Who had a super Christmas? Because I sure did. Waking up to go man a nearly empty office this morning just about killed me. Seriously. I'm pro everyone taking the last two weeks of the year off. Except for Wal Mart. Because the world needs Wal Mart. Especially on Christmas when they're on their period and run out of party favors. You know, just a thought.
Anyways, anyone up for a re-cap of our very first married Christmas? (Awe. Precious.) Here are some of the highlights of our Christmas weekend (because I'm just about certain that I'll forget everything about this year's Christmas by next year - because I have the memory of a crack whore.)
-We went to Sizzler with Shawn's family on Christmas Eve. I'm pretty sure I hadn't been to Sizzler since I was 10. I had to laugh a little bit. Because who goes to Sizzler? It was fun, in any event. Anyways - then we went and saw Tron. Have you ever watched a 9 hour movie? Yeah. It was like that. It was a decent movie, I guess. But I can say with absolute confidence, that I will not be watching it again. My husband, on the other hand, would marry the movie if he could. Dead serious. (By the way, a commercial for Sizzler just came on. And I laughed. I assume most people don't find Sizzler as amusing as I do. So I'm going to go ahead and move on before I offend all the people who received Sizzler gift cards for Christmas.)
-Shawn's family gets a new Christmas ornament every year, and my family gets new pajamas. And since I'm anal retentive and all the ornaments on my Christmas tree have to match, we went with the new pajamas. I got Shawn some stellar Santa pajamas and since we decided on the pajamas about 24 hours before Christmas, Shawn got me some fuzzy slipper boot things - because I always whine about how my feet have chronic frostbite, and he's probably tired of sitting on my feet to warm them up.
-Shawn's inner 7 year old made his Christmas debut, as Shawn woke me up and eagerly asked me if we could open our presents yet. At 5 o'effing clock in the morning. I grunted something completely incoherent and promptly fell back asleep. I don't do mornings - as you will soon witness for yourself in this next gem of a video, after I had decided it was an appropriate hour to finally wake up.
Don't mind the blur that's in the middle of the picture like, the entire time. And are we loving how excited Shawn is? Doesn't it just remind you of his N'Sync Christmas?
-We started recording each present that we opened, but that got old really fast. So I won't even put you through that. But we were very blessed this year.
-We spent the entire Christmas day visiting about 800,000 family members. Turns out married Christmases are a smidgen more complicated then when I had just one family. But it was still nice to see everyone. We went to Shawn's parent's house first, and opened a few presents with them. Then we hauled toosh over to my grandparents - they have a tradition of making the entire family Egg McMuffins. And as a child, I rarely got one - because my family always showed up after they were done serving them. So this year I was adamant that we arrive before noon, because I wanted my breakfast sandwich. We rolled in at about 11:45. Totally in time to get some delicious food. We hung out with my family there, and then went to go visit a few other sets of grandparents. As I type this, I realize this can't possibly be entertaining for you. Sorry. Let's just say this post is for my future spawn. Because they'll care - right?
-Shawn started feeling a bit queezy - so we went home and went into mini-hibernation for about 3 hours.
-My parents started a new tradition of going to a Chinese restaurant the night of Christmas. Shawn and I pull up to "Jumbo Buffet - ChineseAmerican Food." Shawn instantly starts to feel sick again and claims that anything with the words "Chinese" and "American" in the title, can't be good food. We go inside and meet my family. And even though he's been sick for a good portion of the day, my husband begins to inhale a crap ton of Chinese American food. And I just about heaved when I saw him put several of these on his plate:
Did anyone else just throw up? Anyways... we were probably the loudest ones there. Making inappropriate jokes about how one of the entrées looked strikingly similar to certain female anatomy, and other things that you'd only find my family discussing. Which is awesome, really.
Anyways, as I've said multiple times - our first Christmas was a good one. I'm officially bored of this post, so I'm going to end on a completely unrelated note...
Check out my Fall semester! Welcome to the Dean's List, Chelsea. Only three more classes to go and I'm done for.e.ver. (PS, does it ever drive anyone else crazy when they have all As and one damn A-. A bit of a killjoy if you ask me.)
And I'm officially done talking about Christmas. I think.
So I started writing a huge post about Christmas last night - and then got bored of it and decided I'd bring the video camera to work today and finish it there.
I forgot the video camera, naturally.
So, just so the post sitting in my drafts doesn't end up being entirely too long, I'll tell you what our Christmas gift highlights were this year. And I realize that Christmas isn't about the presents, but c'mon - who doesn't like presents? It's like when you're 8, and you set up all your presents so all your friends and family can come over and ooh and ah at all your awesome gifts. Except I'm doing it virtually. Because I can.
A ping pong table.
(A ping pong table that I might have accidentally dropped on his head while we were about finished setting up. Causing it to break. I cried just a little bit. Luckily it was repairable. I don't know why my husband lets me touch any of his stuff, honestly. Especially things that weigh as much as an effing elephant.)
A crap ton of power tools.
(Rarely can you go wrong with buying a man tools.)
A man chest to put all of his man tools in.
An electric can opener.
(Because I was worried that if he tried to use our Pampered Chef can opener one more time, he'd have to go to therapy. Seriously. I've never seen an object cause such mental hysterics as the can opener did with my husband.)
Sexual innuendo magnets for our fridge.
(Honestly, did you expect much less? I might have bought these more for myself, than for him - because I thought they were hilarious. Except I don't think my husband quite grasps the "innuendo" part. Go ahead and guess which sentence is his...)
Super subtle, husband.
Not to mention, marginally inappropriate. Sorry mom. And family. And everyone else, for that matter.
Just a small sample of the colorful words we have to work with. With the exception of like, two words - they're all totally appropriate.
A hand warmer.
(Because his hands are always freezing - and I thought it would be more effective than making letting him warm his hands up with my blow dryer.)
(Because the coffee table is for our feet. Obviously.)
My elephant ring.
(Remember that elephant ring from Kohls that I totally lusted after? He lied to me the entire time, telling me he hadn't got it for me because I'd never wear it.. I squealed like a 5 year old girl who just got an entire Barbie collection, when I opened it. Then I cracked a joke about how I liked it more than my wedding ring. Needless to say Shawn wasn't a huge fan of that joke. Obviously I was kidding.)
Note that I am wearing it. At work, no less.
Also, can you imagine getting punched in the face with that thing? Ouch.
A Chi flat iron.
(I've been asking for one of these things for ages. Yet another gift Shawn told me he "forgot" to get. There was no way he forgot. I was constantly telling him that's what I wanted. And when I'm annoying about something, you don't forget it.)
My WEDDING VIDEO.
(This was probably the best gift I received from my husband. I had no idea it was going to be done. A family friend did it for free, so we weren't rushing him to get it finished, because he was immensely busy with other things. But it turned out absolutely phenomenal. We watched the entire thing on Christmas morning, and I bawled like a little baby. And because this isn't just an "average" wedding video, I'm going to see what I can do to chop it up into little viewable pieces so you guys can see exactly what I'm talking about. And I promise you won't be let down!)
The complete Friends series.
(I absolutely adore this show. And you better believe Shawn and I will be starting from disk one, and moving our way through all ten seasons. Chandler is officially my favorite. Just in case you were wondering.)
(Normally my husband has an absolutely terrible taste in purses - but I was actually impressed at what a good job he did at choosing one I liked. The inside of the purse I have right now is down right abysmal. Exploded lotion, melted milk duds, and scattered Mentos. It's time.)
8,948 tubes of chapstick, Mentholatum, and lip gloss.
(Okay, not really. But I cannot stress what a chapstick/Mentholatum/lip gloss whore I am. My lips turn to ashes without them. And I realize Mentholatum isn't necessarily meant for your lips. But try it. Instant lip gloss. Plus, I'm always losing them - now I don't really have much of an excuse.)
(What is Christmas without clothes. This was the only gift I actually knew I was getting. Mostly because, well, I picked it all out myself. Shawn knows I'm way too picky to buy without prior approval.)
(Who knew I would be so excited to get stools for Christmas? Ah, growing up.)
Anyways, needless to say we were very blessed this Christmas. Especially from family, friends, and people at work. Our parents were extremely generous, and I couldn't be more grateful for them. Christmas is such a wonderful season - and not just because we get elephant rings and ping pong tables - but it gives us a chance to give. It gives us a chance to think about and help people who may not have as much as we do. And it gives us a chance to reflect on the true meaning of Christmas - to reflect on Christ and all that He's given to us. To step outside the commercialism of it all, and absorb all our blessings. How would the world be if we were in the Christmas spirit year round? (Minus the Christmas music, obviously. Because one can only handle so much of that.) I'm personally grateful for the gifts that my Savior has given me - and think they're worth more than any amount of material gifts I could ever receive in a lifetime. My goal is to always keep that in mind, and to pay Him back by paying it forward to people around me - friends and strangers alike.
That said, I think we can agree that the length of this post has hit a maximum. So I will bid you adieu for now.
Hope your holiday was awesome! And don't forget, I'm totally still not done with telling you about my Christmas. So try not to be too excited.
Even though I'm sure you'd like to read the vagina post about 5 more times - let's move on, shall we?
My weekend. Bullet style.
-Shawn spent about three and a half hours finishing up a final for an online class - while I paced around the house completely bored out of my mind. You know, Friday night was so dull, that I can't even remember what we did up to the point that I decided going to bed would be more productive than anything we were doing. Oh wait, I remember. We cleaned. We cleaned on Friday night. And after that I just went to bed - because I couldn't be bothered to come up with any fun activities.
-Shawn stayed up and hung out with our friend Darin. Until 2. While they were sitting on the couch, Toby (who was probably half awake at that point), jumped up with Shawn and moments after totally peed all over him. Had it been me Toby peed on, we would no longer own a dog. But I couldn't help but laugh when Shawn told me about it. How many wife points does that get me?
-Saturday we went underwear shopping - because someone has been stealing mine. Seriously. I don't know where the heck they've all gone - but I found myself putting my undies in the wash every 4 days. And that is irritating.
-We also went to Wal Mart on Saturday. Bad idea. Aside from the mall, I don't know a worse place someone could be the Saturday before Christmas. And people didn't go to shop for 2 or 3 things - no, people had their baskets brimming with toys, and beef sticks, and whateverthehell else people buy the Saturday before Christmas. I had just a tiny bit of anxiety. Especially when every line I got in seemed to be longer than the one I had just ditched. Maybe I should stop trying to line hop, because no matter where I go, there is some moron who doesn't know how to use a self-checkout, or has 4,739,248,920,849,208,492,308 coupons to redeem, or has 3 items without prices. Or maybe I just need to stop shopping at Wal Mart.
-In my meager attempt to become a master of the kitchen, I made indoor s'mores - and they were delicious. (Minus the fact that I got a little Pam happy with the dish I set them in.) Golden Grahams, marshmallows, chocolate chips, corn syrup, and butter. Drool. I realize that my dog could have made them. Blind. But still. Baby steps. Soon I'll be making soufflé and... other fancy sounding things.
-I walked into my room to find this:
Thanks for that, husband. Let's not squash any of the spiders in our home. Let's save them.
-Saturday night consisted of an embarrassing amount of time farting around on FrontierVille. When we could have, you know, showered or something. After that week of finals though, I would have been perfectly content to stare at a ceiling for 2 hours. I feel so exhausted.
-Our friends finally came over to watch a movie. We watched Despicable Me, while half of the guys sat and drank non-alcoholic beer. Only in Utah.
-Sunday brought multiple church meetings and an extended family Christmas party. We brought our pretzel Jell-o salad (which, by the way, didn't look like throw up this time) and some indoor s'mores. I have a feeling that those will be the only desserts I "cook" for any party. Ever.
-My family goes all out on the Christmas party. Tons of food. White elephants (which, by the way, my family was sure that Shawn and I brought something completely inappropriate - which we totally didn't. Unfortunately.) Talent show. Sometimes even a nativity production. And of course, stories from grandpa. As the talent show approached, Shawn and I panicked a little bit because the only (appropriate) talent we had worth showing was sleeping in the bathroom back at our house. So I tried to hurry and jot down a quick poem, because I'm good at poetry, remember? Okay, so not really. But still. I couldn't really get past the first few lines - so I gave up. We sat and watched as my younger cousins busted out all sorts of talent. Shakespeare monologues, piano pieces, singing, cellos, guitars, tambourines, banjos - and I think my favorite one was my little cousin who played the harp - the tiniest, cutest little harp ever. So finally they got to Shawn and I, and you want to know what our talent was? We spelled Merry Christmas with our butts. Yeah. How's that for talent? Needless to say, we plan on being better prepared next year. Cough.
Let's celebrate with a fun story from last weekend.
And it may or may not be concerning my female anatomy.
(Seriously, if you don't want to hear about it. Do. not. read. it.)
So, it had been a while since my last waxing escapade. Like, seriously a long time. The wookie jokes from my husband dearest were getting rather irritating - so I finally decided to buck up and make another appointment for that Saturday to get a little downtown landscaping done - because admittedly, it was getting a little gnarly down there. The waxing lady texted me a couple hours later and asked if I could switch my appointment to a little later, and that she'd wax my armpits for free for having to change the appointment - I let her know that I doubt there was enough hair on my armpits to wax, but that I'd let her do my eyebrows. YES. Free stuff. (Sidenote: I really don't understand people that wax their pits - they take literally like 2 seconds to shave?)
Courtesy of Google Images
Saturday rolls around and I ask Shawn if he wants to come with me - mostly because I wanted him to witness the tear-inducing pain that is bikini waxing - which I could later use as leverage when the wookie jokes started to resurface. Some might think that's awkward. (Actually, some of our friends, after recounting this particular experience, were absolutely floored that Shawn witnessed the entire thing.) But, really now - there's not much of me that my husband hasn't seen. So I don't really see the issue.
Anyways, we show up and the waxing lady is as chipper as ever, which is mildly surprising to me, because I'm just about positive I couldn't be cheerleader chipper after handling a double digit amount of vaginas and other hairy body parts. Just saying. She sees Shawn and asks me if I want to face the other direction, to which I give her a puzzled look and reply, "I'm sure he's seen all there is to see down there, and if he sees something new, I've already given him permission to shoot it." She then instructs me to "Drop your drawers, honey!" And after she leaves the room I throw my pants and undies to Shawn while mumbling under my breath how much I hate when girls call me by pet names. Maybe she felt like she could though, since you know, we've shared some fairly intimate moments together there on the waxing table.
I immediately start sweating bullets when she walks back in, because there's just something about the anticipation of piping hot wax on my goods that gives me a little bit of anxiety. Shawn is instantly entranced when the waxing lady instructed me to "frog" my leg and spread wax all over. She continued to do her thing - and Shawn just sat there, looking a little bit nervous that she was going to rip my entire vagina off.
This time was different than the others, though. It hurt way more than it usually did. I cursed a little bit more than I normally do - and at one point I sat up and literally screamed out in agonizing pain. Usually she compliments me on how well I handle myself, but I received no such comfort this time. Instead she told my husband and I of stories about how she went to her hometown to see an old friend working as a stripper. Or the time she was waxing another ladies goods and as she pulled the strip of pubic hair off, it landed on and stuck to her bare arm. Clearly, a glamorous job she's got there. After telling me a story about a couple that came in to get a "his and hers" wax, I noticed that she was still waxing, when normally she'd be done by now. And that's when I felt her going a couple strips farther than she had in the past. Nervously I asked, "So um, we're doing the bikini that I had scheduled.... right?" She immediately stopped, and looked at me like a dear looks into oncoming traffic. I cursed in my mind. She cursed out loud. And Shawn just sat there, looking as confused as ever.
She had given me a Brazilian. Good holy Batman, she had given me a Brazilian.
After cursing a few more times, and apologizing profusely, she announced that I was going to be "bare as a baby." I almost cried. But instead of bitching her out, I shot evil darts at my husband - who knew I had no intention of ever getting a Brazilian - yet said nothing as she continued to rip every last pubic hair out of my lady. She was pretty much at the point of no return, and had to finish up what she had started. And let me tell you Internet, I never want hot wax in those creases ever. again.
She then had me flip to my side, so she could perform the infamous butt crack wax. And I gotta be honest - that was a little embarrassing to have my husband there. I don't go around spreading my butt cheeks for even him to see. No one should have to see that. Ever. But nevertheless, I had the death grip on my cheek to keep from sealing my ass shut while simultaneously commanding Shawn to look away, or die.
She finally finished downstairs - and moved to my eyebrows. I cracked all sorts of jokes about her doing a Brazilian on my face - my passive aggressive way of letting her know how depressed I was about my downstairs. Luckily, she did a lovely job on the eyebrows (she does a lovely job on everything else too, just not exactly what I had ordered.)
She finally finished, and continued apologizing until she left the room for me to get dressed again. I stood up, completely terrified of what I was going to see in the mirror. And when I finally got the nerve to look, I was horrified. It was gone. Every single last pubic hair that I've been growing since the delicate age of 12, gone. I looked at my husband for approval, and he nodded his head and smiled. How could he be smiling?! I looked like a seven year old. He added, "At least you have something to blog about now!" Great. Just great.
Yeah, it was like that. (By the way, when I watched this episode, I laughed for about 15 minutes straight after this classy one liner from Maw Maw.)
Needless to say I was near tears. She came back in, still apologizing. I paid her, and we were off. I whined the entire way home about my hairless crotch. (I'm running out of appropriate terms for 'vagina' here.) Shawn, bless his heart, assured me that I didn't look like a pre-pubescent child - and that my vagina didn't look like an alien. (Seriously. And just when I thought women were the cuter gender.)
Internet, do you get Brazilian waxes? If so, why? Because the only differences I notice is that my farts are louder, and I pee all over my butt cheeks now. Oh, and have I mention how ridiculous it looks? Call me old-fashioned, but I like a little somethin somethin down there - obviously I don't need a full blown jungle - but, you know.
Anyways - I think I'm just going to stop there.
Sometimes I think I should put the Content Warning on my blog.
So I figured since I just wasted about on hour harvesting my crops on damn FrontierVille, I could squeeze in a small post - even though I should be studying for my last final. But why study when you can blog and harvest crops? That's my motto.
Anyways, since you already know that my husband and I have become slaves to the last couple weeks of school, this post will be dedicated to what Toby's been up to. Because yes, I'm that annoying pet blogger that you love to hate.
So just in case you were wondering what our little fur dude's favorite past times in the last little while are, here you go - all with the professional touch of my phone's camera. (Because I'm too effing lazy to put batteries and a new memory card in our piece of garbage camera.)
He eats our blinds.
No amount of bitter apple spray will keep him away from those babies.
He eats ourshoes.
He eats our lotion.
And yes, it now comes out all the holes.
And that sounded a lot more awkward than I originally intended. Not that I intended it to be awkward. But, you know.
He eats our couch.
Luckily we have a couch cover. The only reason he got to this part (which is shown sideways, because Blogger is special) is because we washed our couch cover one day, and it was like unveiling a gold mine for Toby. The fact that he goes into stealth mode when he destroys our crap, doesn't help the situation either.
He eats toilet paper.
And then spreads it from Hell to breakfast.
He eats toothbrushes from the shower.
Luckily Shawn had a brand spanking new electric toothbrush neatly wrapped under the tree for me. Talk about nice timing.
He eats paper, garbage, and shoe soles.
Then won't let us sweep, because he thinks that the broom is a product of Satan.
Anyone else sense a trend?
For the love.
When he isn't massacring our house he is pretending he forgot how to go up the stairs.
And just when I'm about to sell him to the circus, he does adorable things like this:
And then, despite all his shenanigans, he graduates his puppy training class!
Even though I'm definitely not wearing makeup in this picture, I love it.
Aren't you glad I got a dog?
Anyways, I'll try to take it easy on the dog posts for the next little while. It just gets hard when you have the world's most irritating/adorable puppy. We'll get back to my regularly scheduled crack waxes and trips to the doctor in no time.
And just in case you're wondering, my husband and I just pounded a medium BBQ chicken pizza from Pizza Hut. It's almost midnight, and I think my husband just passed out on the floor.
♫I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth.♫
Oh, sorry. Is that annoying? (I think I very secretly like this song. But only because it gives me an excuse to whip my hair back and forth. Finally.)
Don't even get me started on that makes-you-want-to-kick-a-baby BlackandYellow BlackandYellow BlackandYellow song. Seriously? At this rate, I could become a rapper. (That's a fun mental image. Wait, this doesn't have to be a mental image...)
I just need to pick some clever words and say them over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over again. Oh, and grab my crotch. I'm waiting with anticipation for the genius lyrical masters that grace the Earth's surface when I have children. Yeesh.
Anyways... I'm going to go ahead and bullet the rest of this one out.
-Sometimes my job is really boring. Like really boring. (Disclaimer: I'm glad I have a job, and it's a good one - just occasionally makes me want to jump out a window to stay awake.) Because of this, I sometimes do really embarrassing things. Like play Frontierville on Facebook. I know, right? I somehow managed to talk my husband into getting one too, so we could be losers together. I actually just took a video of him intently trying to figure out where to put his cabin, until he caught me - and wrestled me to the ground until he got the camera and deleted it. Apparently Frontierville is something to be very embarrassed about.
-Toby doesn't have to wear his cone anymore. I don't think he's ever been so thrilled to lick his balls.
-Finals are this week and next. And I'm totally procrastinating.
-We went to a party that our friend threw this weekend - we were the only married couple present. There was a pool of 60ish single people everywhere. Situations like that make me miss being single for about 5 seconds, until I remember how awkward and irritating dating was. Then I'm cool being the awkward married broad in the middle of the dance circle. Life is so much better when you aren't trying to impress anyone.
-Turns out hot chocolate makes me want to throw up. How wrong is that? I just can't stomach it for some reason - it's just too much chocolate, or something. I feel depressed now. (And Taylor, to answer your question that I know you'll ask, no I'm not pregnant.)
-I bought two of Shawn's Christmas gifts on Black Friday - while he was standing there, watching. They were tools, obviously things that I never would have bought on my own. They were a super good deal, although still rather pricey. Shawn told me I couldn't get him anything else for Christmas, because I had already spent enough. Hello? What is Christmas when you know exactly what you're getting? Psh. Plus, he has about 28394038290 presents under the tree for me. I'd feel like the worst wife ever if he only had two presents to open. Because yes, I wrapped them, even though he knows exactly what they are. So, basically I spent more money on more presents. Because money grows on trees, right? What did you do for your first married Christmas - one big present or lots of small presents?
-I just realized that my Jeep has those special buttons on the back of my steering wheel that change the stations and volume. Needless to say I was thrilled. Once when I was like, twelve, my young women's leader told me that her radio was voice activated. When we said "Volume up," the volume magically went up. When we said a certain radio station, it would magically go to that radio station. I didn't find out that it wasn't voice activated til I was about 18, when I casually mentioned to another girl that was in the same car, "Remember her voice activated radio? How cool was that?" After laughing herself off her seat, she told me the truth. I've never felt more unintelligent in my life.
-I saw Tangled, and loved it. Such a good show. Like, seriously.
And since I have about 7 hours worth of lectures to watch - and dinner to make my starving husband, who is probably famished from all that hardwork he's been doing on his Frontier. *Snort*
Night, Internet. Don't let the bed bugs bite. (Like seriously. Those things are nasty ass little bugs. Google it. I dare you.)
Remember that camcorder I got my husband for his birthday. Well, I've been having a blast with it - making probably the most boring videos ever to grace the internet. I told Shawn that something amusing is bound to happen while I'm recording. And when it does, I'll submit it to America's Funniest Home Videos, and we'll win thousands of dollars. Sounds ideal, right? So until then, I'll continue recording super lame videos - and probably showing them to you, Internet. Because clearly I have nothing better to do with my life.
I actually tried recording a phone conversation I was having with Shawn while he was on speaker - because I thought, hey, our conversations are pretty funny. Maybe I'll start a new thing on my blog where the internet can listen to our conversations. Becausewho doesn't love eavesdropping on a good phone conversation? The conversation I was recording was fairly amusing and appropriate - that is until he made reference to testicles, and ruined my whole plan. (Don't get me wrong, I thought the reference was hilarious, mostly because I was recording it - but it was maybe a smidgen inappropriate for the blog - that my 9 year old sister reads.)
So here are some of the videos off my Shawn's camcorder - that aren't quite AFV material yet. (Like seriously, there are pretty boring. You should only watch these if you're supremely bored.)
This is our kick-ass Christmas tree. And my husband, wearing long johns - which I clearly think is the most amusing thing ever. (If at any point it looks like he's air humping, maybe just ignore that.) And, of course, Toby with the cone of shame - he officially can no longer reproduce.
(I realize I sound super cruel at how much I laugh at Toby and his cone. But it is seriously the most hilarious(/depressing) thing ever. He ran into walls constantly for the first few days.
This is Toby's famous, "If I don't move maybe she'll forget that I'm being a bad dog" move. And then the, "Hurry and lay down and act like I wasn't doing anything" move.
YouTube suggested I tag this video with "kitten." WTF? Could this video be any less kitten?
Again with the lame Toby videos. He absolutely loves snow. And although his cone totally complicates things - it doesn't stop him.
My husband may or may not take his pants off in this video.
Note: I'm not proud of my insults in this video. Don't judge me.
Also, Shawn wasn't compensated by Arby's for his uncomfortable display of their sandwich. Which is unfortunate, really.
Okay, so those were mostly dog videos - and that's kind of makes me feel super lame. But hey, practice makes perfect. One of these days I'll be recording Toby and he'll do a back flip... or something.
I've never been more royally steamed at my husband than I was a couple weeks ago.
And of all things, it was over football. Football.
Anyone who knows me knows how apathetic I am when it comes to most sports. I'm the girl that cheers when everyone else cheers, even though I have no idea why I'm cheering. The girl who is constantly asking people to decode ref sign language when they start flailing their arms around. The girl who spends more time judging the cheerleaders, than watching the game. The girl who screams "Touchdown!" during a baseball game, just to turn heads. The girl who lofts a basketball from half court rather than passing it to someone that can actually get it through the hoop. The girl who would be the last player on a team in dodgeball every time by not doing a damn thing. Do we get the gist, Internet? I wasn't exactly blessed with profound knowledge or skill of sports.
The only two recent exceptions are Jazz games and University of Utah football games. Especially when the University of Utah is playing BYU.
I've mentioned the colossal rivalry that exists between the University of Utah and BYU before.
I've probably also mentioned that I was born and raised a Utah fan, while my husband is a die-hard, BYU fanatic.
(High five for anyone who can guess where this is going.)
Now, you should know that I have no problem rooting for BYU, when they aren't playing the U. This somehow tricks my husband into thinking that I'm not a "real" Utah fan - and that I'll become a part of BYU's fan base in no time. Our marriage has, in fact, done just the opposite. I've never been a more hard core Utah fan than I am since I married Shawn. If we ever get into a legitimate argument, it's usually because we're bitching about who's team is better, or has better fans. Clearly we are super mature. Needless to say, it's a touchy topic in our house - so I do my best to avoid it.
However, avoiding it isn't always easy. Especially when I come home to find my husband has painted over the U on our curb. Or when my husband tries to convince me that there's a difference between being a student at the U, and being a fan. Or when he tries to purchase a BYU stocking for Christmas. Or when I come home to a butt-ton of BYU coasters on our coffee table. (Which Toby ripped to pieces. *Cough*)
However, none of that is as bad as what I came home to a few weeks ago. I've never been more furious with my husband than I was when I came home and found him putting a big ass, lit up, blazing Y on our roof. The only worse thing he could have done was burn a Y into our grass and dump buckets of blue paint on our house. (I realize it's petty, but you have to know how competitive and stubborn I can get to understand why I was so peeved.)
Crappy picture. But eh.
Had I done the same thing with a U, I feel he probably would have set fire to our roof. That's mostly why I was mad. I let him keep it up there, but fully warning him there would be payback. I planned on putting an even bigger U on the other side of our house - but snow kind of ruined that plan. (Just like snow ruins virtually everything else.)
Game day finally came - when I had the best epiphany ever.
Needless to say, Shawn and I didn't watch that game together.
Which is probably a good thing.
Because guess who won?
That would be me The Utes.
It should be noted that BYU did play a good game.
Just not good enough to win.
Holy mackerel. I feel like I haven't blogged in over a century. About 9,573 things happened this weekend that I could blog about. Okay, not really - but almost. So we'll just start with Thanksgiving - because I know people are dying to read about what I managed to cook/bake/destroy for dinner. (Or lunch - I never really understood why people eat Thanksgiving at 2 in the afternoon and call it dinner. I guess "Thanksgiving lunch" sounds mildly ridiculous in comparison. Whatever.)
The stuff I made wasn't all too grandeur - no turkey, stuffing, casseroles or pies for me. (My dad says that making turkeys is actually one of the easier things to make - to which I respectfully scoffed at in my mind. Because I'm almost certain the day I decide to make a turkey, is the day I burn our entire house to the ground.) No, my mother-in-law gave us about the simplest food assignment possible. (Aside from bringing a can of cranberry sauce.) We were in charge of the Jell-o/fruit salad. I'm fairly certain that my dog could make a fruit salad - so I decided to kick it up a notch and try for pretzel Jell-o salad. Sounds weird, right? Turns out it's really yummy - and easy enough for me to make and not completely mess it up. I say completely, because yes, I did manage to kind of mess it up. And you can go ahead and ask my husband - I threw myself a little diva tantrum because my Jell-o salad didn't look exactly like the ones on Google Images. I maintain that the top layer of Jell-o looked like someone chewed it all up then spit it back out on top. (The recipe said to leave the Jell-o mixture out for a second to let it cool off a bit. "A second" was just about a second too long and the Jell-o already started forming. Already formed Jell-o isn't exactly easy to spread.) So Shawn finally convinced my that my Jell-o didn't look like throw up and I kind of got over it. The only redeeming factor is that it tasted good. Damn good. Check me out - Pretzel Jell-o Salad Master.
Anyways - here's the picture I took with my phone, because naturally my real camera decided to die.
I didn't take a picture of the layers - and that's the best part. Fear not, there will be a video.
And because this was our first Thanksgiving, and I sort of wanted to prove that I'm capable of concocting more than one edible item for Thanksgiving, we made my favorite fruit salad ever. Snickers salad. *Drool* Apples, Snickers, and Cool Whip. Oh yeah, smell the weight gain.
So, doesn't really look like much - but it's good. Promise.
I had been hankering to make one last thing - because clearly I'm trying to prove something here. And let me tell you, I've never been so proud of something that has come out of my kitchen. I channeled my inner Martha Stewart and made some turkey cupcakes. Because really, who eats cupcakes for Thanksgiving? I beamed with pride as family members took pictures of my cupcakes and complimented me on how cute they were. (It should be noted that I've been making this sound like I made everything myself. I didn't. My husband helped. But I'm going to keep making it sound like I made everything. Because it makes me feel cooler.) Anyways, our turkeys were the star of Thanksgiving. And you can betcher bottom dollar I found my holiday tradition. Helloooo, Christmas cupcakes.
Again with the crappy phone quality. My bad.
If you think those things were so meticulous that they made us a half hour late to Thanksgiving - you are so, so right. They're super adorable though, right? And now you're kind of jealous you didn't have turkey cupcakes at your Thanksgiving, right?
Just in case you didn't get it the first time. We've got an Oreo, a Reese's Cup, a Whopper, Candy Corn, and frosting. Gosh, I'm so proud. I feel like I should have put them in a glass case purely for display. Okay. I'll stop now.
Anyways - Thanksgiving was good. I'd be lying if I said I didn't really miss eating with my family though. I missed my dad's stuffing, and Aunt Cathy's desserts, and basically everyone else's cooking - because it's better than mine. Except for the cupcakes, obviously. (Okay, I take that back, Cathy, you could probably make one heck of a turkey cake. Let's have a bake off. ;)) But I did have a good time with my husband's family, and I did get to spend time with my family as well - so it all turned out well. It was a wonderful first Thanksgiving to spend with my husband and our families. Wee!
And as for the video...
Don'tcha feel like you were there?
I hope you all had a superb Thanksgiving! Welcome back to real life. And if you're in Utah, happy shoveling that crap ton of snow off your driveway. Three fist pumps for Winter! (You know, or not.)
I've still got some mildly amusing things to tell you about our weekend. Be excited.
So since it seems I missed doing the all-elusive clichéd, "It's my husband's birthday so I'm going to write all the reasons why he's cool on my blog" post - I'm going to do it now. Mostly because my husband rules. And we all know how much I love publicly bragging about him.
So these are some of the reasons that I'm glad Shawn was born 23 whopping years ago....
He stays up and gossips with me in bed when I'm 99.9% positive he'd rather be participating in other activities.
He cleans up ourbedroom carpet on hand and knee when Toby manages to sprinkle pee ev-uh-ry-where. (I'm not even exaggerating here - you could not step anywhere without stepping in urine. I don't even know how that's possible. Damn canine. *Cough* I digress.)
He makes me lunches - usually with enough food that could feed me lunch for 4 days.
He doesn't yell at me when I ask him 8,000 questions during movies. Yeah, I'm one of those people.
He gives me butt kisses every night. (And I feel completely weird not explaining this. It isn't as kinky/awkward/nasty as it sounds. It's simply when we have to turn our separate ways to go to sleep, he taps his butt against mine and says "Butt kiss!" ...Okay, so maybe it's a little awkward.) But I think it's funny - and I wouldn't want a butt kiss from anyone else. I think I just found my husband's new pet name.
He shovels the crap loads of snow off our driveway - without throwing a tantrum like his wife would.
He lets me stand under the water for the majority of our showers.
He tells me my pooch is perfect size. Even though I'm certain I look no less than 3 months pregnant.
He teaches me about football and basketball so I don't sound like a complete tool when I talk about it with other people. Who knew there were field goals in basketball?
He doesn't judge me when I polish 2 rows of Coconut Dreams. (And if he does, he's smart enough to do it behind my back.)
He sits on the same side of the booth as me at restaurants. Every time.
Among so many other reasons, of course you have all the obvious reasons. You know, the reasons I married him - his good looks and his money. I kid. I love my husband more than I love anything on this earth. Yes, more than Coconut Dreams. He is my rock. He is my everything. (Careful, I'm about to break out into a country song.) He is a better husband than I could have ever asked for - and I know he'll be an even better dad some day. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather grow old and wrinkly with.