Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
This last weekend mostly sucked balls.
So there I was, working from the comfort of my own home when all of a sudden I hear a super high pitched humming sound coming from somewhere in our house. Being on a call, I couldn't just tell the customer, "I'm pretty sure my house is going to blow up in 5 seconds, please hold." So I finished the call and went outside my office and smelled something burning. Great. The noise stopped for a minute, but then came back even louder. I finally try turning off the AC, and the noise stops. Bingo. Turns out the motor on our 6 year old furnace decided to bite the dust. Which is just great, when you live in a desert, in the beating hot middle of the damn summer. I do absolutely terrible in heat. Sweat is not my friend. And when I'm sweating like a hooker in the Cistine Chapel in my own home, I whine. Like a 2 year old. Especially when I'm drugged up on lady hormone pills. Let me tell you, menopause-like hot flashes in 90 degree house weather does not equal anything pleasant. For anyone. Ever.
Long story short, it took a whopping $600 to fix our AC. Because, you know, we have 600 dollars just laying around.
The stupid, blasted, $#@$#@%@$@$#@$#@%#$ Hurricane Irene. Yeah, I live in Utah. I didn't have to deal with the actual weather (and I sincerely hope everyone that DID have to deal with the weather, is okay), but working for an airline, I had to deal with every single pompous jackass who was sure that they were entitled to more than we could offer them. We cancelled flights for three days, and when you have to tell people that they can't fly home for another week due to all the flights already being full, people go batshit crazy. I know these people need to get home, I understand it's super frustrating. But if I don't have a seat on a plane to put you on, there's nothing I can do. So many people think that we can just pull magic wands out our ass to create a seat for them. Or that because they have jobs, and school, and super important things to attend to - they should have priority over everyone else. NEWSFLASH: Everyone else is trying to get home for the same. exact. reasons. I would literally shake during certain calls, where I had to just sit there and listen to people telling me to screw myself, and other fun things. And apparently I'm still bitter.
So between hundreds of customers screaming at me, telling me that I've personally destroyed their life, and the mandatory overtime I've had to work over the weekend - needless to say, there have been tears. And lots of swear words.
My Jeep starting making this weird clicking noise whenever I'd accelerate. And obviously something is wrong with it. I took it in somewhere to get a code pulled, to see if that would tell us what was wrong with it. And the guy was basically a huge incompetent moron, and said he didn't know what it was. So when we came to pick the Jeep back up, Shawn's car overheated. Keep in mind, this is happening the same day our AC went out.
Shawn takes his car to get looked at, they tell him it has something to do with his thermostat. And since it's a BMW thermostat, it instantly costs 32904832904832904823904 dollars more. Or $500, if we're being honest. I fully expected the part to plated top to bottom in gold. They finally call us back on Monday and tell us they've installed the new thermostat, and his car is still overheating. Soooo, you just charged us out our ass for a new thermostat that we didn't even need? Solid job, Firestone.
So we still haven't gotten the Jeep looked at, because it's in better condition than the BMW currently. And now we have to take Shawn's car somewhere else to find out what kind of ungodly amount of cash we'll have to pay for that repair.
Before any of this happened, Shawn had secretly planned out this super romantic weekend for us. There wasn't anything special to celebrate, he just wanted to do it because he's the best husband in the history of ever. He had a room booked at Anniversary Inn, massage appointments made, and we were going to go watch Tangled up at the Capitol "under the stars." We ended up having to cancel the massage appointment because the AC guy was still at our house. I gave them my sob story, and luckily they let us switch it to later that night. We go get our massages and decide to run to Wendy's to get some food, and then try to watch maybe the tail-end of Tangled.
So we walk into Wendy's and there's about 749 volleyball players in line. So we decide to just go through the drive through. While we were waiting, I decided it would be fun to play Farkle (the overly-addicting dice game). Shawn was paying attention to the dice and accidentally let off the brake pedal just enough that he rear ended the person in front of us. Because apparently we hadn't had enough curve balls for one day.
Luckily it was only some minor scratches, and the woman was totally nice about it. But it was enough send my poor husband completely over the edge. On top of that, by the time we finally got to the Capitol, everyone was leaving.
My fifth reason is going to be the "mostly" part of our absolutely turd luck weekend. Because even though most of it sucked royal ass, it wasn't all bad. We stayed in the Jungle Safari room at the Anniversary Inn, and the shower was an elephant! Best. kindofmostawkward. shower ever. Once we got over the shock of just how bad our day was, we were able to enjoy ourselves at the hotel. At this point, we can actually look back and laugh at it. Because seriously? Who has that bad of luck, all in one day. I like to think of it as a good test of our relationship, to see how we'd cope with all the crap life threw at us. And I think we did a pretty damn good job of handling it. GOLD STAR for Team Milne! And we definitely noticed the Lord's tender mercies along the way. All the overtime I had to work, is definitely going to help out our bank account. And we had some money leftover from Shawn's school loan that we could have used if we absolutely needed to. And even though Shawn thinks his plans went all wrong. I think that fun overnight stay couldn't have happened at any better time.
And also? We have a 4 in 2 billion chance of winning $5,000 dollars a week for the rest of our lives on Wednesday from Publisher's Clearinghouse. Our fortunes from Panda Express have us convinced we're going to win. Because, hello, that's likely. Besides, who am I to argue with Panda Express?
Anyways. Basically, our weekend sucked - but it could have been totally worse. We survived. And all signs point to winning millions of dollars. So I suppose we can't really complain.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
I will never participate in a (legitimate) beauty pageant.
About a week ago, one of my friends asked if I'd go with her to a local beauty pageant her friend was participating in. Now I'm not huge on the whole world of pageants, but who am I to decline a night of judging a bunch of girls competing for a crown? (Literally, I scored them all on a scale of 1-10 on my program for each category. I'm legit, yo. Or really lame. Whatever. The program was about 1,847 hours long. I had to keep myself interested somehow.) Anyways, I've always told this friend I went with, that the only way I'd ever participate in a beauty pageant was to improve someone else's chances of winning. I have nothing against women who are into competing in pageants, it's just not my thing. At all.
And this is why.
Reason 1: Evening Wear
Any evening wear I still own consists of a prom dress, and my wedding dress. I'm fairly certain I don't even fit into the prom dress anymore, and although my wedding dress is bitchin', I can't imagine that's what they're going for. The one and only "pageant" I've ever participated in was one a fraternity was putting on, so they could select their "Mu 8 Cow Woman" for the year. (And now that I look back on it, sounds more like a fat joke than anything.) Anyways, they told us all we needed to be dressed in evening wear for the "pageant". So, of course, wanting to impress the men of Mu, I showed up in my evening best.
Yeah. That happened.
Because obviously evening wear encompasses anything comfortable enough to sleep in.
Reason 2: Talent
If you don't sing, dance, or play the piano like mother freakin' Beethoven - you probably don't have any talents. I kid. But that is pretty much all I've ever seen at the pageants I've been to, with a few exceptions. While some girls are stellar performers, the other are... well... not. I can honestly say I don't have any talents that would score me a crown. Well, any appropriate talents anyway. For the fraternity pageant, I went with poetry as my talent. Self-created poetry, because I'm hard core. Oh? You want to read the poem I wrote? OKAY!
Roses are red
Mu is so neat
Being here with yo, is simply a treat
All of you guys are such handsome young fellas
Any other dude ought to be extremely jealous
For this fraternity is blessed with charm and good looks
The type of men that we only read of in books
I mean, seriously guys, take a big look around
All these girls lined up, in hopes to be your crowned
But alas, only one will earn the right
To be named Mu's 8 Cow Woman on this very night
But who will you choose? It should be a wise decision
One made with much insight, common sense, and precision
The chosen girl must be crazy, and fun, though not too weird
She should be smart, and confident, but definitely not feared
Now I'll give you some advice, and I think you'll agree
That clearly the best choice, is the one and only me
For I am all of the above mentioned features
I'm definitely one of a kind out of all of God's creatures
I'll try to make you laugh til you pee in your pants
I'm caring and thoughtful and I know how to dance
Life gave you a lemon, baby I'm your lemonade
I'm the queen to your castle, the ace to your spade
And if you don't end up choosing me, that's just fine
Because I'm not worth eight cows, I'm worth nine.
Pretty superb poetry, amiright? However something tells me my poems might not fly in an actual pageant environment. Their loss, my poems are far more entertaining than watching a handful of girls pretend they can sing and dance well. Or maybe not. My whole idea of "talent" has been completely tainted by the likes of shows like America's Got Talent and So You Think You Can Dance.
Reason 3: Swimsuit Competition
If there is one thing that gives me nightmares, it's the thought of ever having to do any sort of swimsuit competition. I can barely get in a swimsuit in the comfort of my own home without having a complete meltdown. Add in a pair of high heels and every ounce of bare skin jiggles when you walk. Even the girl who looks like she hasn't eaten for 7 months jiggles. It'd be like the damn Macy's Day Parade gone terribly, terribly awry if I were to ever prance across a stage half naked in heels. Sort of makes me want to throw up a little just thinking about it. The only way I'd ever compete in a swimsuit is if I could wear a full body suit, complete with flippers. But I've been informed that is now against the rules. Props to the chick who is the reason that rule is in place.
Reason 4: Interview Question
If there's any part of a pageant where I have the most respect for the girls competing, it's during the interview questions. Some of those questions are hard. At least for people like me, who barely have a surface knowledge of current government events. I notice that most the girls more or less just repeat the question in answer form when they don't have a good answer. I'm not even sure I'd be able to spit that out. I'm pretty certain I'd wet myself a little and crack an inappropriate joke. My favorite part of watching this portion of the competition, is that couple seconds after the question has been read, the look on the girl's faces who have no idea what the answer is. Talk about crapping a small brick.
Reason 5: Eligibility
So, I'm married. And apparently that's an instant disqualifier in pageant world. Darn.
So basically in a nut shell, I don't think I could take the pageant seriously enough to have any sort of competitive edge. Which is fine, there are plenty more women who deserve a crown much more than I do.
Oh, and also?
Turns out a personality was all I needed to get a crown in my pageant.
You know that's right.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
Surprise! Still not done. For whatever reason, the last part of our video was in some random arse format that we couldn't splice in Windows Movie Maker. I was so close to just getting my own video camera and video taping it on our TV from the couch - that's how much I wanted you to see it. Brushing aside the fact that my husband thought it was the lamest idea in the history of ever. What does he know anyway. (Love you tons, husband.) So the other day I was farting around on the internet, as per usual, and found a free trial of a DVD ripper that claimed to be able to convert the certain format this video was in, to the right format. The only problem is that there is an annoying watermark right in the middle of the video the whole time (you know, because of the free trial and everything). I wasn't really in the mood to pay 40 bucks to get rid of a watermark, so you're pretty much just going to have to deal with it.
This is one of my favorite parts of the video, because it has our awesome dance in it. Because honestly, do you think we're really the type of people who just slow danced and bored the life out of everyone for 4 and a half minutes? Yeah, not so much. Needless to say, our guests were thoroughly entertained. (The whole dance isn't in there, but I promise you'll get the gist. We have a video of the whole thing - but the audio is pretty much terrible.)
If you managed to miss the first six, yes six, installments of our kick ass video - follow ze links below!
(PS - I love that YouTube stop framed it on my Quiet Coyote. Snort.)
Super awesome, right?