The Best Sin Of All

It was trivia night at church.  There must have been over 150 people.  The format was 10 subjects and 10 questions on each subject.  Of course they had the usual categories:  geography, sports, literature….  And since it is a catholic church there were questions about the catholic faith, lots of booze, and trying to bribe the priest and sisters on all the bible questions. 

The majority of us at the table were “cradle catholics”, so you would assume we would rock it…well…we scored 2/10 on the faith questions.  I have no idea how he knew this, but one of the guys knew the names of the three magi and how to spell them correctly.  Very impressive.  Without looking it up, do you know their names? 

The other one we got correct was the seven deadly sins.   For that one, we discussed all the murder scenes in the movie “7”, in detail.  We pounded out the first six, but couldn’t think of the last one.  My solo contribution to the entire game (100 questions) was the final sin.  I nailed it. 

What was it?

Where's The Ketchup

I’m sorry, but a French fry should NOT taste, in anyway, potato-ish.

There Really Is Only One Way

I always park in the second row when I pull into the parking lot of our grocery store.  Today there were no open spots.  I had to park down 4 more rows, which meant the closest door was on the left side of the building, not the normal right entrance that I always use.

You know what this means, right?  I was going backward through the store.  This really messes with your mind.  I’m not kidding.

I kept walking past the aisles that I needed to go down.  I was zig-zagging all over the place and I was getting super frustrated.  Finally, I got so fed up that I pushed all the way to the other end of the store so I could start from the correct door.  I even went out the door and came back in so that all was well with the world.  Who would start from the left anyway?  Obviously, the right entrance is the best!

One thing that I like to do when I walk through the grocery store is try to push my cart through all the narrow pathways.  I do this for two reasons:  #1 – to see if it will actually fit and #2 – to be totally impressed when it does fit.  Even when I smash the cart into the sides of the freezers and the poles it counts as still fitting.  I’m like a quality control tester. They should thank me and maybe put bumpers on the carts.

Clothing Optional

If you don’t take into consideration energy conservation or the utility bill, what temperature would you set the thermostat in your house during winter and summer?  Would they be the same for both seasons?  Also, do you have a different temperature for the day and the night?

The kids and Thomas have been complaining about it being cold in the house.  The other day Thomas took a look at the thermostat.

Thomas – “64 degrees?!?  Why is it only 64 degrees in this house?”

Me – “Obviously, because I’m hot.  If you’re cold you can put a sweater on.  I can only take off so many clothes.  Which reminds me, where are my clothes?  I’m starting to feel a little chill.”

I kid you not, I am often missing articles of clothing.  I can promise you one thing, the neighbor girl won’t come barging into the house unexpectedly again.  Lesson learned.

When you come to my home, you don’t ring the doorbell to let me know you have arrived, you ring the doorbell to let me know to put some clothes on, and I usually will. 

if I was going to be allowed to sit at the same table as my friends during church trivia night, I had to make a solemn vow to keep my shirt on.  I almost died, but I kept my promise.  You’re welcome, Becky and Laura.  You owe me a coke.

So, how hot/cold do you like it?

Someone Is Always Watching

It’s after midnight-thirty and I’m doing my nightly walk-thru before heading to bed.  I’m making sure the cats have food so they don’t wake up olivia by crawling all over her head; checking to see if the sliding glass door is locked with the stick in place; bringing glasses with liquids into the kitchen so the cats don’t dump them over; and checking that the garage doors are closed and the door between the house and the garage is locked.

All is in order.

I shut the final light off on the main floor and head upstairs.  I take a right at the first landing and lift my eyes.  Sitting cross-legged with her arms down to her sides, her crazy ass hair falling down around her naked body shielding the majority of her face, and her dull eyes looking at me is the 8 year old.

Me:  WTF???

Liv:  I can’t sleep.

Me:  Yah, well, I’ll probably never be able to sleep again.  You look like the creepy little girl out of every horror film and I need to go change my pants.

Are We There Yet?

How do you measure how long it will take to get from one place to another when driving in a vehicle?

Some people will use miles, “It’s about 6 miles down the road.”

Some people will use time, “It’ll take you about 10 minutes.”

I prefer to measure in time.  I am actually obsessed with this.  I need to know how long it takes to get anywhere I need to go, mostly because I need to make sure I have the kids in the car and out the door in order to be on time.

Whenever I leave somewhere I check out the clock to note the time and then drive to my destination.  When I check the time upon arrival I’m pissed because I’ve forgot my beginning time.  EVERY SINGLE TIME!!!!  This has been going on for years. 

I know, I know, get a piece of paper and a pen and write it down.

So that’s what I did yesterday.  You know what happened?  When I arrived at my destination I remembered, for the first time ever, my departure time.  That sucks. 

I really feel robbed. 

I had a problem, I thought of a solution, I used the solution, then I didn’t need the solution.

I'm No Ebert

First off, I apologize for how pathetic this is going to sound and for making some of you think poorly of me.  I am sorry.

Everybody has heard of Les Miserables.  I’ve heard it thrown around as a great novel and play, however, I did not know what the story was about. 

Thomas and I wanted to go to a movie this afternoon and I wanted to see Hansel and Gretyl beat up a bunch of witches, but, alas….  So I started looking into the other movies listed.  I had heard that Anne Hathaway was up for an Oscar for her performance in Les Miserables.  I like her, so that’s a possibility. 

I decided to do a little digging and see what Les Miserables was about.  Wow!  That is a great story!!!  Of course, Wikipedia is basically in outline form, but I’m thinking they could make this movie magical.  So my vote is for Les Mis.

We’re in the movie and the previews are rolling and Thomas leans over to me and asks, “You do know that this is a musical, right?”.

“Excuse me?  What?  I know that Anne Hathaway sings, but….”

“Yah, it’s a musical.  Good luck!”

Does he mean musical like “Grease” (loved this), “Sound of Music” (loved this), or “West Side Story” (loved this) where there is a lot of talking highlighted with music or does he mean “Dream Girls” musical?  Those girls NEVER stopped singing.

Well…..I believe the actors in Les Miserables were probably fined large amounts of money if they uttered a sound that wasn’t in tune.  

My goal was to make it through Anne’s singing, which I did, and it was beautiful, and I can see why she is up for an Academy Award.  She was brilliant!!!

But then my mind began to wander and the seat got uncomfortable and my popcorn was gone and I wanted to put my feet up on the chair in front of me, which I know is a no-no, and then there was nobody behind me so I pulled out my phone to check messages, ringer off, of course, finally I leaned forward and put my head in my hands.

Thomas:  “Sooo, are you enjoying the movie?”

AND THEN HE ABOUT PEES HIMSELF DYING LAUGHING!!!!!

Me:  “Yah, it’s great.  How much longer?”

Thomas:  “About 2 hours.”

So here’s the deal.  When Thomas and I go out on Saturday afternoon we kiss the girls, tell them we love them, and then tell them to get to cleaning the house b/c they don’t know when we’ll be back.  It could be short, it could be long.  At no point are we to get a phone call that involves anything less than my sister has cut off her arm, some strange person is in the house, the house is on fire, we’re talking a real emergency here, not she walked through my pile of dirt.

At this point I’m praying for an earthquake.  I look down at my phone and it’s blinking.  I’ve missed a call (b/c the ringer was off).  It’s the home number.  Thank you, God, but please let everyone have both arms.  I turn to Thomas and tell him it must be important so I have to take it in the lobby.  He just smiles.  Off I run to the lobby to save the day for my children. 

Apparently, we forgot to drop off the cake for the cake walk tonight at the Winter Carnival at church.  YES!!!!!!  Emergency enough for me!!!!!   I race back in tell Thomas I’ll be back to get him and run out the door.

The girls were so upset they had ruined “date day” by calling about the cake and I told them they had saved me from two hours of griping to myself about how this movie could have been only 1 hour and 30 minutes or less, if they would have just “said” their lines.  Everything else the same, background, actors, everything, just spit it out!

When I picked Thomas up after the movie I asked him if he liked it.  He said he did, especially after I left. 

All that matters is that I got to eat all the popcorn before I left and I got to see Anne Hathaway sing. 

I truly believe there should be some sort of notification when the movie is a musical.  I know they can’t use “M” because it stands for “Mature”, but maybe an “*” that lets you know this movie is going to take way longer than it really should because every single word will be in tune.

I think I’m going to read the book.