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Memorial Day Weekend at Tom and Amy’s Lake House

  • May 27, 2009



We had an absolutely fabulous time at Tom and Amy’s lake house over Memorial Day Weekend. I have so many more pictures I’d like to share but due to my “no photos of children on my blog” policy, I can’t show them to you. Trust me when I say our offspring, and Tom and Amy’s offspring, spent two full days in kid utopia where the official uniform was a swimsuit and S’mores were readily available.

A few highlights:

*We were worried about the weather because hey, it’s Iowa and you just never know what you’re going to get. But it was beautiful the whole weekend. We arrived at the lake house around 2:00 PM on Saturday afternoon and it was hot and sunny. Which is probably why the margaritas tasted so damn good.

*Matthew caught a big catfish but we threw it back so it could live to be caught by someone else who would probably eat it.

*We went out on the pontoon boat many times, enjoying both daytime and evening cruises. My brand new white bucket hat flew off my head on our maiden voyage but Tom doubled back and we plucked it out of the lake.

*We let all the kids drink coffee while at the lake which means we are either incredibly cool parents or incredibly stupid ones.

*We were up with the sun both mornings which gave us plenty of time to do all the fun things we planned. We went golfing Sunday morning and played nine holes on an all but deserted golf course. We had four kids, four adults, and four golf carts to peel around in. We had a blast!

*Dave tried to take a little disco nap on Sunday after golfing because he was tired. We told him to “man up” because we were all tired but no one else was lying down. Sheesh, what a Nancy pants.

*Tom and Amy have the coolest firepit and we made S’mores. My marshmallow was burned to shit but I ate it anyway.

*I got three mosquito bites and saw two spiders, one of which I killed because it was scurrying around in the tub when I went to take a shower.

*I made a batch of crack dip and Tom and Amy’s sister-in-law Rita, who had never had crack dip before, kept getting it back out of the cooler. Hello? Because it’s like crack.

*I brought Jack’s Special Salsa from Costco because I love it. I made Dave stop at the grocery store on our way out of town so I could get freshly made tortilla chips from the Hy-Vee kitchen to have with the salsa because they’re just like the ones you get in a Mexican restaurant (hell, they’re better). They’re thin, greasy, and salty. I was eating chips and salsa on Tom and Amy’s patio Saturday night but my coordination was not too stellar. I spilled salsa everywhere. There was a splotch on the patio table, a few puddles on the patio, and a big splat on my shoe. But none on my clothes (go me!). I could get the salsa on the chip just fine but for some reason (tequila), I could not get the salsa to stay on the chip before it got to my mouth. I felt bad about the mess but at least we were outside. And Tom and Amy said I could come back for the fourth of July!

Probably they don’t want me to bring salsa though.

Flashback Friday – Guest Star Edition

  • May 22, 2009

Welcome to Flashback Friday! Today I’m flashing back in the life of my twin sister Trish. And to my girlfriends? Be afraid because you may be next.


G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S, yeah (Glamour shots)
G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S (Glamour shots)

“Hmmmmm,” thought Trish. “It’s 1991 and I’m living in sunny southern California and I’m bored. What should I do? Go to the beach? Meet some girlfriends for a drink? Maybe see a movie. Wait a minute! I’m gonna go to the mall and get me one of them glamour shots and then give them to Tracey and dad for Christmas.

Say cheese!”

“Listen up Chachi. Do what I say and no one gets hurt. Give me the name of your agent and a two-line speaking part on Charles in Charge and I’ll go away. And get me some champagne, dammit!”

The Real Housewives of New Jersey Are A Hot Mess

  • May 20, 2009





How much am I loving The Real Housewives of New Jersey? Oh so much. I love the fact that these housewives aren’t even trying to dispel any of the common Joisey stereotypes.

The episode opens with Jacqueline trying to get some control over her teenaged daughter who is pulling some pretty crappy grades.

Theresa takes her three daughters shopping and all three of them are totally blinged out. They go a couple times a week. Theresa also wants them all to match, even she and Joe. Something weird is going on with Theresa’s hair. Wig? Weave? I’m not sure but it reminds me of Bobblehead Kim with the bad weave from The Real Housewives of Atlanta.

Theresa gets a call about one of her daughters being up for a lead role in a movie with The Rock. She feels really good about putting her daughter into the entertainment business because it makes Theresa the little girl happy. Theresa buys a crapload of stuff for her and her girls and pays cash. I noticed last week that Theresa paid cash for some furniture. Me thinks “big and juicy” Joe must also be running a supa-profitable meth ring because I think only drug dealers (and their wives and mistresses) carry around that much lettuce.

Danielle and Jacqueline have lunch and Danielle immediately informs us that there was an instant connection the minute she met Jacqueline. I think Danielle just separated the nicest and most level headed housewife from the rest of herd and is actually lining up a much needed ally because something tells me she is gonna stir the put, but good, this season. Danielle is eager to become part of the Sopranos Manzo’s inner circle and Jacqueline very tactfully explains that she’ll need to back ‘er down Jackson if she wants them to trust and accept her.

Jacqueline prepares for a birthday party for her son C.J. complete with a petting zoo, pony rides, bounce house, and slide. Her BFF Danielle follows her around as she tries to finish getting everything ready. Danielle tells Jacqueline that her daughter has invited a bunch of kids from school to the party and Danielle asks Jacqueline if she wants her to talk to her daughter. Jacqueline wisely ignores Danielle’s backseat parenting and goes to talk to her daughter herself.

For what it’s worth, my favorite housewife is Jacqueline and my least favorite is Danielle. And where were all the New Jersey husbands? Are Bravo producers tailing them around town in unmarked town cars trying to get a shot of them doing anything? Engaging in crime? Proving they exist?

And guess what I found out? Tommy and Al’s dad was murdered and found stuffed in the trunk of his Lincoln Continental. Don’t ask me how I know (it’s just good investigative journalism folks).

Reunion show:

I had a hard time even looking at the TV screen every time they panned to Danielle and her cold, dead, Voldemort eyes. I told David it looked like her soul had been sucked out of her body and that she was totally creeping me out.

I think it’s worth mentioning that even though I love making fun of the Real Housewives, I’d give one of my organs to be on the show. I don’t care how many Bravo employees I’d have to have wild monkey sex with either. The opportunity to earn 10K every episode for doing things I”m already doing anyway is way too tempting to pass up.

Probably Dave should take my credit card away because I just ordered myself a “Happy Wife, Happy Life” t-shirt from Teresa G’s website. I also threw in a pink baseball cap with “Happy Wife, Happy Life” written in rhinestones (bling, bling!). They should be coming soon.

10 some reasons why I’ve been such a shitty blogger lately

  • May 20, 2009

Hello blogosphere!

I know I’ve been kinda “phoning it in” lately and I’m sorry.

But let me explain.

I’ve been suffering from a combination of Internet overload, blogger burnout, and an end of the year time crunch. Even though I’ve had the entire school year to organize the playroom, clean out all the closets, cabinets, and cupboards, and put 3,256 photos into albums, I haven’t done it. I also haven’t completed any scrapbooking projects but that’s because I loathe that activity and plan on paying Amy to do it for me.

I spend way too much time reading and attempting to comment on other people’s blogs which leaves me with even less time to think up funny, clever, and interesting posts for my own.

And Twitter and Facebook? You are starting to bug me. I no longer care what Demi and Ashton are doing every thirty seconds and seriously, don’t they have some acting to do somewhere? And to my Facebook friends? You can keep sending me shit for my farm but since I’ve never visited my farm I am assuming everything you sent is dead and rotting, including the animals. Sorry. And why does it seem like I only get updates from the same three people? I’ve checked my settings and everything appears to be okay yet I know way too much about the daily minutiae of people I am not close friends with. I still like posting on my friend’s walls though so it’s not like I’m anti Facebook. I’m just not willing to spend my time thinking of clever status updates. Ditto Twitter.

I’ve also been tending to the offspring who have had a rough couple weeks battling strep throat and the stomach flu. This would be so much easier to handle if they weren’t the little boy and the little girl who cry wolf all the time. Because they’ve both turned into total fibbers I didn’t believe either of them when they actually got sick.

First Lauren tried to get out of going to tumbling because her throat hurt. But her throat hurts every time she has tap and ballet or tumbling because what she really wants to do, instead of going to class, is play outside now that it’s finally warm and sunny here. When Lauren walked into our bedroom at 4:30 AM a few mornings later with a forehead hot enough to fry an egg on, we ended up at the doctor who treated her for one of the worst bouts of strep throat she’s ever had.

Matthew, no slouch in the hooky department, decided to capitalize on the fact that we had strep germs floating around in the house and decided to start complaining of his own sore throat at 4:30 AM a few mornings later. I kept him home and took him to the doctor but his strep test was negative. His throat was pretty red so they gave me a prescription for antibiotics but told me not to have Matthew start taking the medicine unless his symptoms got worse. He was fine the rest of the day and spent equal amounts of time watching SpongeBob SquarePants and playing on the computer.

The next morning Matthew got up as usual and had a big bowl of cereal. I asked him if his throat or head hurt and he said no.

I was grocery shopping when the school nurse called my cell phone to tell me she had Matthew in her office and he didn’t look good. He wasn’t complaining of a sore throat but he said he felt sick. I said, “yeah, um, is he like faking because he does that quite a bit?” She told me she thought he really didn’t feel good but since she’s new, I figured it was a rookie mistake. I told her I was at the grocery store but that i would grab 17 more items be right there. I knew he was just trying to get out of being at school.

By the time I got there the boy who cried wolf had puked three times, the last time “horrifically” according to the nurse. The school janitor was there with a mop and bucket and the nurse said, “What did Matthew have for breakfast today?” “Cranberry Total cereal, ” I said. The nurse said, “I thought it was something like that.” You can mail my mommy of the year award to P.O. Box I’m a Shitty Mom.

After I finally got everyone healthy and back to school, I had to go to my own doctor appointment at Heartland Dermatology. This is the place I have all my body hair lasered off and it’s also where my dermatologist Dr. Feldman works. I had an appointment with her to ask about Botox and Radiesse and while I was there I planned on having her look at a big freckle I’d suddenly noticed on my collarbone.

Dr. Feldman took one look at my freckle and suddenly, I was laying down on the table having a biopsy while she told me she didn’t like the size and shape of the freckle or how quickly it had appeared. Before she left the room she told me she was concerned it was early stage melanoma.

I forgot all about Botox and Radiesse as the nurse went over how to care for the biopsy site and explained what I’d need to do for scar therapy. She said I’d hear something by the end of the week.

Everything turned out fine. My freckle thingie turned out to be benign and I’ll probably be sporting a funny band-aid on my collarbone for the next twelve weeks which is fine with me because you know what’s not funny? Melanoma.

Another reason for my lack of posting is the totally captivating late spring TV schedule. Someone who claims she “hardly ever watches TV” sure has some splainin’ to do about why there’s a Tracey shaped ass indention on the couch. Seriously, between American Idol, Lost, and The Real Housewives, I’ve been watching way too much TV. Now that Lost is over and Idol is almost done (go Kris!), the couch cushions should start to spring back.

However, now that the weather is nicer, I’d rather be outside in the afternoon and evening (wearing a hat and sunscreen with an SPF of eleventy billion). Blogging was so much easier during the shitty Iowa winter when I really didn’t want to leave the house at all. The offspring will be out of school soon and then I’m not sure what will happen to this blog. I find it almost impossible to write anything without total silence and if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s about to get really loud around here.

But, I can certainly continue to post about what’s going on here in the ‘hood, even if it’s not that side-splittingly funny. I read lots of blogs that simply tell the reader what’s going on in the blogger’s life and I enjoy them very much. I’m hoping you will not mind if I do the same because I don’t want to stop posting. I’m just not sure my posts will be all that creative or funny.

Kristi – sorry dude. I’m letting you down and I know it. I promise if you stop by this summer you’ll give me something funny to write about. Ditto Trish.

Oh, and I do have some Sandy the Yeti news to report soon because she’s gone off her fucking rocker. I’m trying to think of a post about everything that’s been going on but it’s not so much funny as it is unbelievable. I hope to post some accompanying photos too because the Yeti’s yard is now bookended by trampolines and I think it’s pretty hysterical. I can’t wait until those trampoline springs need a shot of WD-40 either.

So, welcome to funny in the ‘hood, summer edition. Who needs a cold one?

My weight loss update

  • May 18, 2009

(Am I right Kirsti Alley – insert photo??)

It was like fate poking me in the belly saying, “Hey chubby, give Dave the other half of your sandwich.

Dave wanted to make a sandwich using the broiler. Even though I knew how this would probably end I tried to walk him through the steps of toasting his sandwich.

Sometime around the fourth of July, Dave usually takes a week off work to spend at home with me and the offspring. Our household instantaneously morphs into a Jimmy Buffet song and I am usually “A Cheeseburger in Paradise” away from falling into a trans fat laden, alcohol flooded abyss where everyone’s treadmill is used exclusively for drying sweaters (okay you all know I don’t actually eat beef but Jimmy does not have any songs about chicken).

this phrase made my blood run cold:

suddenly I need guacamole like I need a heartbeat and Internet access.

I’ve mentioned on this blog that I try not to drink on school nights. But lately, starting with the week of the Kenny Chesney concert and cruising through the Memorial Day weekend, I’ve been averaging 3-4 nights of happy juice.

do. then talk.

Flashback Friday – The Spirit Years

  • May 15, 2009

“Kirsten? Bring it. And get ready to have your ass handed to you by the Johnston Dragon’s middle school football cheerleading squad.”

Look at me! On the bottom of the pyramid, as usual. But check out the next photo. What a high straight kick I have! See Michelle standing on the far right? She effed something up. One time she also farted during a cheer and we never let her forget it. (Click on any photo to enlarge)

I don’t know what’s more remarkable, the fact that I used to be able to do handsprings or that my dad managed to capture one on film. Here’s Amy and I, cheering like it’s our job (and we didn’t need no stinkin’ mittens either).

“I’ve got spirit yes I do, I’ve got spirit how ’bout you?”

I just ended my cheer with a roundoff back handspring. Okay, I lied. I went to the fridge and got a diet coke. Whatever. I can still do the splits.

No I can’t.

The Kenny Chesney Concert

  • May 12, 2009

Last Thursday night, Dave and I kicked off the Mother’s Day weekend a little early by attending the Kenny Chesney concert with Julie, Dean, Trish, Bridget, and Diane. The unpredictable Iowa weather almost dashed our plans for pre-concert tailgating but by 5:30 PM we were chugging sipping *superritas in the sun.

That’s Dave and Dean. See the truck right behind them? We were worried Dave and Dean might become victims of vehicular manslaughter because the crazy parking lot attendant let the pickup truck back up until the bumper was mere inches away, just so he could make another six bucks. THEN, even though we already paid when we entered the parking lot, the parking lot Nazis came around and charged us again, just for tailgating on the grass. Here’s Julie and I below. I’m holding a beer and the ticket that proves we paid six more dollars. Say it with me: Extortion.

Here we are enjoying sandwiches, chips, taco salad, and crack dip wrapped in tortillas (**crack wraps!). Below is Mark and Kim. Even though we’d never seen them before in our lives, they seemed nice and since they said “hi” when they walked by, we invited them to join us because that’s just how we roll here in Iowa.

Here’s Julie enjoying a superrita before our tailgate utopia became a used car lot. The next picture is in Wells Fargo arena. Bridget, Julie, and Dean have wisely grabbed a fresh beer as the concert is about to start.

Kenny came out of the audience right behind where we were sitting. I noticed some guy messing with something that was all covered by a large piece of black fabric. The girl standing behind me told me Kenny would be coming out from under it and she was right. He got into a little chair on cables and flew right over our heads. I can’t believe how close we were to him.

Kenny Chesney put on a great show and we had a wonderful time, even if we all felt like crap on Friday. It was totally worth it.

*Dan’s Superritas

500 ml Mott’s apple juice

200 ml 100% blue agave tequila (Jose Cuervo)

200 ml cointreau, citronage, or grand marnier

100 ml key lime juice (you can find this in a plastic bottle in the juice aisle)

Stir above ingredients and serve over ice in salt-rimmed glass. Enjoy!

**Crack Wraps

Flashback Friday

  • May 8, 2009

Our parents went to Hawaii and all we got were these stupid outfits. And another trip to Olan Mills Portrait Studio.

The Dirty T-Shirt Party

  • May 4, 2009

A couple years ago, when Dave turned forty, we decided to throw a theme-based birthday party. We thought having a dirty t-shirt party sounded like a lot of fun. And by dirty we meant wholly inappropriate. Like really offensive. No holds barred, if you will.

Everybody got into it. Some people ordered their shirts at t-shirt hell or cafepress. I ordered two of my four shirts from Cafepress because I liked their custom design option. One of my custom t-shirts said It’s all about Dave (because really, there are 364 other days that are all about me). Another of my custom t-shirts said I can drink you whores under the table because hello? I said wholly inappropriate and really offensive, remember? I should probably point out that I drank absolutely no one under the table at the dirty t-shirt party because two weeks before, I’d had a hangover of such colossal magnitude that I wasn’t yet back on the sauce. I told Dave I wouldn’t drink so he could let loose but it was really because I couldn’t fathom the thought of drinking alcohol.

Here’s Dave on the left, wearing his Gimme A Drink, Fuckass t-shirt (click on any picture to enlarge). His other t-shirt says I Think You’re Pretty. Pretty Fucking Stupid. Mark is standing next to Dave in the picture on the right. He’s holding his Pimp glass and was thoughtful enough to bring Dave one that said Playa. Mark took the t-shirt idea one step further by dressing as a Des Moines east sider complete with mullet wig and sandals worn with socks.

Since I was stone cold sober, I took pictures as everyone arrived. I took two pictures; one of the guest wearing the t-shirt and then just a close up of the t-shirt so we could capture what it said. These are two of my favorites.

Amy had one of the best shirts of the night. Are we clear on what queefing is? Everybody?

I ♥ that Stacy wore a t-shirt letting everyone know how she feels about cameltoe. And be careful because her husband Tim has a big “you-know-what.”

Tom gets the award for best t-shirts. And I love that he was so into the idea that one t-shirt was not enough.

Here’s me in two of my four t-shirts. I’m especially partial to the Crack Whore one because I am just that classy. My friend Lisa is standing next to me wearing a t-shirt that says, in really small letters, Nosy Little Fucker, Aren’t You?

I don’t even have a penis and yet I almost want my own Rock Out With Your Cock Out t-shirt like my friend Ben. His wife Kerri’s t-shirt is a perfect choice because her boobs are real and we’ve all seen them. Multiple times. Usually when drinking. In fact, we saw ’em that night. Sometimes when I’m talking to someone about Kerri I’ll say, “You know, my friend Kerri with the boobs?” I kinda love that about Kerri.


There are many more pictures of that night and some of them didn’t make it onto this blog post simply because there isn’t room for them all. Also, even though I wasn’t drinking and should be able to take a simple photo, you can’t see the writing clearly in all of them.

We had a really fun night celebrating Dave’s birthday. If you’re thinking about throwing your own theme party this summer, consider the dirty t-shirt party.

I guarantee you’ll have a good time.

Flashback Friday

  • May 1, 2009

“Carol Brady called. She wants her shag back.”

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