What's So Great About Tuesday?

Absolutely nothing. Then only thing that Tuesday has going for it it is that its not Monday. I hate Mondays!

When I was in fourth grade, I was coerced into competing in the impromptu category of the oral language festival. I had no idea what that was, but somebody must have told me I would get candy for doing it. That was the only reason I did anything in those days. In fact, it still is. "Chocolate? I'm in!!!!"

My ten-year-old self didn't discover what she was in for until assigned a topic question - "What is your favorite day of the week, and why?" Then I was told I had five minutes to think about it before giving a ten minute speech in front of three judges. Well five minutes isn't much time for a borderline A.D.D., sugar-starved fourth grader to organize her thoughts. I'm pretty sure I spent the first four minutes and fifty seconds contemplating the merits of Milky Way Bars. Somewhere in those last ten seconds I made a snap decision to spend my ten minutes of fame convincing an audience of three that Tuesdays were the shiznit.

My speech went something like this:

Judge: Rebekah, you may begin.

Me: Lots of people like Saturday because there's no school. Some people love Sunday because of church. Mondays are great if you like school. Fridays are fun because you can stay up late. Thursdays are almost Fridays, so they're okay. Wednesday is like a half-way point, so some people like them too, but not me. I love Tuesday. Tuesday is the day nobody appreciates. It's like Bakersfield. Everybody drives through here to get somewhere else. Just like nobody ever makes Bakersfield their destination, nobody ever looks forward to a Tuesday. I feel sorry for poor Tuesday. It must be the saddest day of the week.

Then there were 9 1/2 minutes of silence while I just stood there smiling and waiting for the timer to run out.

I still have my Participant ribbon, but for the life of me, I can't remember if I ever got my candy.

Would You Rather...

Have a see-through nose or completely white eyeballs? Risk you life in a 100 yard race against a sixth grader or an eleven-year-old dog? Be on top of a Ferris wheel in a lightning storm or an earthquake?

These were some of the pivotal questions we were forced in answer in our small group tonight. In lieu of an actual Bible study, we decided to have a game night. I learned that my sister cannot rap, I can't explain how electricity works, Paul will not let his chihuahua lick peanut butter off his nose for anything, and Rick does an incredible cat impression. Seriously...for a minute there I was like "Hey, where did Rick go, and what is this thing pouncing on my head?"

All in all, Jeff and I belong to a very wonderful, very A.D.D. small group. There's nothing quite as good as knowing that at the end of a crappy Monday, I get to go laugh my butt of for a couple hours and, on occasion, learn something. Now I just need a good reason to get through Tuesday-Friday. ;-)

Liberty! Li-Ber-Ty!

Okay, so the Oscars were great. The dresses were fantastic, especially Cameron Diaz's. Doogie Houser sang. Ben Stiller made an appearance as a low-budget Avatar. James Cameron's ex-wife stuck it to him by winning best director and best picture (among other awards) for "The Hurt Locker". Go Kathryn! And all of these great moments were overwhelmingly dwarfed by one little commercial. Props to you, Whoopie. Your career has finally come full circle. I laughed so hard, I might have "spritzed" a little. Enjoy!

Cadbury Creme Eggs Benadict?

Holy frosted goodess, Batman! I can't say I wasn't intrigued and a little disgusted. Cadbury Creme Eggs are, and forever will be, my favorite Easter treat, but this little number looks good enough, and bad enough, to put my pancreas into a coma for life.

Lets break it down, shall we?

Pound cake fried in butter
Cake Doughnuts
Brownies
Butter cream frosting
Red Sugar sprinkles
and Cadbury Creme Eggs

I dare someone to make it tell me how it turns out (if the diabetes doesn't get you first)

Oh, and for all you Weight Watchers fans, I think this is only about four points. Eat Up!

http://www.seriouseats.com/recipes/2010/03/cakespy-cadbury-creme-eggs-benedict-dessert-breakfast-recipe.html

Twilight and Fitness

Okay, so I have to confess. I'm reading the Twilight series. It started as a bet, and before I knew it, I was a little hooked. I don't have posters on my wall or a t-shirt that says "Team Edward" (I'm totally for Team Jacob!), but I've definitely become a fan. Last week I finished reading "New Moon", and decided that I wanted to see the movie. So after and entire day of pleading and bargaining, I managed to get Jeff to not only see the movie with me, but to go to the dreaded Dollar Theater on a Friday night. The movie was okay, about as good as the book. I do have to say, however, that when I read the book, my imagination did not do Jacob justice.

When we got home, I asked Jeff what he thought of the movie.


"It was stupid! Bella is annoying. Why would she go for the pale scrawny fickle vampire, when she could have Jacob, who is HOT?! By the way, do you think I should start working out?"

Fast forward a couple days. Jeff and I are being couch potatoes while watching an infomercial for P90X. Why is that always the only thing on? Apparently, if we have $120 and 90 days, we can look like this:

This may just be the total body makeover we've been waiting (since Friday) for. We're totally ordering it.

The Force

Hilarity, complements of my cousin, Micah

How Jeff Won

So I'm pretty sure that my only readers so far are my mother and my sister. In light of this sad truth (sorry Mom and Laurel), I'll keep this story delightfully PG.

I should preface this with the fact that Jeff rarely wins. When he does, I tend to pay heavily. I think its happened twice since we've been married.

This afternoon I asked Jeff what he wanted for dinner, and he suggested that we barbecue. It was a great idea, but I pointed out to him that we were out of charcoal. I knew this because I used the last of it last week. In a rather bold and uncharacteristic manner, Jeff protested.

"No, we have charcoal under the BBQ"

I knew that the empty bag was sitting there, so I told him to go out and look. If he found charcoal, I would um...do something that he really likes. ;-)

However, if the charcoal was gone, he would give me a 30 minute foot rub. (It's been a while since my last pedicure, so Jeff was taking quite a risk, or so I thought.)

Jeff readily agreed to the wager, and headed out the back door to prove me wrong. I sat in the living room waiting to hear the token expletive that would mark the moment of my victory. It never came. Instead, in marched my husband triumphantly holding our little grey cat ,"Charcoal", who often sleeps under the BBQ. Damn!