have. I mean, shouldn't a snow day be great like a Norman Rockwell painting? Cuddle up, sip some cocoa, watch a good old fashioned family movie? Yeah, well apparently Norm never spent a day inside with a cranky 2-year old and no electricity. No pizza roles, no lights, no heat, no movies. The closest thing we did to cuddling was clinging together under 4 blankets to conserve the heat... in the dark.

Ahhh, snow day! I have to admit, 2 hours of playing with marbles and 3 hours of working on a puzzle...did I mention it was dark... probably did us some good. Now we can fully appreciate seeing Shrek for the 208th time with our daughter, knowing that it could be worse. :)

Well, well

Here we are. For the past 5 months I have been slacking on this blog. I had a work blog that I was also maintaining. But no longer! You can now expect, cynicism mixed with my razor sharp humor, to return. Well, whining and anecdotes, but whatever, you get the idea. Thanks for reading!