That ONE Thing

Do you ever have something on your shopping list that you forget repeatedly?

I hit Walmart, Walgreens or Target at least twice a week. Usually more.

There is no excuse for the fact that we are completely out of toothpaste.

We have squeezed every bit out of our full-sized tubes. and two travel sized tubes.

Yet somehow it just doesn't occur to me to pick some up at the store one of the zillions of times I am running in for milk, or yarn, or something else not nearly as important as dental hygiene.

Will somebody please remind me to get some toothpaste this weekend? I have a lot of shopping to do, but you know I'm going to forget.

GAP

I just had a text message exchange with Lauren.

It went like this:

Erin: How are you?

Lauren: Good. How are you?

E: Bored out of my effing mind.

L: You should talk to J. She spends every day pretending to work.

E: Every single day, Lauren.

L: It's cool. I organized panties today.

Point taken.

Rad New Blog

For some reason, I forgot to mention to everybody that Jodi has started a blog!
Check it out--it's really very good. : )
Welcome to blogworld, Jodi!!
Love you!
p.s. Isn't this a cool photo?
p.p.s. Jodi and I are due within two days of each other!

Things I am NOT

I'm getting a little frustrated with my current occupation today.
This has led me to make a list of things that I am not:
1. fast moving about something I don't care about.
2. hard-hearted.
3. much of a listener.
4. a mind reader.
5. good at reading between the lines.
6. a helper.
7. a uni-tasker (see #3).
8. a rule follower.
9. an organizer.
10. a freaking school nurse (buy your own ibuprophen, people).
11. good at adjusting my own bad attitudes.
12. a plain old secretary.
13. stupid.

Things that I am:
1. still fine.
2. struggling not to curse a LOT in this post, but I know that Sheri reads it and I don't want her to know that I want to say the F-word, plus Kelli totally made fun of me last time I used it.


Today marks 35 WORK days to go until my due date.

35 days, 35 days, 35 days...

A New Approach

Dear Same Particular Co-Worker,
I have a new idea.
I'm going to call you by the wrong name from now on to see if you get the idea that we are not friends.
Sincerely,
Erin
p.s. I'm still fine. Really!

Silent No More

On this day in 1973, Roe v Wade was passed, making abortion legal in the United States.

On Saturday morning I had the privilege and profound joy of going to listen to Carla give her testimony with Silent No More Minnesota at the State Capital in St. Paul. I was stunned to learn many statistics about abortion, all of which led me to some very important realizations:
Women DO regret their abortions.
Women ARE hurt emotionally and physically by abortion.
Men DO regret abortions.
Men ARE hurt emotionally by abortion.

I will join Carla today in praying that hearts and minds will be changed about abortion. I will also continue to pray for Carla as she honors God by reaching out in love with her story and without judgement to both pregnant and post-abortive women.

Dear Future Erin,

Where were you today when I was eating cheese popcorn in my white shirt?
You really let me down on that one.
Sincerely,
Present Erin

p.s. We. Are. In. A. Fight.

Dear Past Erin,

You're not going to believe this, but Brett Favre is going to throw infinity interceptions during the playoff game against the Giants, including one in OverTime that will lead to their immediate loss.

Richard will take this very hard.

In fact, when you tell him this loss makes you feel like your cat died, he will tell you that would have been easier to handle.

Don't take it personally. He doesn't mean it.

Sincerely,

Future Erin

p.s. He TOTALLY means it.

Hello Moto-Miracle

All day yesterday, I couldn't send any messages or make any phone calls from my cell phone.
By 5pm as I was walking into the unbelievably crowded T-Mobile store, I was fed. up.
I told the girl, "I am fed. up. with my phone! It won't work!" I described to her the trouble I was having and as I unzipped my coat (to prove it) said, "I am eight months pregnant! I have to have a phone that works!"
"Oh, man," she said. "That's not good. Can you even call your voicemail?"
"No," I said."
"Oh, that's very bad."
Great, I thought. I'm gonna have to buy a new phone. What a pain. I'm going to be here for hours.
Then she took my phone apart, took out the SIM card, put it in a little gadget, and gave me a new card.
I have no idea what she did, but my phone works great.
I was out of there FOR FREE in under 15 minutes.
It's a Moto-Miracle.

Why or What?

I dreamt two nights ago that one of my co-workers asked me either, "Why are you a Christian, Erin?" or "What kind of a Christian are you, Erin?"
I couldn't remember which question she asked as soon as I woke up.
Either way, it troubled me.
Oswald Chambers asks, "Has there been a point in your life which you now mark as your last day? Is there a place in your life to which you go back in memory with humility and overwhelming gratitude, so that you can honestly proclaim, 'Yes, it was then, at my 'white funeral,’ that I made an agreement with God.'"
My last day came in 1998. I had given my life to Christ in our basement on Vine Street at the age of five, and I earnestly believe that I was filled with the Holy Spirit at that time. I do not believe that I began the path to sanctification until 1998, one day in my bedroom in Alabama. The details are not important, but it happened. *Upon further thought, that's a silly thing to say. Of course, I was on the path to sanctification. I don't think I understood its importance until that day in Alabama.
Shortly thereafter, God proved his love to me by opening my eyes (literally) to a spiritual realm beyond my comprehension...and protecting me from it.
Chambers goes on to write,

When we talk about the call of God, we often forget the most important thing, namely, the nature of Him who calls [...] The call is the expression of the nature of the One who calls, and we can only recognize the call if that same nature is in us. The call of God is the expression of God’s nature, not ours. God providentially weaves the threads of His call through our lives, and only we can distinguish them. It is the threading of God’s voice directly to us over a certain concern, and it is useless to seek another person’s opinion of it.
[...]
The call of God is not a reflection of my nature; my personal desires and temperament are of no consideration. As long as I dwell on my own qualities and traits and think about what I am suited for, I will never hear the call of God. [...] The majority of us cannot hear anything but ourselves. And we cannot hear anything God says. But to be brought to the place where we can hear the call of God is to be profoundly changed.

I can see where God has woven the threads of His call through my life from the age of five, to seventeen, to my marriage at 23, and into the growth He has insisted upon in the last eight months as I prepare for my baby.
Over the past year, I've been continually asking..."Who am I in Christ?"
The bottom line? If you ask, God will answer you. It hurts, and it sucks, and it's intensely emotional, but it seems to be satisfying, comforting and RIGHT...I think. I'll let you know.

I know why the caged bird sings.

Dear One Particular Co-Worker,
This note is going to be very forward, because so far subtleties have escaped you.
You have grown overly troublesome.
In fact, so troublesome that I'm not sure you're worth the...trouble.
I am about to start being mean to you.
Yesterday you visited my desk SEVEN times. Today, it's only been four, but I'm pretty sure that when you came to my desk to stretch your back (remember when you leaned on my cube and literally stretched?) and I looked at you like you were a complete fool, you got the idea that four times is enough.
Let's just cut to the chase: perhaps you could just come by once a day. Or even better, how about you only come by if you absolutely need something, which, by my record has not been since November.
In response to future conversation topics:
-It's cool that your baby needed a diaper change last night.
-No, there is nothing that I need from your baby stuff.
-Yes, it looks pretty cold outside.
-My pregnancy is still going just fine. It hasn't changed much since this morning. Or yesterday, for that matter.
-I'm glad you printed something.
-No thanks, I already have lunch plans--forever.
-No, you cannot have my cell phone number. It is not a work phone number.
I feel that at this point I should let you know that I have changed my regular route from the door to my desk so as to avoid anything completely stupid that you might say to me as I pass by. The extra steps are worth it.
I appreciate that you have never touched me, really. If you should happen to feel the need, my husband will have something to say to you, as will Swamp-Man.
Please back off, dude.
I don't know what gave you the impression that I liked you. Honestly, I can't remember doing anything that would make you think I wanted to talk.
Lest you should think this letter is tongue-in-cheek, I would like to return your attention to the top of this letter and remind you that subtleties have failed. Don't fool yourself. I'm not bantering.
Sincerely,
Erin

p.s. The next time you tease me about being pregnant, I retort, and then you say, "Ohhh, don't mess with the pregnant girl!" I will not be held responsible for my actions. Consider yourself warned.
p.p.s I borderline hate you.
p.p.p.s. Only borderline because it's wrong to hate.

True Story

For Christmas, Lauren gave Grandma Shirley a pair of house boots, similar to the ones shown here (I found this photo on ebay).

She was wearing them around the house when Gram (almost 102 years old) said to her, "With every step you take, I can see your balls swinging."

-----

*I'm pretty sure she'd kill me if she knew I'd published this, but some things are just too perfect.

Always the Groomsman

This weekend, Richard got asked to be in another wedding. He and I laughed as we tried to count the number of weddings he's been in. We couldn't count them all.
I can think of eight weddings off the top of my head and he has two more coming up in April. Needless to say, Rich has the groomsman thing down pat, and can even give one heck of a Best Man's Toast. He also throws a pretty great bachelor party.

This got me to thinking.
What is it about my man that so many other men want his presence in their weddings?
This got me thinking about friendships.
I really think that when it comes to friendship, men do a better job than women.
Case in point:
-Forgetting a birthday: not that big of a deal.
-Forgetting about boys night: big deal.
-Missing a new haircut, pair of glasses, facial hair, etc.: no big deal.
-Missing a new truck or motorcycle: big deal.
Other things that seem to make a male friendship work:
-Grabbing, pinching, twisting, or hitting.
-Name calling / nicknames.
-Silly voices.
-Semi-perverted text messages.
-Quietly listening to each other and not offering advice, unless asked.
-Offering to help out, and meaning it.
-Showing up to help out.
-Returning phone calls.
-Answering phone calls.
-Sticking up for (and protecting when necessary) each other's wives.
-Not holding grudges.
-Making commitments.
-Keeping commitments.
-Picking wise battles (that usually end in grabbing, pinching, twisting or hitting).
-Showing mercy to each other.

Oswald Chambers writes, "True friendship is rare on earth. It means identifying with someone in thought, heart, and spirit. The whole experience of life is designed to enable us to enter into this closest relationship with Jesus Christ."
I agree that true friendship is rare on earth, and while I don't think there will be much pinching or name calling in heaven, I guess if so many young men want Richard in their weddings, he must be a pretty good friend.

Dear Past Erin,

When you get up in the night looking for a snack in the wee hours of January 14, you will spill an open and precariously balanced 1lb bag of M&M's all over the carpeted hallway near the pantry.
This will be a real pain in the ass.
Sincerely,
Future Erin

p.s. Hillary doesn't win, don't worry. But it ain't pretty.

Dog Whisperer

Pedro needed reminding last night that I am indeed in charge.

I am the mommy.

I am the Alpha dog.

I turned him over on his back to force him to submit to me, and I held him there by his throat(Gently, of course. The exercise was not intended to hurt, only to remind him of who needs to submit to whom in our relationship...), all the while maintaining eye contact.

I didn't tell him he was bad, I didn't hit him, I didn't even yell.

I simply firmly reminded him that I. Am. In. Charge.

Forever and ever, amen.

Oh, did I mention that we're trying a new discipline technique at our house?

For future reference, will this work for toddlers?

I think Cesar would have been proud.

Could've Had a Middle Finger

Shortly after my family moved back to Hudson in 2002, my mom and I were on Vine Street at that stop sign right in front of the high school. The two boys in the Honda in front of us both flipped off the school.
That just didn't make sense to me. How dumb to flip off a building, right? I've thought about it for six years now. I just didn't get it. It's a building. It doesn't even care if you pee on it. It doesn't have feelings, or even a sense of propriety (not to be confused with a sense of property! Oh, I kill myself!).
Today on my way back from my chiro appointment with my drive thru lunch on the seat next to me, I passed a billboard that featured a photo of a half-eaten order of french fries and the tagline "Could've had a V8."
I get it now.
I get why those boys flipped off something that couldn't even see them.

Dear Past Erin,

Do not leave your Omega-3 Fish Oil pills out.
You leave one on your nightstand on the evening of January 9, where the cat finds it, plays with it, knocks it on the floor and shares it with the dog. You are very sad about this.
Sincerely,
Future Erin

p.s. The coffee is poisoned!
p.p.s. The dog will pee in the same spot in your bedroom exactly 438 more times before he is hit by a car, strangely enough, in your own driveway.
-F.E.

The Minors

Drinkin' nasty beer and breakin' hearts;
Givin' yourself tattoos with throwin' darts;
It's a Southern man thing.

-Chuck Steak, 2002-ish

This site is rated PG-13 for mild profanity, but is worth a read, especially when you learn that Charlie is a loooooong lost friend of mine from Alabama and as such, holds a special place in my heart. Welcome to blogworld, Chuck Steak.

Three Years

On July 31, 2004, Richard and I were running errands in Oakdale and decided to stop for Chinese food at our favorite dirty, disgusting, hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant.

Richard had been acting pretty weird all day and even mentioned over lunch that we might stop at the humane society and look at the cats. This was something I wanted to do for ages, but Rich said we should at least be engaged before we got a cat together.

I thought this was all out of the ordinary, but didn't pay much attention--I was dreaming about my future kitty!

When we sat down for lunch, Richard was very strange. He bounced through the entire meal, perched on the edge of the booth. He ate about three bites of his favorite Sesame Chicken. I said, "Why aren't you eating? What's wrong with you?"

"Nothin', I'm just not very hungry."

"Alright, well, I'm gonna dig in, then..."

I ate to my hearts content and chatted through lunch, ignoring what I assumed was an ADD fit on the part of my nutso boyfriend.

When we (I) finished eating, the owner brought out our fortune cookies, unwrapped on a plate.

"It's cookie time!" she shrieked as she hurried back to the kitchen. She and the cook peeked out at us.

Richard grabbed one of the cookies and stuffed half of it in his mouth.

I left mine on the plate.

"Aren't you gonna eat your cookie?"

"No...I don't really like fortune cookies. Plus, it's unwrapped. That's sorta gross."

"Don't you at least want to see what your fortune says??"

"I guess so."

I opened the remaining cookie and read, "I love you, Erin Duffert. Will you marry me?"

I was flabberghasted. What was my name doing in a fortune cookie??

Richard came around to my side of the booth and got down on one knee.

"Will you marry me?"

I'm pretty sure I said yes. Honestly, I can't remember. My brain was still trying to catch up with everything that was going on!

Rich said, "Do you want your ring?"

"Yes!"

"It's in the cookie!"

Sure enough, there was my DREAM engagement ring hidden in a cookie.

We married 6 months later on January 8, 2005, three years ago today. The best decision of my entire life.

Recently, I stopped at the China House to pick up some Sesame Chicken to bring home for dinner, and the owner said, "Hello, Erin!! When is the baby coming?!" She didn't even know I was pregnant. She just knew it was about time for the baby to come. : )

Insulation Nation

Remember the ice issues we were having?
Today, Richard and Aaron put 12 more inches of insulation in our attic.
Honestly, it's warmer in here already.
Sarah and I had a great time watching movies and eating Sheri's DELICIOUS brownies while our husbands got more filthy by the minute.
































Click on this image to zoom in and check out Richard's face. Even his eyelashes are covered!
















**Update a couple of hours later**
The ice dams are falling off the roof in big chunks! Thank you, God for high temperatures and a hard working husband.

Another one bites the dust...

This poor guy took it like a champ.

3:33

This morning, I woke up at 3:31 to go to the bathroom.
I remember the days when, 1. I didn't wake up in the middle of the night for anything, and 2. Getting out of bed to do anything was EASY. In fact, I remember when doing anything in bed was easy...alas, I digress.
By the time I made it back to bed it was 3:33.
I thought to myself, "Quick, make a wish!"
I wished to be on time for work today.
At 3:34, I thought, "Well that was a waste of a wish."

New Years Rockin' Crab Fest

Josh and Cara invited over Rich and me, along with Sarah, Aaron and Wayne to ring in the new year with a crab leg feast.
Between 6 people (Richard wouldn't eat any!), we ate 12lbs of crab legs!
Chef Aaron made them so delicious...honestly, it was divine.
We stayed well past midnight drinking sparkling grape juice and playing games.
I had so much fun, in fact, that I forgot to take more pictures.
Here's the few I brought home.

I put the Rad in Radio

I was just on the radio!

The gal was asking what games we played over Christmas, so naturally, I had to call in to tout Cineplexity, created by Hudson's own Sean Weitner, JonMichael Rasmus, and John Sams. We loved the game. Mom bought it for us for Christmas and we spent hours playing it. Basically, the idea is that you get two clues, for instance "New York City" and "Romance." The first player to come up with a satisfactory film to fit both clues wins the point.

(McKinney girls, this one is right up your alley.)

Last night, Mandi and I played "speed round," where we laid on the floor and flipped two cards over at a time and shouted out movie titles as fast as we could.

I just thought the Weitners that read my blog would like to know that I've been advertising for Sean's game--even on the radio!

This game is definitely worth picking up because everybody watches movies, and it can be a lot more challenging than I anticipated. We had a blast with it.

A puzzle for Kelli

Why is it that the fire alarm always starts beeping its "low battery warning" in the middle of the night?
Have you ever heard the warning before 11pm? Ever?

Peanut Butter

In honor of the Tired Boy vs Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich, Rich, Mandi and I made our own peanut butter video.

Ice Sculptures

This was the view from our back door this morning at 1am.
I guess it's a good thing that the storm door got stuck / frozen open, otherwise Pedro would be a very sad little dog.
Saturday's project: ice removal in a vain attempt to save our roof.
Please pray for us on this--the weight of the ice and the water backup can not be a good thing, and we aren't eager to replace the roof this summer.
Here's praying for some sun to aid in the removal of these pretty ice sculptures!

Don't you just wanna put your tongue on them?
A little?

What's Next?

On Saturday morning, before my parents arrived, Richard went out to plow the driveway only to discover that the garage door opener had bit the big one. Kaput. Finit. Nada.
So...he spent the better part of Saturday shopping for a new opener and then installing it with our dads. If you'll remember, Saturday is the day that went from 25 degrees to 4 degrees in less than two hours. They were all in the garage for that.
Fun.
Anyhow, they finally got it working around 8 that night.
The next morning, we all got up to get ready to go to the farm, and when Richard went to let Pedro out, he discovered that the roof was leaking between the deck door and the storm door. We're talking inches of ice, coupled with icicles that could have been used as weapons.
Not a happy moment for the Desvousges family.
Then, the (only) toilet stopped up completely. Apparently, it had been about 12 hours in the making, but I was completely unaware.
We got the back door open, the toilet in working order and when everybody was nearly ready to leave the house, I went down to change a load of laundry before we left only to find the clothes I had left in the dryer were wet. Again. For the third time in a week.
I thought, "Great. I can't tell Richard. This would be the icing on the cake. This would be the day he leaves for cigarettes and never comes back. And he doesn't even smoke."
And then something amazing happened. I fixed the dryer all by myself.
I pushed START.

Christmas at the Farm

We went out to "the Farm" yesterday to celebrate Christmas with my paternal Grandmother (Shirley) and Great-Grandmother (Gram Helga).
We brought pea soup and dined on soup, sandwiches, cinnamon bread, and pickles. Then we opened presents, and Baby Desvousges received its first Christmas present! It's going straight to the college fund! (MIT, of course.)
As you know, "The Grandmas" are very important to me. It was a nice day, celebrating with them, and letting them rub my pregnant belly. Gram thinks it's a girl.
Here are some pics from the day.

Truffles

I don't like truffles. Never have.
Sorry.
A co-worker gave me a box of truffles this morning for Christmas.
She totally just busted me giving them away.
I. am. so. embarrassed.

Gravity

I can feel gravity

today.
I can feel the weight of my own body pressing toward the center of the Earth.

I. am. tired.
I slept better than I have in a long time last night, yet I am more tired than ever today. I am so thankful that it's the end of the week, and I don't have to come back to work until December 27th.
I am sure the way I feel has to do with my pregnancy, but I also think I'm just plain tired.
I'm not trying to be a downer (pun), really. I'm just looking forward to my break.
A co-worker brought me a bottle of wine this morning as a Christmas gift.

Cruel. And unusual.

Grazing

Today is our annual holiday pot-luck / grazing party.
Somebody brought homemade caramels.
I took all of them.



What?

Pedro

Katie R., thanks for asking about Pedro!!

Pedro is a West Highland White Terrier (a Westie).

They are very good with children, but also VERY active. Pedro has always been pretty laid back, though, and not much like some of the other Westies I have met. Even when he was a puppy and we went (to ROCHESTER) to pick him out, he was more calm and subdued than his brothers and sisters who were barking and crawling all over him.

He very rarely barks in the house, and sees the cat as his own personal plaything. The only really bad thing about Westies is how FREAKING smart they are. Pedro can get into or out of ANYTHING and is so stubborn that you can actually see him making the decision to disobey me. As you can see in the photo, we took obedience classes (this was at the costume competition), and Pedro learned quickly what I was teaching him, but often chooses not to obey.

Westies are a lot like Scottie dogs in looks, though smaller, and I think nicer. I don't think I've ever actually met a nice Scottie. Pedro topped out at about 14lbs, and really doesn't stand much taller than our cat.

My favorite thing about Pedro? Besides how sweet he is, is that he can't jump! I love that! I get to decide if he can be on the bed with us, or where he goes. His little legs just aren't made for jumping.

Let me know if you have more questions!

If you decide to get a Westie, please promise me something: Promise that you will name him something appropriate! I wish we had named him Murdoc or Gromit, or something more Celtic in nature, since they are from the Highlands of Scotland! Although, with his laid back attitude, Pedro just seemed to fit, man.

Love me! I'm so cute!

The Most Beautiful

In all the stress and running of the Christmas Season, I sometimes have trouble remembering to CELEBRATE the birth of our savior.
I love this song because it so often applies to my daily attitude (even in non-Christmas seasons).
Take a second to read it.

I Heard the Bells
I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Till ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head
“There is no peace on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men.”

-Henry W. Longfellow, 1864

This Christmas Hymn was written during the Civil War, though seems so pertinent to our lives today, especially the last two stanzas. No matter what: God is not dead, nor does he sleep! I find this very reassuring and encouraging.
An updated version of the song is on the MercyMe Christmas Album. "The Christmas Sessions." I highly recommend it. Click here to go listen to the song. I think the link will work.
Confession: I secretly listen to this song all year.
Merry Christmas, friends.

Thanks, Carla!

For the best cookie recipe EVER!
Really. They took longer to bake than they took to mix up.
And they're delicious.
And strangely satisfying.
Next time? I will press chocolate chips into the warm cookies as they come out of the oven.
Next project: Cinnamon Streams.







See the grease spots on the paper? Yeah, I just couldn't help myself. Please excuse the messy kitchen. : )
Note to self: the cookies hardly change shape, if at all. Eat the ugly ones barefoot in the kitchen at 3am, and send the pretty ones to McClain in Little Rock for Christmas.

When Extroverts Fall in Love

Boy Choir

Can I get something off my chest?

I have never been a huge fan of an all-boy choir. Truth be told, I find them just a little creepy. The music is beautiful, no doubt, and relaxing and transfixing. I don't intrinsically dislike a song by a boy choir...I'm just not about to pop in my Boy Choir Greatest Hits CD and rock out in the car, if you get my drift.

During the Christmas season, there are a lot of boy choir songs on the radio. I don't mind them, really. But. Do you know what ruins the peaceful, beautiful melody of any Christmas carol sung by a choir of boys? Three words:

Michael W. Smith.

Independently of one another, I don't mind either a boy choir or Michael W., but put them together and I want to cut off my ears and throw them at ol' Smitty. Sometimes I think it would be worth it to never be able to wear earrings again if MWS would stop. collaborating. with. children's. choirs.

I can't be alone in this.

You know how I feel about the Little Drummer Boy. I guess we can just add this to the list of things that make me a Scrooge.

Lesser Women

With trepidation, I set out tonight to make brownies from scratch. (I guess I felt like I hadn't worked hard enough this weekeend...) My dad pointed out that lesser women have managed.
I haven't tried them yet, but they came out looking suspiciously like a cake.

We shall see.

Christmas Meme

Feel free to share your own answers! You can answer your favorites or all of them!
1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Wrapping paper. Whatever I steal from my mom's house.
2. Real tree or Artificial? Artificial so we don't have to dispose of it!
3. When do you put up the tree? Eh. When I have the energy. This year it was the weekend after Thanksgiving.
4.When do you take the tree down? When Richard makes me.
5.Do you like egg nog? You know, I really don't.
6. Favorite gift received as a child? I got My Little Pony pajamas one year. I really loved those.
7.Do you have a nativity scene? Not yet... (hint, hint).
8.Hardest person to buy for? My parents. They never "need" anything. It's not about needs people!
9. Easiest person to buy for? Myself. Haha. That is usually Brenda. Not so much this year, though!
10.Mail or email Christmas cards? Mail. But the rule is that if you send me one, I'll send you one. Period.
11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? I'm really not sure...
12. Favorite Christmas Movie? The Family Stone. Or Elf.
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Probably not as often as I have recycled wedding gifts.
15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? I really like those red and green mint taffy things. I look forward to those every year.
16. Clear lights or colored on the tree? Colored for the last two years.
17. Favorite Christmas song? I Heard the Bells, followed at a close second by Go Tell it on the Mountain.
18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? We do Christmas Eve at the Plumm's and Christmas day at our house. Perfect.
19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeers? No. I won't even try.
21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? When I was little we used to do one on Christmas Eve and the rest the next morning, but now we open presents with Richard's fam on Christmas Eve and with my fam on Christmas day. Like I said--perfect.
22. Most annoying thing about this time of year? Trying to go somewhere simple like the grocery store is 1000 times harder than it should be.
23. Favorite ornament theme or color? Angels, everywhere.
24. Favorite for Christmas dinner? Corned beef and cabbage. Oh wait...wrong holiday.
25. What do you want for Christmas this year? I had a hard time thinking of things this year!

Ruined

Last night when I got home, I was so exhausted that I crashed by 5:30.
I was sound asleep at 7:30 when Richard came in and asked if I wanted dinner. I wasn't too concerned since The Office was another rerun anyway. No reason to get up, if you asked me.
"Not really," I said.
"Are you going to sleep through?" he asked.
"I'm thinking about it," I said.
"Erin! You're ruining Grey's Anatomy night!"

Yeesh. I didn't know my girlfriend was so touchy these days.

We ate chicken pot pies in bed and watched the third season of LOST on the laptop, while the cat and dog slept at our feet. I don't think I could have asked for a better night. Grey's can wait on tevo until next week.

Dill Pickle

I'm going to substitute the words "dill pickle" for a popular phrase in my post today.

Today I get to dill pickle laminate 85 dill pickle copies of some dill pickle form that needs to go out dill pickle TODAY to our dill pickle customers.
I'm really dill pickle thrilled about the dill pickle opportunity to use my dill pickle office skills for something so dill pickle valuable and dill pickle important, especially since the dill pickle dill pickles who asked me to do it can't ever seem to make a dill pickle plan ahead of dill pickle time. This is my dill pickle time to dill pickle shine. Me and the dill pickle hand crank laminator.
I dill pickle love every-dill pickle-thing today.
Abso-dill pickle-loutely

Later that day:
Upon further thought and in reference to Mandi's comment, I think I now understand the pull that guys tend to feel toward Metallica.

Guys

What's the deal with guys turning the "heat" on full blast in the car before the engine is warm?
What's the deal with jumping right out of bed in the morning? And falling right asleep at night?
What's the deal with the "farmer blow?" (Sorry, Kristi)
What's the deal with the secret stash (i.e. entire Rubbermaid tote) of electrical cords?
What's the deal with Metallica?
What's the deal with Cap'n Crunch?
What's the deal with belly button lint? I mean, really.



On my iPod at this moment:
"Under Pressure" David Bowie & Freddie Mercury. (heart)

Back with a Bang

I've been wrestling with what to blog about for my return to bloggerville.

The VP called this morning to ask me to find three very high-ranking members of the division and ask them to call him within 5 minutes. I usually don't get too nervous about talking to these men, but for some reason today, I was just a titch nervous. I was flattered that the VP called me in his own assistant's absence and I didn't want to let him down. Five minutes isn't very long when you're looking for people.
I went into one of their offices (didn't knock), said, "The VP asked you to--"
I immediately interrupted myself by tripping on my clog and hitting the floor.
I'm not freaking kidding. It was like a bad SNL skit.
I'm fine, baby is fine. I caught myself without falling really hard.
I'm just totally mortified.

Heeeere's your blog.

Weight

I've been gaining a lot of weight lately.
Word weight.
I binge and binge and binge on words because I love them. I eat them up. I love to see how I can put them together and take them apart. I love to see how other people, authors, journalists and some bloggers do it, too.
I read a lot. I read a lot online and I read a lot of books. I read for entertainment and for edification.
I love words. It's a part of my soul. A part of my spiritual make-up. A gift.
I didn't realize, however how much words weigh. How many calories I'm taking in with the words I devour on a regular basis.
They're going straight to my hips. I'm hippy enough, ifyouknowwhatImean.
I binge and binge and now it's time to purge.
I've had enough of looking this way, feeling weighed down and responsible for the slow-motion car wreck that you just can't look away from.
It's like a girl with her thong underwear sticking out from the back of her pants. Somebody you don't like with food in their teeth. A bad toupee. A slow-motion slide onto a snowdrift.
You just can't look away.
I'm looking away now.
It's time for the fast.
I need to lose some weight--and quickly.
It's 40 days in the desert for me and Haiku Lady.
Or...however long it takes for me to figure out what God wants for me and my word-loving spirit. This is, after all, all for Him, right? Am I doing that? Am I doing this (or anything for Him?) Hence, the fast.




I will, however be updating my baby blog since that's for my baby in the end.

Office "Holiday" Party

I had my very first work party last night.

Richard was my date for the evening and was a perfect gentleman. We looked a bit like a geriatric couple outside, however, because I was wearing new shoes that were very slippery on the ice and holding on to my limping husband's arm. True love if ever there was.

We took this photo when we got home to commemorate the fact that we survived the occasion.

It really wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

Best part of the night?

A mashed potato bar.

Really!

And, of course, getting to take this hottie as my date:

Merry Christmas

Dear Popular Cosmetics Store,

I love, love, LOVE spending my lunch hour browsing your aisles. I know many of your saleswomen find this amusing based on the amount of make up I wear--or I should say, don't wear. I can't help it. I love looking. I buy nail polish, typically in the same color every time, I buy make up, use it once or twice and then lose or break it. In short, I've wasted a lot of money inside your four very well lit walls, but what Richard doesn't know won't hurt him, right?!
Thank you for the coupons in the mail recently. My favorite makeup brand on sale for $9.99--what a deal for a 3-piece set! And with a $3.50 Off coupon for any purchase over $10. I couldn't believe my luck! Not to mention the free nail polish with my Level 1 rewards certificate! Score me!
So, I brought my coupons to work with me today looking forward to my trip all morning.
Imagine my disappointment when $9.99 is not the same thing as $10 (even with 8% tax!), therefore, I had to spend a little more money on something else to get the deal.
No big deal. The Holiday nail polish set was on sale for $4.50. Sweet. I sorta wanted that anyway.
Uh-oh! The $10 total purchase could not include the 3-piece make up set. Drat! I should have read the fine print. Silly me!
Well, I need hair color so Nene can do my hair this weekend. I guess I can spend $5 more.
$18 later, I am still pretty excited about the purchases I probably won't use.
Looking forward to more coupons!
Sincerely Suckered,
Erin

p.s. I feel really, REALLY bad about knocking over that Ralph Lauren cologne set on my way to the register. I'm sorry it exploded all over the floor. I'm sorry it's all over my shoes right now.

The Untold Story of the Little Red Hen: A Story of Love, Lust and Compromise

The Little Red Hen had big plans for her Sunday. She wanted to dress the children, put up the Christmas tree and bake cookies.

When she rose very early, she said to Richard the Rooster, "Who will dress the children?"

"Will you have sex with me?" said the Rooster.

"Not right now," said the Little Red Hen, "I have too much to do."

"Then, not I," said the Rooster, "I have homework to do."

The Little Red Hen was able to dress two of the children, but the third was forced to spend the day hiding her face in her nakedness.

Later that day, the Little Red Hen said,

"Who will decorate the Christmas tree?"

"Will you have sex with me?" said Richard the Rooster.

"Not now," said the Little Red Hen, "I have too much to do."

"Then, not I," said the Rooster, "I have to play Madden."

So the Little Red Hen decorated the Christmas tree all by herself.

Then it came time to make the cookies.

"Who will make the cookies?" said the Little Red Hen.

"Will you have sex with me?" said the Rooster.

"Not now, I'm almost done with my chores," said the Little Red Hen.

"Then not I," said the Rooster. "I'm tired of asking."

"Fine!" said the Little Red Hen, and spent an hour clucking to herself in the kitchen, only to turn around to discover that someone had eaten a cookie!

The Little Red Hen was beside herself in anger.

"Who ate this cookie?" she screeched.

"Not I," said Pedro."

"Not I," said Lexi.

"Not I," hacked Old Man Bailey.

"Not I," said Richard the rooster, wiping chocolate chips from his mouth.

"It was you!" said the Little Red Hen.

***

Hours later, after a long talk about cookies and sex, it was decided between the Rooster and the Hen that never the tween shall meet.

And the next time the Little Red Hen made cookies, she also made cookies ifyaknowwhatimean.