Thursday, October 25, 2012

Minute to Pin It: A Game That Turns Into An Impromptu Life Lesson

So today seems like a good day to play a game, amiright?  I have a super fun* one for ya'll.  I made up all by myself, so you know it's going to be legendary*.  And because every game needs a title, I call this one, "Minute to Pin It" - a title which literally has nothing to do with how you play the game, but it doesn't even matter, because it's awesome sounding.  And surprise, it's brought to you by Pinterest.  Because obviously no one saw that coming.


How do you play this super fun* game?  It goes a little something like this: Look at two pictures, and decide which one is from Pinterest, and which one I made myself.  Boom.  Epic.*  So, since I know you're dying to play*, your two pictures are below...



Try not to think too hard about it.  Even though they're pretty much identical.*  

Okay.  So, I'm 500% sure you all win - congratu-freakin'-lations.  This is just yet another reason Pinterest pisses me the hell off.  Way to set unrealistic expectations, you crafty A holes.  I set out on this particular venture, pretty optimistic that I was going to finally win at Pinterest.  Any project with a brownie, pretzels, marshmallows and a stick can't be too hard. right?

The website didn't really give much detail on how they put the skeletons together, because, um, yeah.  However, they did say that they used ganache on the brownies.  Because I know what ganache is.*

I debated with myself for like an hour on whether or not I wanted to drive back to WalMart for the 700th time to pick up the stuff to make it.  And I finally decided that if my skeletons were going to look as good as the internet's, I had to make whatever the hell ganache was.  Most the recipes I found called for semi-sweet chocolate.  Which is unfortunate, because if you're going to eat semi-sweet chocolate, you may as well eat a foot dipped in turd.  But nevertheless, I didn't want to stray from what Google said, or else my skeletons would suck.  Plus, the internet said that semi-sweet was better, because then the brownies wouldn't be too sweet.  Because apparently that's a thing.

So, I made the ganache and poured it over my brownies and stuck 'em in the fridge so it would "set", or whatever ganache is supposed to do.  Then I had to draw faces on 30 marshmallows.  Because, yes, I was making 30 of these bad boys.  And apparently there's such things as editable food markers... Who knew?  So I went over to JoAnn's and literally walked up and down their little cake decorating aisle at least 47 times. And I stared right at the stupid markers for probably an hour before I found an employee to point out that if it were a snake, it would've bit me right in the ass.  Nuhr.  Kind of embarrassing, but it helped that she even had to stare at everything for a couple minutes before she saw them.  Anyways, I finally got home and drew all the faces on the marshmallows.  Which, as you can see, of course aren't nearly as cutesy and refined as the Pinterest ones - most of my skeletons looked more pissed off than anything.  Whatever.

I busted open one of the several bags of White Fudge Flipz pretzels that I got, and realized that they weren't nearly as white as the marshmallow or as the pretzels on the internet.  Because, I mean, why would they be?  That was a major OCD flare-up.  The whites not matching?


Anyways, after I put all the pretzels on, they kept spinning around the stick, so the only hope I had of making that part as perfect as the internet was super glue.  And last I checked, that stuff isn't exactly edible.  (Speaking of things that aren't edible, have you ever had those white fudge Flipz pretzels?  BARF.)

I put it altogether and was only marginally impressed, if that.  I decided that maybe it would look better if I put it in the stupid 99 cent bags I bought from WalMart - because trust me to not find the fancy cellophane wrap stuff.  So I tried sticking the whole thing in the bag and got the stupid GANACHE all. over. It was smeared pretty much from hell to breakfast... all around the bag, all over my hands, and I'm pretty sure Toby got some off the floor.  I was pretty much near tears at this point, thinking of having to put 29 more of these together.  Even so, I still put a ribbon on it, to try and resurrect any hope I had of these looking even kind of presentable.  Which is when I may or may not have had a teensy meltdown and catapulted my skeleton into the wall.

Shawn came in with the usual, "What now?" face, and I shoved the skeleton disaster in his face and pouted that it didn't look like Pinterest, and I didn't want to make any more.  Shawn looked around at all the dozens of marshmallows, brownies, and bags of pretzels that were strewn across the kitchen, and assured me that yes, I'd be making more.  He had to convince me for about an hour that the skeletons didn't look terrible, and that the ganache didn't taste like an asshole.  Because, oh yeah, it did.  I had made another pan of brownies that luckily weren't contaminated by the ganache - which is why the skeleton in the above picture, doesn't have frosting all over the bag.  

I finally stopped pouting, and decided to just finish the skeletons from what I had.  I didn't feel like baking another pan of brownies, so I ended up using the ones with the ganache - I figured, they were going to a bunch of senior citizens - and old people like gross food, so there was a pretty good chance that they'd like the brownies just fine.  And several hours later, they were all done.  I unfortunately had only taken a quick picture of one of them to show a friend, and not the whole lot of 'em.  But I was surprisingly more content with how they turned out.  You know, after Shawn showed me how to not get frosting all over the damn place when I put them in the bags.  

The next day was the Relief Society activity that I had planned and was going to bring these to.  We were going to visit with the residents in a close-by assisted living facility - and I wanted them to have treats.  Because Halloween means treats.  Even if you're 96 years old.  When the Relief Society sisters saw all the skeletons I had made, they gushed about how adorable they were - and how it was such a good idea.  And I suddenly felt like Martha freakin' Stewart.

We ended up playing Bingo with the Alzheimer's Unit of this particular facility.  And boy, was that a glimpse into my future.  There was a woman sitting at the table I was at, who - the entire time - yelled: "NEE NEE NEE NEE NEE NEE NEE NEE NEEEEEEEEE NENENENENE NEE NEE NEE NEE NEE NEE NEE" and then randomly burst into song.  When I asked her what her name was, she laughed really hard and said, "I don't remember!"  I later told Shawn, "That's totally going to be me some day."  And he responded with, "Some day?"  And it wasn't until about 5 minutes later that I realized he had totally just insulted me.  And he thought that was hilarious.  Thanks for that, Husband.  Anyways, I digress. 

All the women had such sweet spirits, even though many of them had no idea what was going on.  And the icing to this entire post was when we passed out the skeletons.  They. loved. them.  The women who could form coherent sentences just went on and on about how cute they were, and how they were going to show their grandchildren.  Other women inhaled the entire thing no sooner than I had given it to them.  They all seemed legitimately happy to get such an awesome treat.  And I suddenly wasn't worrying about the ganashe tasting like barf, or that the pretzels weren't perfectly lined up, or that they were in cheapo bags.  Because it just didn't matter.  They loved them.

Which brings me back to Pinterest.  I can't help that I'm such a perfectionist with things like this.  Because yes, I will cry if it doesn't look like the picture.  Which is why Pinterest is such a royal pain in my crack.  Why can't we just agree to post #2 pictures on there, right?  Aaaaand here comes a life lesson - which I'm probably saying more for myself, than for anyone.  But there's probably always going to be a #1 to your #2.  Comparing yourself and your life to the metaphorical Pinterests of the world, really won't do you much good.  Sure, it can help inspire you to be a better version of yourself - but that doesn't mean you need to beat yourself for not achieving absolute perfection.  Because turns out, Jesus is the only one that can do that.  I think perfection is in the eye of the beholder - which, sure, is cliche.  But it's a cliche for a reason.  It's true.  I may be stubborn, hormonal, and not a Victoria's Secret Angel.  But to my husband, I'm perfect.  And he may eat my leftovers, make Alzheimer's jokes at my expense, and pee in the shower.  But to me, he's perfect.  So no more comparing yourself, your life, and your skelepretzels to anyone else.  Find and refine your strengths, know and accept your weaknesses, and use that knowledge to be a version of yourself that makes you PROUD.

Who knew skelepretzels could by so inspirational?*

*Except not really.

Saturday, October 20, 2012

What Happens When People Google Butt Vitamins, Baby Wookies, & Fart Monologues

So, Shawn went out of town this weekend to do some fishing with his dad and buddy.  I didn't go because I have to work on Sunday.  Well, and because I think fishing is possibly one of the most boring things on the planet.  Not that I have much experience to back that statement up, but eh.

(Related: I totally realize it's pretty much Internet 101 to not announce to the entire freakin' world that you're home alone for the weekend.  So for the record, I have two fully grown men who are both bouncers living in my basement - one of which keeps a fully loaded gun under his bed.  Plus, ya'll saw what I did to our wall.  So, all the axe murders and skin coat makers should probably just stay the eff away. )

Anyways, today I decided to be semi-productive and clean our house, because my favorite time to clean is when I'm alone.  Well, no.  My favorite time to clean is never.  But, you know.  Anyways, I ended up losing my cleaning mojo about halfway through mopping our hardwood floors on my hands and knees.  That shit is exhausting.  It probably didn't help that I've eaten about 4 pounds of pre-Halloween candy in the last two days.  Yeah, pre-Halloween candy.  It's a thing.  So, that lands us to right now, where I've parked my keister in front of the computer and have been farting around on the internet for the last hour.  And you're probably wondering right about now if this post has a point, or if it's just another way to procrastinate finishing cleaning the house.  And, well, yes to both.  

I realized I hadn't looked at the search terms that have brought people to my blog for a while.  And it's been a while since I've dedicated a post to a handful of those pretty amusing searches.  (Remember this and this?)  So, I decided since I so obviously have the time to kill, I'd do another one.

It really has been a while since I've done one, and for the sake of brevity, I'll only go off of search terms from the last month or else we'd be here for eternity.  (Well, and because my analytics apparently exploded and didn't capture results for a while)  Sooo, here are some of the ones that I thought were mildly more amusing than the others.

"Bra on floor"/"Underwear on the floor"
You'd think this would just be a one-time search.  But alas, I've had several hits with that search.  What the random?  Why does the bra need to be on the floor?  And of course it always links to this post.

"Stinky ass munchkin"
Just another version of the infamous "munchkin cat" search.  Which is still the number one search term that brings people to my blog, for the record.  

See?  But still, why anyone is searching a 'stinky ass munchkin' is beyond me.

"Bizarre dream about insects covering my vagina"

"Each vitamin to use help my butt"
I sincerely hope this person's butt got the help it needed.  Butt vitamins.  Huh.

"Romantic squirting story"

"Normally I can take anything that life throws at me but lately I think I'm cracking up!"
Cool story, bro.

"Monologue about husband farting"
So, apparently my blog is the first result for this one.  Because yes, I checked.

"Sink peeing pair"
What does that even mean?!  (If Shawn were here, he'd answer with the infamous "No one knows what it means, but it's provocative" quote from Blades of Glory.  Because in our house, that's pretty much the answer to everything.)

Then we have all our Pap smear friends...

"Pap test 'tourettes'"
*Snort*  Can you imagine?  To be a fly on the wall...

"Passing out during pap smear"/"Passing out after pap smear"
Does this happen a lot?  Because I have several of these searches too.  Yeah, getting a medieval contraption shoved up your baby maker isn't the most pleasant thing in the world, but I can certainly think of worse things...

"Pap smears and peeing"
Okay.  I understand that this probably happens plenty.  But this is why you pee before your gynecologist gets all up in your business.  I would seriously be mortified.  Probably more mortified than I would be if I pooped while giving birth.  Because if you poop, people can't really judge you, you're pushing a tiny human out your vag.  But a pap smear?  Control your bladder, woman.

"Men in exam stirrups"
Why?  No one wants that.

"Sexy girls shooting a gun with ear protection"

Yeah.  That's right.  MY picture came up on the first page.  Yahtzee.

"Ass butts babble"
I think I speak for everyone when I say that no one wants to hear ass babble.

"Eyebrows reading rainbow"
Eyebrows?  How is that even kind of relevant?

"Wookie baby"
So this search was undoubtedly directed to this post.  But I think they were probably looking more for this:

What. The. Hell!?  That is one creepy ass hardcore costume.  And I will not even kind of be surprised when I have dreams about giving birth to wookies now.  

Thanks again, Google.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

The One Where I Even Include a Table of Contents. Because I'm Fancy.

So I'm officially 3 days short of not having posted anything for a solid month.  That's not to say I haven't kind of tried - because I certainly have plenty of Drafts to prove it.  But nevertheless, here I am.  And naturally we're going to bullet this baby out, because it's been even longer since we've done one of those.  I'm talking like, the beginning of August.  Because yes, I checked.  And since my bullet posts may or may not tend to get somewhat verbose, I'll even preface it with a Table of Contents just for all you skimmers out there.  Well, and for everyone who inadvertently reads my vagina monologues and immediately regrets it.  (Tip: if you consciously make the choice to read my blog, you can just go ahead and plan on reading about periods, poop, and baby making.  If you don't enjoy the oversharing, no one is making you stay. J)

So, anyways.  Moving right along.  Table of Contents.

1.  The Obligatory Fertility Bullet
2. Metformin: Reminding My Body I'm Actually a Girl
3. Bob: The Cat Who I'm Pretty Sure Does Drugs
4. Kids Say the Darndest Things, and It's Even Funnier When it Happens in Church
5. Pinterest: Giving False Hope to Crappy Cooks Everywhere
6. Gardening: Because Growing a Baby is Clearly Not Our Forte
7. Politics: Something You'll Rarely Hear Me Give Two Craps About
8. My Husband: My Favorite Person on the Planet.  Except for Thor. (I'm only kind of kidding.)
9. Baby Boot Camp
10. The End: Creativity At Its Finest.  (But not really.)

You're welcome.

I'm just going to go ahead and get the shittiest bullet out of the way first.  As of this weekend, we've officially failed our fourth IUI.  I ended up taking injections for about 9 days (injections which cost $60 bucks each, I might add), because, as expected, the Femara did a whole lot of nothing.  I had 2 perfect follicles, Shawn had his highest sperm count ever (25 million post wash. Hey-o.), we prayed, we went to the temple, we rubbed the 5k trophy for good luck - we felt really good about everything.  And nothing.  Nothing except for a single pink line on a pee stick, raging cramps from hell, and about 4832948392048 pregnancy announcements on Facebook to top it all off.  (Seriously though.  Did everyone have a secret meeting and decide to get pregnant allll at the same damn time?!)

So, if we're looking at numbers, so far that's 9 rounds of Clomid, 2 rounds of Femara, 1 round of injections, 4 IUIs, 6 thousand dollars and 21 months of not even kind of getting pregnant.  So yeah, it sucks and I've been pretty sad.  Buuuut I'll survive.  We're going to take a break for a month or two, and just try it the old fashioned fun way.  Taking a break makes me a little nervous that it's just going to prolong my empty uterus.  But eh, it'll be a nice break from the daily injections, the vagina bullets, and the endless ultrasound wands that are shoved up my youknowwhere.  And Shawn, well, I'm sure he isn't too upset that he won't have to make love to a plastic cup for a little while.  So, it'll be good.  Even though I cried after I told the nurse we were taking a break.  And then ate a gallon of ice cream.  Waiting is hard.

I'm starting to get more used to the Metformin my doctor prescribed to keep my man hormones in check.  I have to use one of those Sun-Sat pill holder thingers, because apparently I'm 200 years old and can't keep track of whether or not I've taken my Metformin and a prenatal vitamin.  Sigh.  But between my boobs being on fire, and my uterus throwing the most violently epic rave ever, I'd say that my hormones are getting to where they need to be. And I only say that because I've never had sore boobs or cramps during my period.  Like, ever.  So being one that has the lowest pain tolerance in the history of ever, you can only imagine I've been dealing with that as well as a two year old would.  The other day I was whining about it to Shawn, and he responded with, "Well, it's because your body realizes it's a girl now."  Touche, husband.  Oh, and also?  Two words.  Solid poop.

So I think that's plenty of talk about my uterus and lady problems.  (And seriously, I don't mean for my blog to turn into Infertility central, but it is what it is.)  So, let's talk about my cat!  Just kidding.  I really have nothing to say about him, other than he's the weirdest, most destructive cat on the planet.  We can't leave anything on the counters anymore.  He takes way too much pleasure in knocking it off and feeding it to the dog.  Or, if it's a roll of paper towels, he'll just destroy it himself.  He drags the weirdest things around our house.  And he runs around the house in circles like he's being chased by Satan himself.  I have no idea what that is about.  He's terrified of pretty much anyone besides Shawn or I, and probably would rather be lit on fire than go outside.  He's just quirky.  And apparently when I said I had nothing to say about him, I lied.  Here are some pictures, for those of you who haven't already been inundated by them on Facebook.

Weirdo, right?  But an entertaining weirdo.

We do this thing where we wiggle our fingers under our comforter, and Bob loves it.  This video makes me laugh just about every time I watch it.

This last Sunday during Sacrament meeting, this cute little girl got up to bare her testimony.  She said the normal, "I'm thankful for Jesus... I'm thankful for the scriptures..." and at the very end she followed it all up with a, "And I'm thankful my daddy was able to go to Las Vegas and bring home some money."  It pretty much made my entire day.  

Thanks to Pinterest, I've been trying my hand at cooking a little more these days.  I am far from being even remotely capable in the kitchen, but I'm getting there.  (Semi-related: What is with all the "healthy" desserts on Pinterest?  Who wants to eat healthy brownies made with black beans?  More like barf brownies.  Hello.  Way to take all the fun out of eating crap that's bad for you.  I prefer my dessert unhealthy, thankyouverymuch.)  Aaaanyways.  I've made 3 things I've found on Pinterest so far.  And for someone who doesn't make things much more complicated than cereal, that is pretty impressive.

First I made these banana bread bars with brown butter frosting.  Shawn is constantly pestering me about all the damn bananas I keep putting in the freezer.  And every time I tell him to bug off, because those nasty ass bananas were going to turn into delicious banana bread.  Someday.  So I decided to be fancy and make those bar thingers, because they looked delicious.  I had never actually "browned" butter before, so I was nervous that the frosting would taste like burnt Pam, or something.  But when it all came out, it actually looked pretty good...  

It doesn't look quite like the picture on the website, but it looked edible.  I was too nervous to try some, so I force fed it to Shawn.  He said he liked it, but I heard, "This is terrible.  Do better."  Why?  Because Shawn is a machine.  And if he doesn't have seconds/thirds/fourths, he's either dying or isn't a fan.  He keeps trying to convince me that it's good, and to try some.  So I finally did.  And I'm not one to use the word moist, but holy hell those were moist in the worst way.  You know that absolutely horrendous noise people make when they eat a banana.  Yeah.  It was like that.  It was way too juicy for me.  And there was way too much frosting.  After a little while of the pan sitting on the counter, the banana juice started leaking out.  Or it was the 800 sticks of butter we used.   Either way, it was nasty.  So if you're into that kind of thing, then, great.  But I think we're just going to stick with boring banana bread for next time.

I also made this "Cinnamon French Toast Bake", because, uh, cinnamon rolls and french toast?  Just throw some bacon bits in there and you have the holy trifecta of breakfasts.  This one turned out a little better than the banana butter mush.  Our only real problem with it was that the bottom was pretty soggy, I don't know if it's something that I did wrong, or if people like soggy bottoms.  But it was still pretty good, and actually - for me, at least - tasted better the next day.  Probably because it wasn't as soggy.  

You can even see how soggy it is.  But the top part was delicious!

And then I made my very first pot roast.  And I didn't take any pictures, and I don't have a link to the recipe... But, oh baby.  I achieved sweet culinary climax with that puppy.  I don't know why I don't use my Crock Pot more often.  It was like, made for kitchen dumdums like me.  Huck in a bunch of random ingredients and let it all sit for 8 hours and voila - MEAL!.  That's my kind of cooking.  It's too bad Shawn ate pretty much the entire thing for lunch the next day.  I was legitimately ticked off about that one.  So now, any time we're arguing I throw in, "Remember that one time you ate an entire pot roast?!"  Obviously he didn't eat the entire thing.  But he may as well have.

(Related: I also made my very first meatloaf a couple weeks ago.  Not from anything I found on Pinterest, just because pretty much the only thing we had in our house to eat was hamburger - and I was feeling ambitious.  I don't think I've ever been so grossed out preparing dinner in my entire life.  Mushing raw hamburger, eggs, and all that other crap together with my hands?!  Not a fan.  Turns out the meatloaf, while tasty, gave us both rampant diarrhea.  I don't know if it was just bad hamburger, or if our colons are just allergic to meatloaf.  But either way, the only 'loaf' we'll be eating any time soon is bread.)   

We have some friends that gave us a couple seeds from a 400 pound pumpkin.  That's like, 5 of me.  Okay. Fine.  Probably more like 2.5 of me.  But still.  That's a big ass pumpkin.  We haven't even attempted to start a garden yet, mostly because we don't have a place to put it and because Toby would probably love nothing more than to destroy it.  So we decided to plant these pumpkin seeds at Shawn's parent's house.  And by we, I mean Shawn..  Anyways, we planted them a little bit late and ended up getting one pretty big round orange pumpkin, and another not-so-orange pumpkin.  We haven't weighed them yet (although I feel pretty confident in saying they're no where near 400 pounds), and you can't really tell just how big they are in this picture I'm going to show you...  Buuut, we're still pretty proud of our very first grown vegetable.. or is it a fruit?  Whatever.  We grew something, and with our track record, it's pretty impressive.

So, confession time.  I just barely registered to vote for the first time in my entire life.  I'll give you a little space to get all your judging out of the way...

[Judging space]

Better?  The only time I've ever been even remotely interested in politics was when I was studying for an AP Government test in high school.  And that's only because I didn't want to fail a test I paid $80 bucks for.  (Which I didn't, by the way. Bam.)  But recently I've decided that I should probably start giving a flying fart about the election, especially if presidents are going to start making epic decisions about how I receive healthcare, and all that other fun stuff.  So I'm sure it goes without saying that these recent debates have been the first I've ever watched.  And even though I enjoyed reading Twitter more than the actual debate, it was pretty interesting... I guess.  I found myself more irritated than anything, at the stupid smirks and constant interruptions.  But I think my favorite part of the debate, is this video:

"I don't wanna touch sand paper."  *Snort*


I posted most these pictures on Facebook - but I had to get 'em in here too for posterity's sake.  

#1. This day I went to the pharmacy and came back expecting Shawn to be at school... but he wasn't.  And I found him just like the picture shows.  Um, most adorable husband in the entire world?  Uh, yeah.  Pull something like that again, and I might forget that you ate my pot roast.

#2  To say Shawn loves Otter Pops would be a massive understatement.  He is like, the Chuck Norris of eating.  He can't just eat one Otter Pop at a time.  He'll eat them about 10 at a time.  And I'm so not even kidding.  How I'm still the fat one in our relationship is beyond me.

#3  I literally have no idea what he was doing in this picture.  But I, being the respectable wife that I am, could obviously not pass up documenting the occasion.

I love this dude to death and beyond.  And am so glad he doesn't have a blog to make fun of me on.  Because Heaven only knows he'd have plenty of material.

Our good friends just had pretty much the most adorable baby ever.  They ended up needing a babysitter so the mom (Hi Katie!) could go back to work.  I have Fridays off, and offered to watch her.  Last week was the first day I had her all to myself, and it was fantastic!  She's pretty much the easiest baby ever, which made things way less complicated.  Shawn didn't have to work that day either, and stayed home to help me. And all I have to say is he is going to be one adorable dad some day.  Even though he's never changed a single diaper in his entire life.  I think my favorite part of the day, is when I went to go get a blood test, he called and said, "Uh, Rose just farted really loud - and now she won't stop crying."  He wasn't quite ready for his first solo diaper change.  We'll get there though.  

Oh, and the animals.  As soon as we picked her up out of her carseat, Toby flew. off. the. handle.  He didn't even know what to do with himself when she started crying.  And Bob could not get away from her.  Both of 'em were just like, "What in the hell did you just bring into our house?"  Nothing like a tiny human to confuse the crap out of animals.  Fortunately, they both got used to her, and Toby finally calmed the eff down.  

So, even though I'm the oldest of 5 and have had plenty of practice with babies, this will be a good refresher - since I'm like, oh, 11 years out of practice.  We'll just call it Baby Boot Camp.

It's pretty much killing me that I'm out of things to bullet about.  And that I'm ending on an odd number.

*OCD flare-up*