World of No

Me: Can I take tap dance lessons?
Dan: No.
Me: What?! Why not?
Dan: You're 26.
Me: Don't you want to be one of those proud husbands who sits in the auditorium, watching his wife tap her heart out and videotaping the entire grand routine?
Dan: No. I would be willing to be a parent who was taping a routine. But to be a husband with a wife in a child's tap dance class would be weird.
Me: But think about it! It would be great exercise. It would give me a hobby. I wouldn't feel like we never go anywhere. I'd make new friends!
Dan: ...who'd all be the same height as your knees.

When you get married, they don't tell you that your husband will stifle your creativity. Or that he'll ruin your chances of becoming the next big superstar on So You Think You Can Dance. Consider this my warning to all the unmarrieds- learn to tap dance now.

Made in 1982

OK, you know I'm a good friend when I alter my blog for you. Cory, anonymous users can now post comments. If I get weird comments from perverts, I will assume they are from you.

Back to the real post. I couldn't think of a single thing to blog about so I asked Dan for inspiration...

Me: I can't think of a new post. We don't do anything exciting.
Dan: You got mugged by a freaking pregnant woman! What do you mean we don't do anything exciting?
Me: I already blogged about that. Besides *WE* didn't get mugged. *I* got mugged.
Dan: Yeah, but who did you call?
Me: ...Ghostbusters?
Dan: na na na na na na When there's something strange, in the neighborhood...
Me: Hey, I need a topic!
Dan: Can't think of one. Oh, by the way, I was reading that blog on your blog roll, All Things Cupcake today. I check it every once in awhile.
Me: *smirk*
Dan: What?
Me: Nothing, go on. You read the cupcake blog.
Dan: Right, I was reading it and it had a $900 cupcake chair and a link to the company that makes them. There was some really cool stuff! Like a Lite Brite table where you can move the pegs. And a Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robot table!
Me: Wow, you are a dork.
Dan: Go look at the website.
Me: *sigh* Fine.
...
Me: Holy crap they have gummi bear lights. I want them! And a button candy bench!?! Mine!

So, all you children of the 80's, go to this site. You will not be disappointed.

Wow, that was a long blog for just one link. Sorry, no refunds for the time spent reading this post.

I'm a Blog Sheep

OK, so everyone on MySpace an the blogging world seems to have done this already.

As always, I'm a tad late... So here goes.

Go to http://www.photobucket.com/
Type in your answer to each question in the search box.
Copy the html and paste for the answer.

1. What is your relationship status?

2. Who is your celebrity crush? (Not the PC guy, obviously. Well hopefully that was obvious to you all.)

3. Who is your favorite band? (It said "band" so I couldn't list my BFF, Britney Spears.)

4. What is your favorite movie?

5. What kind of pet do you have?

6. Where do you live?

7. Where do you work? (None of my original answers came up with search results. "Office" will hafta do.)

8. What do you look like? (But with a burrito in my hand and a sombrero topping off the look.)

9. What do you drive?

10. What's your favorite TV show?

11. Describe yourself.

12. What's your name? ("Sara" was photos of random girls. Most of them wearing very little clothing. This seemed more reader-friendly.)

13. What's your favorite candy?

Baking 101

Not my wedding cake, originally uploaded by Klick Here.

So, Katie posted a comment on the previous post which made me think that my baking skills deserved a blog post. She is referring to a cake that I made in the microwave while living in the sorority dorm. She made non-stop fun of me, even while we sat in the hallway, eating it straight out of the pan. Because that's the kind of friends we are.
I even made a few birthday cakes for various people. My then-boyfriend's roommate had never had a birthday cake made for him before, so he got the first one. He claimed to like it, but then again who wouldn't like my cooking? I also made a few for some sorority sisters who had bad breakups. I was the Betty Crocker of Mountain View.
I had visions of making a multi-tiered cake, complete with delicate sugar spun flowers. Like the picture, but with round cake pans. By the way, the cake in the picture is not my wedding cake but happens to have our initials on it. I googled "cake" and that was the first image on the list. Cake karma.
So anyway, I had these grand ideas and not enough people to bake for. And then I moved into a room with a pot head, a nympho and a stereotypical California beach bum. My cookware was quickly trashed. I never replaced it, mostly because I was a poor college student and also because I had a meal plan.
But, in honor of those first few microwaved cakes, here is my microwavable cake recipe.

Ingredients:
1 box of yellow cake mix
1 egg
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup oil
1 can of chocolate frosting

Mix cake according to directions on box. Pour into microwavable cake pan. Bake according to directions on cake pan. Let cool. Spread with chocolate frosting and enjoy.

You're welcome.

"Cool" is My Middle Name

Paula_Abdul, originally uploaded by Klick Here.

I will admit that I am a victim of pop music. Love. It. I like the boppy beats, the brainless lyrics. I love the music videos with lots of flashing lights and lip synching.
When we were at a super bowl party, we all saw Paula Abdul's performance of "Dance Like There's No Tomorrow." Everyone there was about 10 years older than Dan and me, so when they started making fun of her I kept my mouth shut. But secretly? I became a little obsessed. And when she called into John Jay and Rich this morning? Fell a little more in love with song.
Don't get me wrong, I still think she says some very weird things on American Idol and I made fun of her the entire time "Hey Paula" was on TV. But her new song? Her catchy song that basically just repeats the chorus over and over? I keep calling the radio station to request it. They ignore me, so I'm going to have to purchase it on iTunes. Heck, I'm going to probably purchase the entire Randy Jackson CD when it comes out.
I've officially lost all street cred.

I Demand a Recount

Disney's "Enchanted", originally uploaded by Klick Here.

I was only excited about one catergory from last night's Academy Awards. "Best Original Song." It's no secret that I adore flamboyant musicals and Disney and happy, catchy tunes that can make people's eyes twitch. Enchanted was a fabulous mix of all three.
3 of the major songs in the movie were nominated - "That's How You Know," "Happy Working Song" and "So Close." While I love the first two, sung by Amy Adams, my favorite is "So Close," sung by Jon McLaughlin. It's sappy and sweet and is sung during a scene when Patrick Dempsey is wearing a prince costume.
What's that noise? Oh. That would be my heart fluttering.
I Tivo'd through most of the award show, pausing to listen to John Stewart's jokes and to see my favorite actors presenting awards. I don't think I listened to a single acceptance speech though. The only time I was transfixed was during the performances of the 5 songs that were nominated. Amy Adams sang "Happy Working Song" beautifully of course, unfortunately without little animated pigeons and cockroaches prancing around her. Kristin Chenoweth sang "That's How You Know." Now, I love Kristin Chenoweth. I've been a big fan since Wicked, liked her bubbly character in Bewitched and absolutely adore Pushing Daisies. But I just didn't like her singing the song during the awards. It should have been Amy Adams up there. Not only to keep the original feeling from the song, but also because Amy Adams has the fairy tale princess vibe while Kristin Chenoweth is more...well, Glinda the good witch. OK, off my Cinderella soap box. So Close was performed by Jon McLaughlin and had Amy Adams and some dude who was definitely not Patrick Dempsey dancing around. Boo. I wanted to see Patrick Dempsey dancing again.
A song from Once won in this catergory and I was thoroughly depressed. I've never seent he movie, so maybe it was a great fit for the film. However, in the 3 minutes it was onstage, it didn't grab my attention. If Enchanted couldn't have won, I thought the song from August Rush, with a solo done by a little girl who has more talent in her tiny pigtail braid than I do in my entire body, should have won. All in all, I turned off the tv feeling very bitter. I would not make a good Oscar nominee. I would be the one mouthing swear words as the camera caught my reaction to the winner announcement.
Oh yeah, and some other awards were won.
This ends Sara's Academy Awards recap. You're welcome.

Resolution Update 2

MonsterLoCarbCan, originally uploaded by Klick Here.

I had this today. I am ashamed, but it was needed. Dan's snoring was so bad last night that the kitties were meowling along. ("Meowling" is a mix of meowing and howling. Our cats can't seem to meow normally.)
Anyway, in order to function, I needed this! Although it's nice to know that my coworkers are concerned...

Erica: I thought your resolution was to not drink those.
Me: Shhhh...no more talking.

Candace: Caffeine huh?
Me: Yeah, I could barely keep my eyes open. I was craving it.
Candace: OK. I won't tell Dan.

Dear hubby will never know that my New Years resolution was broken only 12 days after making it. Because his resolution should have been to read and comment on "our" blog at least once a week, and we know that it'll never happen.

Head Bopping Madness

Most of my friends have definitive taste in music. They tend to shy away from the "pop" genre that made the likes of Britney famous. I, however, adore it. The upbeat tempo, catchy lyrics and general bubblegum feel of the songs make me happy.

While we were moving, I had L.F.O's "Summer Girls" stuck in my head. Any takers? L.F.O. (or Lyte Funkie Ones for those of us in the know,) had 2 albums out and maybe 3 hit songs in total. Jennifer Love Hewitt dated one of the singers many years ago and he wrote one of their singles about her. ("Girl on TV" for you trivia buffs.) Anyway, "Summer Girls" was a smash hit. (kinda. In the one-hit wonder, only played at pool parties, sort of way.) I have had the song running through my head non-stop for the past 2 weeks. The bad part is that I can only remember a few lines...
New Kids on the Block had a bunch of hits
Chinese food makes me sick
And I think it's fly when a girl stops by
For the summer. For the summer.

Award winning prose, it's not. And "summer" is pronounced "summah." But it's catchy and engraved into my memory cells. I want to buy the single off iTunes but something about buying a 90's pop hit is making me want to find it on sale instead. Yes, I am too cheap to pay 99 cents for this song.

This lead to me remembering other 90's pop faves. The Spice Girls have reunited. (I put myself on the waiting list to buy tickets to their concert but didn't get them, much to Dan's happiness.) I am planning on downloading a bunch of their old songs, as well as their new single. I also listened to B*Witched and the Cardigans. Aqua and A-Teens were other sure head boppers. All in all, I found about 20 singles that would make a great mixed CD. Something about the entire situation makes me feel like a pimple faced teenager again, listening to these songs and giggling with my friends about which boy we thought was cute. (None of them, by the way. Boys have cooties.)

This blog probably made me lose even more street cred. Oh well, someday you'll all be jealous when I get onto one of those tv game shows and win thousands of dollars. In the summah, in the summah.

Unmentionables

I hate, with a passion, buying new undergarments. Well, to be more specific, I really just hate bra shopping. Underwear (I don't like the word "panties." It makes me feel like a little kid or a stripper and the two images should never be combined,) is almost a love affair for me. I used to have over 100 until Dan told me I could not expand my underwear drawer into two underwear drawers.

Bras however, I break into a cold sweat when I have to buy new ones. I would rather just continually push up falling bra straps than buy a new bra. It's such a hassle to buy them. The ones I like are typically no longer being made, because Bali and Vanity Fair have a conspiracy against me. So that forces me to try on a kajillion (approximate number) of new ones. Many times, the salespeople will see that I am in a small panic over $30 worth of satin and lace, and they will offer to measure me. How, HOW EXACTLY, will a stranger touching my shirtless body make me feel better? No thank you.

This means I am shut in a dressing room by myself. Just me against the braziers. I stand back and survey all of them, deciding to start with the ones that cost the least. More often than not, I find something wrong with each. Wrong color, wrong fit, wrong pattern of lace. I even discarded one once because the clear straps weren't clear enough. Yes, I am that neurotic. I typically whittle a few dozen down to two. One that is outrageously expensive, and the other that is on clearance. Logically, I should not fall in love with clearance bra and only buy that one because it will not only mean that I have to continue the bra shopping process, but it will frustrate me when that bra inevitably gets worn out. But am I logical when in the face of extreme bra shopping? Of course not. So, using my penny pinching logic, I buy the clearance bra and skip merrily home. Until Dan points out that I was supposed to buy at least 4 to replace my 4 worn out ones. I then turn into a pouty 5 year old and stomp my feet and whine at the prospect of being dragged back to the department stores. Dan has been forced, more than once, to accompany me back to the stores in order to ensure that I actually purchase the required number of garments. I wish I had lived in the 60's, when the bra shunning movement began. (Not the mythical "bra burnings" mind you. Those never happened and are just a widespread rumor that no source has ever been able to confirm. Yes, I was a Women's Studies minor. Bit o' trivia for you there. The bra burning part, not the Women's Studies minor part. Wait, what was this blog about?)

Gimme Gimme More

I stumbled across a new blog called evlovedesigns which is having a Holiday swap!

Sara loves presents.

This picture was blatantly stolen from evlovedesigns.

The gal I am buddied up with is from Australia. Because I am a dork, the link to her blog is on my work email instead of my personal one. Thus, the link will be added to my page later. And just in case she happens to check my blog, I will not post pictures of the project until after I am done. Let's just say Sara got to go to use two Joanns coupons...wait for it...IN THE SAME TRANSACTION! I'm a retail rebel.

I'm an Instigator

I consider myself a fairly normal person. Yes, I have had some weird streaks, but all in all, I think I am in the range of "sane and normal." This allows me to make fun of the people who are weird.

Wheird even. Family Guy reference anyone? Maybe I should have saved that for another post when I wasn't trying to prove that I am normal...

Anyway, I was at Office Max during my lunch break last week. I enjoy office supplies ever so much and spend quite a bit more time there than normal. While browsing a few weeks ago, I saw a gift that would be perfect for someone I know. Someone who reads this blog in fact. Ha! Now I bet you're all racking your brains.

When I was about to buy said gift, I overheard the manager telling an employee to mark down all of the items on the wall I was looking at. I decided to wait and come back later to purchase it to save myself a bit of money. And to check out whatever new things had come in the meantime.

So last week, I had stopped by to pick up the perfect present and saw a man literally biting his nails in front of the display. I stood to the side out of good manners, because my parents taught me to wait my turn. I stood further away than necessary because he was weird.

Man: Palm trees. Nothing but shitty palm trees. *bite bite bite spit*
Me: *looking at the pens. Looking at the folders. Looking at the pink tape.*
Man: Shitty, shitty palm trees. *bite bite bite spit*
Employee: Miss? May I help you find something?
Me: Oh no. I'm just browsing and waiting to pick up something. I don't want to crowd him though.
Employee: Sir? May I help you find something?
Man: Eh?
Employee: Is there something I can help you find sir?
Man: Like what sugar? [NOTE: Not sure if he's calling the male employee Sugar, or if he was merely offering a suggestion of what the employee could help him find.]
Employee: Can I help you find something? ARE YOU LOOKING FOR SOMETHING SPECIFIC? [NOTE: Yes, talking loudly at him will help oh so much. Good plan]
Man: I am looking for the perfect one! But alls you got are shitty palm trees! *bite bite bite spit*
Employee: The perfect what sir?
Man: Palm trees boy! WHERE ARE THEY?!
Employee: Are you referring to a picture? Or perhaps a logo on something? I'm not sure what you mean by palm trees.
Me: Native plant. Brown trunk. Green leaves. Tall. *wiggling fingers to mimic palm tree fronds.*
Employee: I understand what a palm tree is. What I don't understand is why he's looking for them here.
Man: GREEN LEAVES! *wiggles fingers too*
Employee: Sir, is there something specific you would like the palm trees on? A notebook perhaps? Stationary?
Man: Yup, they are!
Employee: They are what?
Man: Stationary! Trees can't move boy! *cackle*
Me: He's got a point.
Employee: Miss? Maybe I can help you get whatever it is that you need.
Me: Nope. I'm good, thanks though.
Man: What about my palm trees?
Employee: Sir, I really don't understand what it is you're looking for. Maybe if you could describe it to me.
Man: *wiggles fingers* stationary and green! [NOTE: This is where I chose to make my exit. I couldn't stand the employee's glares any longer. I don't think I helped much.]

Drive By

Dan and I were heading home. We were stopped at a red light, about to merge onto the freeway. Dan half snorted with laughter.

Me: What's so funny?
Dan: The guys behind us are smoking pot. The driver just handed a pipe to the passenger. And the passenger just ducked below the dashboard to hide himself from view while lighting up.
Me: *looking in my mirror* I don't see them lighting up. The guy is just sitting there and... *sees a long stream of smoke come from the passenger's mouth* Oh. Nevermind.
Dan: What idiots. Who lights up at a stoplight?
Me: Ooh! OOOOH! Can I take a picture of them and really freak them out?!
Dan: No sweetie. You're not allowed to freak out the potheads.
Me: You never let me have any fun.
I tried snapping a picture of them once we got on the freeway and once Dan couldn't stop me, but they sped by us in the fast lane. Great. Get high, then go 90 on the freeway. I'm glad you passed the driving test.

It's Like Shakespeare

I consider myself a master of piercing insults. When I was younger, my friends and I played a lot of pool. Partly because we were under drinking age and none of us were willing to break the rules and sneak any beer from our parents' fridges. Also partly because my parents had a weird mid-life crisis and bought a pool table to go in the middle of the living room. No TV allowed in that house, but you want to hit hard objects towards our expensive French doors? Go right ahead! I'll even rack!
Anyway, our games usually turned vicious. First-borns were wagered, people lost thumbs. It was truly a site to behold. My personal contribution to the madness was coming up with insults, creative barbs to toss around at my opponents. Some of my favorite gems:
I hope your kids call the mailman "Dad."
I hope you momentarily forget where you live and wander into a brothel that's about to be raided.
I hope you show signs of premature balding.

Now, I'll admit that while I cracked myself with those witty remarks, I never really intended for them to hit their mark. When one of my friends began to whine at me everyday about his supposed receding hairline, (FOR THE GAZILLIONTH TIME-IT'S JUST A BAD HAIRCUT, NOT A GENETIC SIGN OF AGING!) I began to regret the carefree way I threw insults around. So now, my form of insult goes more like:
You're off my Christmas card list.
You're a turd.
I hope your hairdresser accidentally gives you bangs.
I hope your wife is so doped on pain meds that she names your first born Big Boobs McGee.

I can tell that you are all jealous of my superiors wit. If you would like to hire me to write a callous letter to your friends/family/coworkers, let me know. I charge per word.

Stuck in the Middle

I love my friends. They are warm and caring. They are funny and articulate. They are sweet as can be or are charmingly rugged. Sometimes both, but I digress.

This blog is about the sadness I feel when two friends battle. I always feel like I am put in the middle, forced to choose between two friends who have treated me well over many, many years. This is my dilemma:

Friend number one has a very broad range of interests and can always keep me entertained when I am bored. She is popular, but I always seem to feel like one of her favorite people whenever I am with her. She is always up for a sale and is constantly in contact. She seems to know whenever I am down, and will send a little note or email my way that inevitably cheers me up.

Friend number two may be a little narrow minded, but he is trying to branch out slowly. He is less technologically advanced, but he is always there for me. He introduces me to new things and constantly makes me smile. There was a time when we didn't speak, but it was only because friend number one had all my attention for a few weeks in a row. But when I realized my mistake and came running back to him, he welcomed me with open arms. Most importantly, he is as obsessed with holidays as I am.

Friend number one, if you haven't guessed already, is Joann's Etc. Friend number two-Michaels. I have always been a faithful supporter of both, but recently Joann's has come to disappoint me. I love that you can shop online, but I hate that I have to sit and wait for the holiday stuff to arrive. They just barely put up Halloween stuff while Michaels has had Halloween and even Christmas items out for over a month! Plus, Joanns' selection is more decor based than craft based and Michaels offers a wide variety of both. I also love that you can purchase fabric and home decor stuff at Joann's, but I haven't sewn in a long while. They both had coupons, although Joann's is mailed and emailed to me. Michaels will accept Joann's coupons though.

This is a dilemma. Do I continue to frequent Joann's, only to be disappointed with each trip? Or do I cut my ties and only visit Michaels and scrapbook stores for all my crafting needs?

...these are the things that keep me up at night.

Literally, online shopping.

Anyone up for a trip to Costa Blanca, Spain? I would like to go hold a sit-in at a local company there. They need to relinquish their rights to a certain website.

Although, there is a neat site that is for sale. How much does the average domain cost?

I'm thinking part blog and part craft message board. Mmmm...crafts. Full of fiber.

Stir Crazy

Dan is on Week 4 of working nights. This is a good thing not just because I will get to see him more beginning Monday, but also because it will prevent me from wasting so much time doing unproductive things. I should not be left unsupervised.

I watch crappy tv. Like the Teen Choice Awards. This is the cast of High School Musical 2 accepting an award. It was hard to hear them over the teeny bopper's screaming Zac Efron's name.

Like this little girl, who was literally hopping up and down from excitement. I love the older guy next to her, who is clearly jealous of Mr. Efron's heart throb status and is scowling. Even more so, I love the little boy in the bottom left corner, who is covering his ears.

And I take pictures of said crappy tv. This is from Yes Dear. The kid was uber cute and to keep him quiet, throughout the show he was given apples.

I make s'mores. There were 2, but I ate one before I realized I should take a picture to make Dan jealous of my nighttime snack.

Dan: You made s'mores? Did you at least toast the marshmallow over the stove?
Me: No, I melted them in the microwave. I thought it best to avoid open flame if you weren't home. I didn't want to start a kitchen fire and not have you here to calm me down and put it out.

I also took pictures of the cats watching tv. They were enthralled by football. Oscar lost interest after a minute or two, but Gucci stayed put even through the commercial break.

She's an advertising executive's dream audience.