Sneaky, Sneaky

Friday night, Bob and I both had to work late so I tried to call my sister to have her let Kuma out and feed her. When I couldn’t get a hold of her, I left around 7:30 and rushed home. I quickly let her out and asked her if she was hungry. Of course, she ran straight to her bowl and patiently waited while I doled out a heaping portion because I felt guilty for feeding her so late. About fifteen minutes later, I get a phone call from my sister. She told me that my mom gave her my message and she had ran over to the house to take care of Kuma. I looked over at my dog and she actually put her head down in shame! Not only that, she rolled over and showed me her belly! As soon as I looked at her and said her name, she knew the game was up, she was caught. Sigh, what am I going to do with her?

Hijacked in Sephora

Last night Monika wanted to check out the lipsticks in Sephora so we stopped by. While one of the women helped her find some shades, I was approached by this bubbly and hysterical makeup artist. She dragged me over to the Lancome section and told me that we were going to “play” with their products. Frenchie (that’s her name) gave me this spiel about not being familiar with this line of makeup and she wanted to have some fun with it. So, who ended up being her guinea pig? That’s right, me. What was supposed to be a quick stop turned into an hour of me getting my makeup done. I had nowhere fun to go once the makeover was finished, just home to the husband and mountains of laundry. At least I looked great while cleaning the house. Needless to say, I came out of that store a little bit poorer and Monika didn’t even buy any lipstick. I blame you, Monika.

Mr. Turfscape, Tear Down This Wall!

Two years ago, we took one look at you and almost walked away. But we saw something in you and thought, “As long as we all try in this relationship, it will work.” We were wrong. You had one job to do and you have sorely disappointed us for the past two years. We gave you so many chances to correct your mistakes. It was as if you didn’t care anymore. Did you not know that this was your destiny, to hold up the hill behind us?

It is not that we don’t care for you, we do. We are just ready to move on. Technology keeps advancing and we don’t want to be left behind.

We will not miss you. Goodbye, Wall. We wish you the best wherever you may end up.

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Hos Before Bros!

Girls at the Melting Pot

As everyone knows, I bowl on Wednesday nights with Brandon, Andrew and Bob but I was presented with an offer I could not refuse: a “Girls Night Out” at the Melting Pot. I couldn’t let the boys down so I prebowled on Monday night so I could be free tonight. Katie and Kim came by to pick Monika and me up. The menu: spinach and artichoke cheese dip, a refreshing light salad, an entree that had sirloin steak, chicken, tuna, ravioli and various vegetables and a coconut rum chocolate fondue for dessert. All of these were not on the normal menu, just made special for the Girls Night Out. It worked out perfectly because certain people didn’t like certain items and we would trade. I took all of Monika’s tuna and she took my beef and chicken. We all gave Monika the mushrooms and she gave me her portion of her potatoes. As much as I love bowling with the guys, I’m thinking it was worth it to skip out this one time.

Just a few pictures documenting the event. So, same time, same place next month, girls?


Movin’ to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches

Millions of peaches, peaches for free.  Millions of peaches, peaches for me
OK, now that the catchiest of all of the Presidents of the USA’s melodies is lodged in your brain, I shall delight you all with a tale of wonder and excitement. Today, Jen and I took Kuma out to Belleville, IL (unofficial motto: “It’s not technically East St. Louis”) to the Eckert’s Peach Orchard. There, we strove forth and picked the peaches. Kuma was so excited to be doing new things and seeing new people. Everyone there adored her, naturally.

One of the best things about being freakishly tall, is that I can go where no man can go to get that peach. In following the motto of the peach picker “The redder the better,” I strove for the highest branches to grab the reddest, softest, fuzziest peaches. Mmmmm, juicy!

We loaded up our two boxes of peaches, paid, and headed back to civiliazation (or at least, New Town, to put a down payment on one of my mom’s peach crisps). If I learned anything today, it’s the fact that not all peaches come from a can, and that not all peaches were put there by a man, in a factory downtown.