What's a Jack Butler?

Oh, about 12 an a half pounds.

That's right. Jack has become quite the little chunk. 12 1/2 pounds at 6 weeks.

Today is a big day for Jack-- his first road trip. We'll see how this goes.

Poopin' ain't easy.

Ah, young love.

Can't wait til Christmas

Game, Set, Flush.

Well, the toilet won. I thought my phone would conquer, but I was wrong. If you try and call my phone, I will not answer-- b/c even though I can hear you, you cannot hear me. The good news is I can still send pictures like this one:



Anyhow, I will be using Jeremy's phone until December, which is when I qualify for a free new phone. So if you want to reach me call Jeremy's phone. If you want to reach me, but don't know his number, then call my phone and leave a message. If you don't want to reach me, then bite me.

p.s. I really wanted to come up with some clever variant of the old "calling ralph" line as my subject for this post, but I couldn't think of anything. Oh man, that would have been so clever. Drat. I just wanted to let you all know that I wanted to be clever, and, if you ask me, wanting to be clever is pretty close to being clever.

I hear my baby, I gotta go.

If you don't know Jack, you don't know jack.

Well, as you may have heard, Jeremy and I are the proud parents of this kid.



His name is Jack. He is the best. EVER. (I gotta go ahead and say that he is the best baby now, before my future nieces/nephews arrive, so my brother and sister will still agree with me.) He's is perfect.

Jack's presence is bound to affect my blogging frequency, so I apologize in advance. I even failed to celebrate Hello Please's 2nd birthday, which happened to be the day before Jack's birthday. So, sorry, Hello Please. Anyhow, I'll try to forever continue to blog, but be warned that all future blogs may only consist of me posting pictures of Jack and me saying things like "Jack did the cutest thing..." I know I'm going to be one of those annoying moms who only talks about her kid all the time, but how could I not be with a kid like this. I mean, c'mon! Look at him!!

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place

Here comes my baby, here he comes now.

Doc: "Baby big."

Me: "How big?"

Doc: " 7 1/2 to 8 lbs."

Me: " Oh."

Doc: "Baby needs to come on out."

Me: "When?"

Doc: "Tuesday."

Me: "Oh, ok."


Monday night: inducement. Tuesday: baby.

Please, Lord, don't let my baby look like this.

This little piggy said "shnap, that hurt."

As I was walking behind Jeremy in Bed Bath & Beyond this evening, I stepped when he didn't and BAM. Little toenail to be breaking. I fear it won't be there for too much longer. I ask you, what kind of mother can I be with only 9 toenails?

I am a ticking time bomb

tick, tick, tick, tick, tick...

Jeremy and Amy: Homeowners

Yes, we own a house. Today I went to buy a mailbox for our house. I also bought the little numbers that go on the mailbox. When I got to the checkout, I dropped the numbers (as I usually do these days--whatever I'm holding.) Seeing my condition (being a full-term pregnant woman), and old lady behind me actually offered to pick up the numbers. What's sad is that I was actually relieved and willing to let her pick up the numbers. An old woman! I'm supposed to be picking up HER numbers. I'm still quite happy being pregnant, but the past week I have started feeling quite useless. We've been moving into our house and I can't help move anything, bending over is a ridiculously hard task, and my feet look and feel like they are going to explode at the end of every day. I want the little guy to stay in my belly for at two more weeks so I can get his home ready, but at the same time I want to have my old, functional body back again. Ahhh. That will be nice.

On a stranger note, I saw a chicken in the wal-mart parking lot yesterday morning. You don't believe me? I took a picture b/c I thought you might not believe me.



I also saw a cat in Lowes.

"There are guys in the background of Mary Worth comics that are more important than me."

Nothing says "you're a big loser" than getting your head cut out of a picture. Whoever took this picture found it very important to get Andrea's right knee and left shoe in the picture, but NOOOO, who cares about Amy's head? Not a smile, not a chin. Nothing. Just my lanky 13 year old body. Thanks a lot.

(An 11 year grudge. Nice.)

You'll have to speak up, my phone's in the toilet.

I know that it generally isn't a good idea to talk on the phone while you're in the restroom, but in my defense, I wasn't talking... I was just looking at something on my phone... while I was peeing. Not a crime. I'm sure lots of well respected people have done it before. Don't act like you haven't. (You haven't?! D'oh.) Well, I have-- and for the last time, as of yesterday (well, hopefully the last time.)

I dropped my phone into the toilet. I really wish I had photographic evidence of this for my blog, but, well, my camera phone was in the toilet. What's even more amazing than a grown adult dropping her phone in the toilet is the fact that it still works. I can barely hear it when it rings*, but it still works. You know, Samsung should really use my story as a testimonial to how durable their phones are. I have dropped that phone more times than I can count, and now it has been in the crapper, and it STILL works. Maybe Sprint could even advertise it as the "Pee CS phone." (I kill my head.)

Remember: Think twice before you ask to borrow Amy's cell phone, because you DO know where it has been.

Sorry about the grossness of this blog.

*I can now hear it completely fine when it rings.

God bless you, Yahoo.

So, Yahoo finally listened to me and changed there blasted log in page. Now it is a new face everytime. Now everytime I log into my yahoo account, it's like opening a different present.

YAHOO!!!!

This is why we can't have nice things!

I'm a klutz. I was a klutz pre-pregnancy, but now, nothing is safe.

FeverAll Suppositories:

Poor kid.

The darndest thing

Well, this morning was the first time that I have ever been able to truthfully say "there is a small person inside of my tummy-- and he's hiccuping."

Babies get hiccups inside the womb. Truly bizarre. It seems weird to me that this is possible, what, with all the fluid he's floating around in, but it is indeed true. If you don't believe me, ask my thumpin' belly.

I read something about hiccups the other day that will help all of you relax. When babies get hiccups (inside or outside of the womb), it doesn't bother them! It's not like us-- the ones taking any kind of hiccup advice we can get (stand on your head, pull your ears, wiggle your toes.) No, babies don't hate it like we do. So next time you see a baby hiccuping, follow your instinct and go "Awwwww!" (I would post a picture of a baby hiccuping, but I can't find one.)

Hiccup.

Hiccup.

Hicc..

Can't...blog...reading...

This is indeed a disturbing universe.

Hmm. Are my husand and my brother in love with each other? (Is there hand-holding going on in this picture?)

The kids can call you "HoJu"

The other day I bought this book from Target. It is very strange. There is a portion of this book called: "230 Fun lists." Some of the lists are understandable (ex. "Names that Get Shortened", "Derived from Literature", "Names Teachers Can't Pronounce" and "Names That Spawn Nasty Nicknames"), but some of these lists are just plain out there. I really wanted you guys to be included in the awesomeness that is this book, so I'm including some of the strange/hilarious lists and names. Enjoy.

(Boy, Girl, Boy or Girl)

Names for Vegetarians
Names that are SO Over (sorry, Jason)
Bad-to-the-Bone, Death Row Names: Timothy (McVeigh), Ted (Bundy)...
Nerd/Dork/Wallflower Names : Engelbert, Gomer
Patriotic Names: America, Eagle, Flag, Free, Patriot, Sailor, Salute
Names for the Handsome and Beautiful
Macho Men: Bucko, Butch, Zoom(?)
Make your Baby Popular
World's Strangest Names: Pity, Swell, Zap (ooh, Zap Butler...)
Wimpy Names: Bobo, Brownie, Fuddy
Girlie-Girl Names: Bubbles, Bunny, Cinnamon, Cookie, Princess, Sugar, Deedee ("Deedee! I told you not to touch it!!")
Famous Mob Names
Names That Make You Smile: Bitsie, Boots, Buffalo, Fluffy (hehe, Fluffy), Galaxy, Snooks, Tweetie
Future Truck Drivers: Butch, Joe-Eddy, Flo, Nerline
Future Televangelists
Future Crooked Politicians
Future Mechanics: Rusty, Chubby
Future Mortitians: Stone, Blackie, Dyer, Coffin, Morticia
Names that Make You Feel Weird: Fashion, Vixen, Bloo, Car, Sweetpea, Precious, Delete, Welcome
Scary/Creepy Names: Brick, Bruno, Butcher, Delete, Dweezil, Beatrix (Aaaauugh!!), Nunu, Swoosie
Season/Weather Names: Cloudy, Frosty, Rainbow, Equinox, Typhoon
Hyper Kids: Rambabu, Grasshopper

Small Shoulders

Jeremy and I have received about 8 outfits for the baby already, and I just realized the other day that I had nothing to hang them up with. Then I realized something: I never realized baby hangers existed. BABY HANGERS! They're just like big people hangers except... smaller. I mean, what will they think of next?

Sometimes it is really hard not to end a sentence with a preposition.

Sometimes it is easy to say "soldiers" when you mean to say "shoulders".

Sometimes it is hard not to make your blog pointless.

I think it is clear that we can expect great things from you...

I was reading "The Best of Uncle John's Bathroom Reader" the other day (nevermind where I was,) and I came across a little fact: "Most all boys will grow to be taller than their mothers.*" I never even considered that my son would be taller than me. I mean, when I imagined him being older, I would imagine another version of Jeremy. When I told Jeremy this little fact he said "yeah, i know" real nonchalant like. I was like "um, does that bother you-- that your son might be taller than you?" He said "no! That's why I married you" (insert slanted smiley face here.)

*And yes, I know that this stat doesn't really mean anything to me since "most" husbands are taller than their wives.

Latricia's not here, man.

I received the following phone call the other day:

Telemarketer: "Hi, is Latricia there?"
Me: "This is no longer Latricia's phone number."
Telemarketer: "Can I leave her a message?"
Me: "This is not Latricia's number. I don't even know a Latricia."
Telemarketer: "OK, I'll call back later (hangs up)."
Me: "Latricia doesn't live here!! (I look at the phone wondering what has just happened.)

Thanks for listening, man.

The Butler Name Will Live On...

It is SO a boy!

"Now, let's see if we can't figure out what you are, my little friend"

Today is the big day. We shall find out more specifically what our little Jelly Bean is. We're hoping for a masculine outcome, but if it is a girl, I'll be happy too because- hey, there go all possibilities of naming her Rutler.

Note: That is absolutely the first time I've ever quoted Star Wars (except maybe for a few cleverly annoying JarJar references.) Don't blame Jeremy: blame the Star Wars Kid.

In case you were unable to load the trailer from my last post, here is a different link.

The reason I am so intense about penguins is they are so intensely cute.

Do not feel sad. It is all right. Many things cannot fly.

For many years, I have considered the duck my favorite animal. Ducks are so hilarious to me, what with the waddling and the quacking and the dabbling underwater with their feet sticking out.

However, while Jeremy and I were in Chicago last week, I discovered my new favorite animal.

Exhibit A

En Garde!

I just learned after all these years that when I thought people were saying "on guard!" they were really saying "en garde!" It's not even really that important, you know, because on guard is the English translation of en garde, and in the end they both sound the same.

It's just that I feel so disillusioned.

Oh well.

PJ? I like that! You know I do! Hiss, put it on my luggage.

I like buying men's pajama pants because all of the women's pajama pants are too short for me. The other day I found some pj pants in the guys section that really had no right being there. Cute for a girl and really gay for a boy(see gay color swatch).




I bought them because I liked them, and also because I didn't want a man buying them. Jeremy's probably getting sick of seeing these pants because currently, they are the only pants that are comfortable for me to wear with my new magical expanding stomach. I'm at the the most awkward phase of pregnancy. Not looking pregnant but not being able to fit into my clothes.

"IT STINKS!"

I've been having my first true pregnancy craving. It's really quite unfair that my first craving had to be for a smoothie that I can only get in College Station... at A&M. The next thing I know I'll be craving Dinks in Bartlesville. Mmmmm....Dinks.

D'OH!

Go away.

I'm sicking of seeing this face everytime I log into my Yahoo mail.

The trees are stripped bare of all they wear, What do I care.

Well, tickets for the Houston U2 concert in October went on sale Saturday. The concert is on the 28th, which is two weeks and three days after our baby's due date. Clearly, I cannot go. At first I didn't care. Jeremy and I are going to the Chicago concert in May, so I was pretty happy that I get to go to at least one. The thing is-- Jeremy and I have seat tickets for Chicago, but for Houston, Jeremy wanted to get floor tickets so that he could get up nice and close. Well, on Saturday, Jeremy went to stand in line at Randalls in Spring to try and get tickets, and he had me stay at home and try and get tickets online. Surprisingly enough, we were both able to get general admission tickets for the concert. Completely forgetting that I wasn't gonna get to go, I go so excited that we actually got tickets... and then I realized... oh yeah. So, Jeremy, Andrew, Trent and Jenna get to go instead. I know that by then I'll have a baby and I won't care about the concert as much, but for now I'm a little depressed. Jeremy and I were talking about it and we decided that instead of holding the whole "I was in labor for ____ hours with you!!!" over our kid's head, I will be able to hold the whole "you made me miss a U2 concert!!!" thing over his head. It will be great. Is it healthy that I'm already thinking of ways to make my kid feel guilty? Probably not, but it helps me pass the time.

"We figured there was too much happiness here for just the two of us, so we figured the next logical step was to have us a critter."

Man, I am SO pregnant.

It's been pretty weird for both me and Jeremy because it still seems very abstract. I mean, I haven't been to the doctor yet, and it will be two more weeks until we get to see the first ultrasound (but amazingly enough I believe we will be able to hear the baby's heart beat at that first appointment. Un-be-lievable.) But until then, all we have to remind us that I am pregnant are annoying, but welcome pregnancy symptoms. The feeling I get several times a day that I need to eat or I'll hurl. The fatigue I feel after doing something as easy as washing dishes. The craziness (last night I almost put this

on my toothbrush instead of this

The emotions (weeping like a baby after the "Say Something" episode because Luke and Lorelai broke up-- which, to be honest, would have made me cry anyway, but normally would have produced only a few tears.)

And ALWAYS with the PEEING!!

Anyhow, I am pregnant and although I really don't feel so great most of the day, it's really the most amazing thing that has every happened to me. To think that God is using me as an instrument to create a person...

Here's what Parenting.com says about my baby this week:

"If you could see your baby now, you'd be able to make out her eyelids, the tip of her nose, and her upper lip. She's approximately three-quarters of an inch long from top to bottom, and her brain, spinal cord, heart, kidneys, liver, and stomach have begun to take shape. The aortic and pulmonary valves are distinctly present in the heart, which has now divided into right and left chambers and gallops at twice your rate (about 150 times a minute). She has distinct, slightly webbed fingers and toes and see-through skin."

(Boy, Lucy. That's amazing.)

So, everyday I am reminded constantly of a miracle occuring in my body.

Thought you ought to know.

Well, what if there is no tomorrow? There wasn't one today.

When Chekhov saw the long winter, he saw a winter bleak and dark and bereft of hope. Yet we know that winter is just another step in the cycle of life. But standing here among the people of Punxsutawney and basking in the warmth of their hearths and hearts, I couldn't imagine a better fate than a long and lustrous winter.

The fairer sex, but not the fairest

I don't understand. How is it that women can complain about men leaving the toilet seat up, but guys can't get upset about women not putting the toilet seat up when they're through using the restroom? I mean, it's bad enough that men have to touch the toilet seat to lift it and then have to touch it again to put it back down. Men, I insist that you start complaining about the inconsideration of woman. It's your turn to condescendingly say "Is it really that hard to lift the seat back up? Hmmmm??"

On my tombstone I want it to read " Amy hit the atmosphere, she caught herself a rocket ride out of this gutter."

Mustard? Don't let's be silly.

Oh, cruel fate!

Some girls look really pretty when they sleep.





And then there's me.

A man for all seasons.

(Per RvsB's request)

My evil plots are so unused and wasted.

As you well know or may have guessed, my Christmas gift to my grandmother (known to most as "Meemaw" and to some as "Cheetah Juanita") is a life-size cardboard cutout of our president (I'm typing this with the confidence that Meemaw will not somehow gain access to the internet before Christmas, and if she does that she will not stumble across Hello Please.) I made the purchase on Saturday, and decided to get as much use out of it as possible before having to hand it over to the old broad. Yesterday I got Cardboard George out of the trunk of my car, folded him out, walk up to the door of my apartment, knocked on the door, put Cardboard George in front of the door, and moved to the side. I think I really freaked Jeremy out (success!!) Then we moved him into the living room while we watched a movie (of course we turned Cardboard George so he could watch the movie as well.) After the movie, Jeremy went to the bathroom, returned and on seeing Cardboard George was startled once again. He then decided Cardboard George must lay flat on the guest bed, so that he would not make Jeremy wet his pants when he wakes up in the morning and goes into the living room. Now I am tempted to place Cardboard George in places that would really freak Jeremy out: in our entrance way for when he comes home, outside of the bathroom door for when he gets through going potty, on his side of the bed when he wakes up... Oh the possibilities! But I definitely have reservations about doing this. The first and obvious one being that he can do the same thing to me and it would scare the froop out of me. The second one being that it is indeed Christmas time-- and I gotta be good. Blast.

I love making up words like "froop".

I also love Christmas music; however, I left my Christmas CDs in Andrea's car, so I am forced to listen to "Sunny, 99.1 FM-- playing constant Christmas music until Christmas night!" The downside of this is that I sometimes have to be subjected to Christmas renditions that should not exist, such as Elton John's "White Christmas" and John Mellencamp's "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause" (shudder.)

Curiouser and curiouser.

Last night, as Jeremy and I were about to go to sleep, Jeremy said "Welp, I guess I'll see you in my dreams" to which he added "you'll probably be wearing a blue hat and a red shirt and a blue skirt, probably" (because he was tired and that is the sort of thing crazy people say when they're tired.) I then replied to him "You'll probably be wearing a yellow hat in my dream" to which he replied "and a monkey?" to which I replied "yes, and his name will be... " to which he interrupted "George."

Well, that wasn't as pointless as it seems. After I thought about that I thought "why did people call george's owner "the man with the yellow hat?" Did they not realize he was all dressed in yellow? Why not "the man dressed in yellow" or "the man in yellow"? Sure, call this guy "the man with the yellow hat"

But not this guy.

Happy Christmas, Henri.

He's just so happy it's Christmas time.

The finest farewell there ever was.

Something amazing.

Hello please. As you may have noticed, there has been somewhat of a draught in my blogging. I'll just be honest with you. I only want to write what I feel someone else will want to read. Like a blog about what I drink every single morning or a blog about toads crossing a busy highway (AUGHHHH!!)* But I have not been feeling inspired lately, or "blogspired", if you will.

I'm in a blog slump.
a frog grump.
a dog rump.


(* a little Ernest allusion for my siblings)

Lootin' always be a good time.

Jeremy and I went out to eat tonight. We ate at Pappasitos.



Their salsa wasn't very good.



However, if you look closely, toward the top right, you will see a little man in my salsa. He's screaming.



About these chips, Jeremy said "these taste like a movie theater. " I tasted them expecting him to be crazy, but it was true. These chips tasted like a movie theater.



I got Flautas. They were good.



Jeremy got beef enchiladas.



He did not think they were so good.



We both had Dr. Pepper to drink.



It was quite good.



We had to put salt down to let our Dr. Pepper's know who was boss.



I had refried beans, and Jeremy had black beans. At one point he attempted to steal my beans.



So, I made him pay for supper.



Saul was our waiter.



I wanted to take Saul's picture, but Jeremy said I was going overboard.

Anyhow, this is what he looked like.

Common Potatoes.

Ducks are funny. They waddle. They quack. They have two legs with webbed feet. There are few things that make me happier than seeing a duck upside down in the water. Cat's are funny too, but in a different way. Actually, I don't know why cat's are funny. Somewhere along the way, Andrew made them funny for me.

Roaches are not funny. I hate to be one of those girly girls who can't handle killing insects on her own, but I suppose I am. Late last night, long after Jeremy fell asleep, I went into the kitchen to get some water. Then I saw him. Not Jeremy, a roach. My desire to ingore him and not have to kill him myself was strong, but my desire to not have a roach in my kitchen was even stronger. I grabbed some roach spray and did my thing. I was completely terrified, I squealed the whole time, but I did it. Then the worst part: picking it up. Glugch. (That was his name.) I grabbed a bunch of napkins, picked him up and dumped him in the trashcan. Then I went to bed and for ten minutes had the creeping suspicion that a roach was going to crawl up my leg. Well, I know I was pretty girly about it, but I killed that roach. I'm not girly about lizards and spiders, so there! (I've decided to end all my blogs with "so there." So there!)

My Bloody Valentine.

This is a screen shot from MY favorite Itchy & Scratchy episode. Drew think's it's second best, but I disagree.

It's Valentine's Day, and Scratchy has given Itchy a Valentine shaped like a heart that says "I love you." Itchy is touched, but feels bad because he did not have a card to give Scratchy. So, logically, Itchy rips Scratchy's heart out and gives it to him. Scratchy is touched! He takes his heart home and sets it atop a shelf and looks at it lovingly. Then Scratchy sits down and reads the paper. After reading the headline, he screams and frantically tries to grab his heart off the shelf, but it's too late.

So there.

Happy Birthday, Hello Please!

Yes, you heard right. Today Hello Please is 1 year old!

In that 1 year, Hello Please as accumulated 93 blogs. 93! Count 'em!

Today I ask that you all honor Hello Please by following your sentences with "please."

Observe:

"Hello, please."

"How are you, please?"

"Go away, please."

Do you think you guys can manage that?

Thank you, please.





First blog EVER:

Oct. 10, 2003

"Plastic pearls?? Whaaaat????"

Oh Snap!

Jeremy is in bed, so that means I am up all by myself. It's quite sad, really. I don't want to go to bed because it's only 11:32. I was trying to think of something to post. Then I decided I would measure my arm span-- fingertip to fingertip. Then something bad happened. I accidentally let go of the measuring tape, and it sped back to the base and slit my finger on the way. I post this picture as proof. You can see it, there, on my ring finger, just below the middle of the finger. That has never happened to me and I hope it never happens again. So I am going to try again. I have decided that I cannot do it alone. I must wake up Jeremy. He grunts and I take it as "go away". I guess you'll have to live without knowing my armspan. I can tell you how long my leg is though. It's about 43 inches from the bottom of my foot to my hip!!!! Whoa!

Grace, thy name is Amy.

I'm starting to notice that my clumsiness isn't decreasing as I get older. I had hoped that it would, but if anything, it has increased. I have never really seen myself as a clumsy girl, but it seems that every day I get scratched or bruised because of my carelessness. Someday, I hope to get pregnant, and I'm starting to get a little nervous for my future child as he/she abides in my womb. I guess the reason I am so scared about this is because...hey, i've had these long arms for a long time, and I am constantly scraping them on tables, counters and bookshelves. When I get pregnant, I will have a large ball of baby up front. ! . Maybe I should get some sort of body armor when I get pregnant?

By the way, as a testiment to my clumsiness, I was discussing this matter with Hannah at McAlister's Deli. I said "Hannah, I'm just so clumsy!" and as I said "clumsy," (I was talking with my hands, apparently) I knocked the table number off the table.

Photographic proof for September 17th blog.

Leapin' lizards!

You know those moments in life where you feel like you should do something, you hesitate, the moment is gone, and you regret your decision for the rest of your life? Well, I do.

Today, I was in my car talking to Jeremy. I parked and I noticed a small green lizard on my windshield wiper. My first thought was "Oh man!! I could totally make that little guy fly!" But I was too taken in by him. I couldn't stop watching him, sitting perfectly still, his tiny ribs showing with each small breath. He sat there for about a minute, and I just sat there watching him. My hand was on the windshield wiper switch. But I didn't do it.

Moral: Don't let life pass you by. When you see an opportunity, seize it. For the love of mercy!!! Seize it!!!

Vera said that? Hmm.

The most random of songs popped into my head this evening: the Isle of Capri Casino jingle. I started singing it and was like "?". It actually brought up an interesting question. Was it:

I love, I love, the Isle of Capri Casino...

or was it:

Isle of, Isle of, the Isle of Capri Casino.

Jeremy thought it was the latter, but I disagree. What do you think? (And don't act like you don't remember that jingle. It used to be all the latest rage.)

It's gettin' gnatsy up in here.

But seriously... there are gnats in my house. I left the house for a few days last week, the trash did not get taken out, and now there are gnats in my house. I'm not one to point the finger of blame, but...

Observe how healthily, how calmly I can tell you the whole story.

I washed a lot of clothes yesterday. I did not fold them. Instead, I threw them in a pile on our newly purchased papasan. I am leaving for College Station in just a couple of hours. In that time I need to take a shower... and fold those clothes. For a while I just stared at the clothes thinking "I need to fold those clothes," but I decided I didn't want to, so I came in here to occupy my time in a different way. As I sit down to check my email, in my peripheral, I see it: The pile of clothes (the papasan being in my direct vision from the computer desk.) I sit here and type this blog, thinking the pile can wait. But still I can see it. I try to keep my eyes straight, but I can still see it. Why won't it just leave me alone?! It seems to be getting larger. I shut the door. Surely that will take the pile far from my mind. But no. Even as I sit here typing, the pile is always on my mind. I can think of nothing else. I know what must be done, and I must do it. I must burn the clothes.

I'm lovin' it.

A couple of days ago, I was eating breakfast with my brothers at a McDonalds in Longview. We were sitting by a window facing the playground and there were these two little black boys playing on the playground-- I'd guess one was about 7 and the other about 5. Well as I was talking with my brothers, Andrew looked out the window and goes "whoa!!" Well, you know how most (maybe all) McDonalds have a statue of Ronald McDonald sitting on a bench by the playground? Well, the younger kid was sitting next to Ronald and kissing him on the mouth! The funniest part about it is that he kept coming back for more. We kept watching him and laughing... and when he'd run by Ronald we' d be like "come on! Kiss him again..." and he always would (he couldn't see us or hear us.) It was crazy. Anyhow, it was just one of the funnier/weirder things I've seen in a while. Oh yeah, and Andrew was able to take a picture of it with my camera phone. He didn't get a picture of him actually kissing Ronald, but an even better one of him looking in our direction like he'd been caught. It was awesome.

Just re-entering my favorite blog...

One of the weirdest things my husband has ever said.

For lunch I picked up some food and met Jeremy on campus so we could eat together. Well, he got full and decided to throw part of his sandwich on the ground. I told him he shouldn't have done that and he was like "what? Birds eat chicken.... WAIT...Do birds eat chicken? That would be like people eating monkeys."

Remember when Daddy hit the referee with a whiskey bottle? Remember?

See? You gotta leave a teaser blog like that last one to keep 'em coming. It was a lie though. I mean, I'm back... but 'better than ever'? Who knows.

So, I am in Longview, Texas right now. I am visiting my friend Libbo, previously known as Libby, originally known as Olivia. Well, I don't really know if her parents ever called her Olivia. Let me ask her.

"Hey Libbo. Did your parents call you Olivia when you were a baby?"

"No."

"So you've always been Libby?"

"Yeah, ever since I popped out."

So there you have it.

Anyhow, Libbo is from Wisconsin, but she moved to Kentucky and she is visiting me and Andrea. I know it doesn't really seem like she is visiting ME since she didn't come to MY place of residence. But that's ok. I come to her. I did have to leave my husband for a couple of days. I don't mind it so much but I really wonder how he gets along without me. You see, he's not so good at FINDING things. He did say he ate corn dogs tonight, so at least he knew to look in the freezer. Attaboy, Jarmo.

So, here's my blog. WAY overdue, a bit lacking, but I did blog.

And as I dip, you dip, we dip.

I'm back and better than ever.

Stay tuned.

$10.50 at Amazon.com

I had to join the party. Check it. I'm actually prouder of my ealier works, including What Is It? and Are There Ants in Your Pants?

All Feathers and Coke Cans

There was a time that I was working at A&M, and was able to meet Jeremy at a Chick-Fil-A on campus (I referred to Jukkity on how to spell Chick-Fil-A, b/c I can never really remember)... anyhoo, there was a Hispanic lady that worked the cash register, and every time she would finish a transaction, she would loudly say "Can I help you, NEXT!" So the whole time we were eating we could hear her every couple of minutes. "Can I help you, NEXT!" "Can I help you, NEXT!!" "CAN I HELP YOU, NEXT!!!" It's enough to drive someone crazy... but in a good way.

I was having a dream this morning and my mom and I were driving along, singing a song... and then my phone rang and I woke up. It was my mom! I was like "Oy! Mum..." (sorry, just got through reading Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone) oh yeah... I was all "Weird! I was just dreaming about you! We were singing a song together! It was a Michael Jackson song. NO wait. It was a Stevie Wonder song." Well, the point is, I sounded crazy and she probably thinks I don't remember that conversation. Ha! I showed her. Eat it.

That Tetris will swallow you whole and won't spit you out until 5 am

That subject pretty much sums up my last couple of nights... or, shall I say, mornings. Yeah, Jenna and I have found a new time-sucker for when Jeremy goes to bed. Jenna has returned to Kingwood, so I'm no longer alone during the days. The only thing better than being lazy is being lazy with someone else.

Of Grass Stains and Grace

This afternoon my brother, Andrew, called me from Alaska (he's on his honeymoon.) I was just about to leave for the store, so I just stayed on the phone with him as I went out to my car. I was walking in the front yard and Andrew was telling me a story... and all of a sudden I stepped in this little hole in the front yard. I fell hard and on my knees and one hand, and amazingly enough, I still managed to hold the phone up to my ear with my other hand. I hadn't screamed or gasped or anything like that so Drew was still talking to me. I never even told him I fell. Maybe I should have b/c I have no idea what he was telling me in that short amount of time. When I got to the car, I guess he had finished his story and I didn't know how to respond. I didn't want to say "Can you tell me all that again? I fell and couldn't pay attention to you", because HEY... he called me on his honeymoon. I don't want to go wasting his time. So all I responded with was a little "Man, that's so cool." I hope it worked. (Sorry, Drew.)

My birthday's on a Friday

Well it's Monday. My birthday's this Friday. I'm feeling pretty good. Kind of nervous about being 23. What if I like 22 better? Ya know, there's really no going back on something like this. People get older. We're all getting older.

On this birthday, I'm going to get a manicure and a pedicure. I'm also going to eat a steak.

Best blog ever? Probably.

I'm picking out a Thermos for you/No ordinary thermos will do/But the extra best Thermos you can buy/with vinyl and stripes and a cup built right in

Hello please! It's a little after 12:00am and I'm up all by myself. That hasn't happened to me very much since I've been married. About the whole year we've been married Jeremy would sit in bed and read or watch tv while I fell asleep. That was before he got a job and I got rid of mine. The past couple of nights I have been the one sitting in bed reading while he falls asleep. Not a complaint, mind you. It's just weird. So I decided to blog... and, oh yeah...wash some clothes.

Jeremy and I watched Flight of the Navigator tonight. Man. I hadn't seen that in so long. If you haven't seen that movie then go out and rent it. It just came out on DVD you know.

At 11:00 this morning, I watched The Makeover Story on, what else but, TLC. Then I watched Trading Spaces, and I started thinking how boring it would be to have to film those shows. I'm sure most of the camera people are of the male persuasion. I only know a couple of men who can sit through an entire TLC show (my Jeremy not being one of them)-- and these cameramen have to film every single episode... and then some. Is this making sense? Am I getting through to you?

Also, does TLC still stand for "The Learning Channel"? It definitely seems like "Tender Loving Care" more than anything.

Oh crap. Is this what my blogs will turn into now that I'm at home all day? Just talk about TLC and washing clothes? And what if I get pregnant? Will I only blog about what trimester I'm in and my morning sickness woes? No. I can not. I will not. Hello Please will be the best it's ever been.

Ooh! 12:30!! Time for Golden Girls.

I feel pretty

Isn't my blog beautiful? I feel the change was appropriate. I am no longer working. Now, my husband is working and I am at home all day. We'll call this the Housewife Version of Hello Please. So yeah... my plans today: clean, eat lunch, and maybe go watch a movie by myself. (Pathetic, isn't it?) It feels pretty weird being at home, but I think I might be able to get used to it.

You can take this job and restaff it

Well, after about 9 months, my career at Hanover Compression is finally coming to an end. Yes sir, this is my last week here and I'd like to take a minute and reflect on the good times. Well, there were all those times that I got to leave early... and then all those times when I got my pay checks. Well, that's about it. If there has been anything I have learned from this job is that prejudice and sexism are still very much alive in kicking in the world to day. I have also learned that certain people in my family aren't as white trash as I thought they were. Anyhow, this is my last week, and they've hired a new girl to replace me. Coincidentally, her name is Amy, she is 6'1", and has brown hair. I never knew exactly how replaceable I was until that girl walked into her interview. But, as the saying goes "don't be irreplaceable, or you will never get promoted"... or as I prefer it "be replaceable so you can quit whenever you want." Amy, from Hanover. Out.

Traveshamockery

Nothing much to say. I just heard my boss get mad and say "Santa Maria gonneria" and felt it was worth noting.

Oh, Mr. Gallagher

I was taking care of my friend's kids the other night-- Hudson and Harper, ages 2 and 3. Before I laid Harper down for bed she picked this counting book for us to read. Well, there wasn't much reading going on. She mainly just counted stuff. That went on for some time and then it was time for bed. Well, I said a quick prayer and then asked her if she wanted to pray-- she didn't answer me but closed her eyes and said "one, two, three, four, five..." I was like "Harper, that's counting, not praying." She kept doing it, so I said, "ok, well you don't have to pray." Then she closed her eyes and said "Dear God! I pray for my mommies mommies, and my mommies mommies, and my mommies mommies and my mommies mommies and my mommies mommies and my mommies mommies, and my friends friends and for the people who don't have enough food food..." and then she muttered something that sounded like "and I pray for the cat in my yard."

Your money's on the dresser, baby. I'm done with you

Apparently a lot of guys from Hanover (the place I work-- pay attention) are going on a weeklong trip to Las Vegas. Well, the main boss guy was leaving and right before he walked out the door (which is fairly close to my desk) he starts singing at the top of his lungs "VIVA LAS VEGAS! VIVA LAS VEGAS!!" Fran heard him leaving and she said "I can't believe you're going there by yourself (meaning without a girl) You won't have anyone to take care of you." He said "Oh yes I will." Fran said "so, you're bringing a girl with you? What, you got a hot date, Rick?" To which Rick replied, "not yet, but I'll buy her when I get there."

Blegh.

The buildings are changing into coconut trees

I keep feeling like I need to sneeze. I have had that funny sneeze look on my face all day long.

Yesterday, as I was eating with Caroline in the park, I noticed a little smudge of bird poop that looked like a ferret.

I cut 5 1/2 inches off my hair.

Every word is nonsense, but he understands

One thing that has changed since I've been married is that now when I do crazy things in my sleep, someone else sees it. I did know about a few of my nocturnal quirks before I got married-- mainly b/c they woke me up (either b/c I was being too loud or I ran into something.) But I really didn't know how frequently I would do these things. Two things I've said recently are.... "Twice the size of a human heart?" and "Hey! Free me!" I'm kind of disturbed by this. I feel bad for Jeremy-- I'm afraid I'll say something one day that will really freak him out, but he seems to think it's funny. Besides I think he really enjoys telling me the next day. He's always like "Amy, do you remember what you said last night?" Chances are, I don't.

Madam, We must have waffles! We must all have waffles forthwith! We must think, and we must all have waffles

I HATE when you come to a four way stop, and either get there at the same time or after another person who is also stopping at that intersection, and you wave the person on... then they ignore your wave and continue to wave you on. I have never understood this.

If you ever happen to be watching MTV when "I Want a Famous Face" and it's a "girl" who wants to look like Jennifer Lopez, just turn the channel, because that "girl" is definitely not a girl.

I hate saying "ASAP" so from now I'm going to say "ASNAP".

Join us next time for more
TALES OF INTEREST!

Everybody, to the limit

For those of you who didn't have the chance to go to the Daniel Hoppel Jr. link in Jukkity's last blog, I'd like to share the most unbelievably nerdy quote of it all. I mean, I love Harry Potter as much as the next 10 year old kid, but I believe this is taking your nerd sensibilities a bit far. Enjoy.

"I realized something about Harry Potter: I am Harry Potter. We all are. We all are Harry, and Hermione, and Ron, we’ll always be running away from the Snapes and Filches in our lives; we’ll always be going to the Dumbledores for advice and protection; we’ll always be fighting with the Crabbes, Goyles, and Malfoys; and ultimately, we’ll all have to face our own Voldemorts. But, above all else, above the laughter, fear, anticipation, friendship, love, and happiness that Harry Potter has given me, he has given me one more lasting sentiment: What will come, will come. And when it does, we will face it. But until then, we can enjoy everything there is to enjoy about life, for as far away from Hogwarts as we may seem to be, we are closer than we can ever imagine."

G'night.

One of the weirdest things my husband has ever said.

For lunch I picked up some food and met Jeremy on campus so we could eat together. Well, he got full and decided to throw part of his sandwich on the ground. I told him he shouldn't have done that and he was like "what? Birds eat chicken.... WAIT...Do birds eat chicken? That would be like people eating monkeys."

Ups and downs, strikes and gutters.

Ah yes. Back in Texas: where I belong. Jeremy and I were visiting Jon in Los Angeles (or as Jeremy likes to refer to it "New York City's gay cousin"... L.A., not Jon.) I guess I should say that I liked it more than I thought I would. I used to go to California as a youth and acquired quite a hatred for it. It turns out, it wasn't as bad as I thought, but not better either(?). I guess like most states in America, it has it's good and it has it's bad. I thought the mountains were very pretty, and they DO have Disneyland and other wonderful things, but all in all, it's the bunk. High points of the vacation: seeing a Spider Man impersonator crouch on top of a trash can on Hollywood Blvd, the whole upstairs section of the Warner Bros. museum being Harry Potter stuff, Jeremy taking my picture next to many Stars Hollow landmarks, seeing Ray Romano on the on our Warner Bros. tour, and getting a Mickey Mouse hat and then having them embroider my name on it (nice.) A couple of bad points were us driving out to Magic Mountain only to find out it was closed, and me getting sorted into Hufflepuff. Let's change the subject.

You know how sometimes you are having a bad day, but it's kind of funny? Well, firstly, my morning started off pretty bad just b/c I hate coming back to work after a week's vacation. Secondly, I sliced my thumb on my gear shift as I was leaving my house to come to work, thirdly I got stuff all over my pants on my lunch break, but didn't realize until I was out of the house, and lastly but not leastly (hehe) I had to swerve into oncoming traffic (a little less bad than it sounds) to avoid Jeremy's side of the car being hit by a BAD driver (yeah, that had me shaking for quite a while.) Anyhow, surprisingly enough, I'm in a great mood, perhaps b/c I get to pick up our CA pictures after work (and it's already 4:23.) Perhaps it's b/c I get to hang with Pidge Pie later. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

The Karoake Rat.

Is it cheating for the sole content of my blog to be a link to my brother's blog? Well, I don't care, and I'm sure you will be able to forgive me once you've read his. Have some fun.

The hardest button to button.

I got a backyard with nothing in it except a stick, a dog and a box with something in it.

Something wicked this way comes.

Something scary happened to me as I was getting a drink at the gas station. Well, you know how behind the drinks, there's a room where the employees go to refill the drinks? Well, right as I was grabbing a Dr. Pepper, a man, apparently lifting a HEAVY drink case, made a loud grunt. Since I didn't know anyone was back there doing such things, it sounded a lot like growl from a monster or something. Yeah. It scared me and I shut the door quickly. That is all.

C is for Cookie.

I bought a cookie from Great American Cookies today, and I just happened to read the back of the bag, and man, oh man, they are WAY too intense about their cookies. Observe:

"We know you're getting ready to smile, because you're about to have a lot of fun eating this cookie."

I don't mind saying I had minimal fun eating that cookie. It was delicious but... "a lot of fun?"

"I bet a funny thing about driving a car off a cliff is, while you're in midair, you still hit those brakes! Hey, better try the emergency brake!"

uoY yam evah deciton taht m'I ton lla ereht flesym...

I saw tsuj gnittis ta ym ksed dna I detrats gnirednow woh drah ti dluow eb ot epyt gnihtemos sdrawkcab. ylgnisirpruS hguone, I dnuof ti rehtar ysae. nehT I tog ot sdrow ekil "ylgnisirprus", chihw I dnuof etiuq drah ot epyt. tI yam mees egnarts ot uoy taht I dluow neve tis ereh dna epyt sdrawkcab rof on tnerappa nosaer, tub I llet uoy, I ma os derob ereh ta krow dna I erugif taht neve fi I od gnihtemos taht smees yzarc, ti si yllaer gnipleh em peek ym ytinas. m'I gnitrats ot kniht taht siht is lacisnesnon dna I dluohs pots. m'I osla gnitrats ot kniht taht I t'nod esu hguone semordnilap ni ym yreve yad yralubacov. ll'I won yas doog yad ot uoy, ris.

It reminded me of Robin Hood...

...And the part where Little John jumped from the rocks to the Sheriff of Nottingham's back, and then Robin and everyone swung from the trees in a sudden surprise attack, and they captured the Sheriff and all of his goods and they carried him back to the camp in the woods and the Sheriff was guest at the dinner and all but he wriggled away and he sounded the call and his men rushed and the arrows flew... Peter Rabbit did sorta that kind of thing too.

His name is Minky Boodle.

Man, I am in a GOOD mood. It is only 3:18 and we are closin' up early today! Whoohoo! So that is over an hour and half that I get paid for, but don't have to sit in this stinky, cold office. Sweet.

I'm afraid I'm going to have to post "Merriam-Webster Online"'s word of the day. The word is:

flapdoodle • \FLAP-doo-dul\ • noun
: nonsense

Example sentence:
"That whole business with the gypsy fortune-teller was just a lot of fabricated flapdoodle," snorted General Rumsey, "and you shouldn't believe a word of it."

There is no reason that each and everyone of you shouldn't use this word from now on, as much as you can. I challenge you to add this to your daily vocabulary, and maybe you can use it next time you see me. Besides, it's not only fun: it's educational.

Please don't kill me, Freaky Jason.

It's Friday the 13th!!!! AUGGGHH!!!

Well, I be done seen about everything, when I've seen an elephant fly.

Whoa! It's SLEETING outside! That's kind of like snow, right? RIGHT? Well, we will say it's snow. So, it's snowing outside. Gosh, don't you just sometimes feel like it's never going to stop SNOWING?! And don't even get me started about all the snow plows on the road. Goooood grief! I mean, what is this? Miami Beach?! Not hardly.

When I'm trying to wake up in the morning, my will power and common sense are not the best of friends.

"She's gone. She gave me a pen. I gave her my heart, she gave me a pen."

Sweet. My boss gave me this yesterday. I really feel that I'm moving up in the company.

Let's all go to Boldlygo.

Oh yeah... this isn't a song lyric, but I always heard it wrong. I used to watch the old Star Trek's (Oh, bite me. That show rocks.) Anyhow, as a kid when I heard "to boldly go where no man has gone before..." I always thought "Bodlygo" was a place they were trying to go (you know, they were traveling in space all the time, they must be trying to get somewhere.) Anyhow... I hadn't seen Star Trek in quite sometime, so I hadn't had a chance to use my advanced adult intellect to figure it out--- until last year. My sister said that line for some reason, and I was all "OH MY GOSH!" So I told her and she had a good laugh. The end.

Excuse Me While I Kiss the Sky.

I found a website that is an archive for misheard song lyrics... it's called "Kiss This Guy". Well, after reading some of these, I felt inspired to share with you all a few lyrics I have misheard over the years.

The Patty Duke Show theme song: Some of you may not even know this song, but I used to watch this show a lot as a child.
What I heard: One pair of matching booklets, different as night and day.
Reality: One pair of matching bookends.

Counting Crows "Perfect Blue Buildings."
What I heard: Sleeping perfect blue buildings
Reality: Asleep in perfect blue buildings.
--- I had emailed Jeremy and "Sleeping blue buildings" was my subject title, and in the body of the email I said "That song makes no sense. "

Blind Melon "No Rain"
What I heard: "All I can do is just pull some teeth or two."
Reality: "All I can do is just pour some tea for two."

There are plenty more where that came from. I don't understand how my brain works. If I really thought about it I would be like "that doesn't make any sense" and I might try to figure out what it really says. But I just sing those wrong lyrics as loud as I can.

Here's Sprite in your Eye.

If you think I have nothing better to do than to tell you about me loading the coke machine, then, well sir, you're wrong. So... as I was loading the coke machine, I had a couple of "incidents." Before I tell you what happened, I must describe a few things about the coke machine. Well, you all know of the big door you have to open to get into the coke machine. Well, after you open that door, there is a swinging gate like thing guarding the cokes to prevent them from jamming the machine. Anyhow, I had this gate open and was grabbing one of the packs of Diet Dr. Pepper (blegh)-- and i accidentally hit the edge of the gate and cut my thumb. It hurt and bled a little, but I persevered. I then proceeded to grab a pack of Sprite and all of a sudden Sprite started squirting everywhere (apparently, I had knocked one of the Sprite cans into the sharp edge of the gate.) It first sprayed directly into my eye, causing me to yell "SHNAP!!!" Then, blinded by the Sprite, I continued to hold the pack in my hand, allowing Sprite to spray in every direction. I then had to clean off all the cans and then clean the floor. So, this morning didn't start out so hot. I'm guessing it can only get better. Here's hopin'.

Well, it's Groundhog Day..... again.

This is pitiful. A thousand people freezing their butts off, waiting to worship a rat. You know, Groundhog Day used to mean something in this town. They used to pull the hog out and they used to eat it. You're hypocrites. All a ya.

Oh geez, Bonaduce!

Yeah, I'm a little annoyed. I spilled milk on my trousers this morning! GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. I REALLY want to type that "spilt milk" line, but some things are just too obvious.

Seven Eight Nine.

When I was a kid, I somehow came to the conclusion that numbers had personalities. I would even see them as male or female (even though 8 is the only female, and I think that's b/c of her shape. Oh, come on. It makes sense.) So, today I thought I would take time and share with you the way little Amy would see numbers.

1: The talented number
2: The shy number
3: The cool number
4: The nerdy, but kind number
5: Ooh!! The meanest of the numbers. I hated 5.
6: The nicest of the numbers
7: The leader of the numbers-- very smart.
8: The motherly number.
9: Oh, he's a big teddy bear.

I know what you're thinking. "Amy was a stupid kid." And all I have to say is: "I know you are, but what am I?"

"It's not true. Some people have great stories, pretty stories that take place at lakes with boats and friends and noodle salad. Just no one in this car. But, a lot of people, that's their story. Good times, noodle salad. What makes it so hard is not that you had it bad, but that you're that pissed that so many others had it good. "

All right, meow.

There is a guy at my work who just got off the phone (big hick) and I SWEAR he just said "All right, meow" at the end of his conversation.

Daddy, these rubber pants are hot.

Man, I've said it once, and I'll say it again: I hate when stuff you don't want to happen happens. I got back from my lunch break around 12:45, and as I was getting out of my car, my purse strap caught onto the glass of water I had sitting in the cupholder, and the water spilled all over my seat. I hadn't completely stood up yet, so I got water all over my be-hind. Oh man. That is frustration. I wouldn't have cared so much if I were at home, but since I was about to go in to my place of employment, it was a bit frustrating. So I wrapped my sweatshirt around my waist. My pants are still wet, but should be dry before too long. Just wanted to share that with you.

Side story: I just go an email from my sister and she said that she was looking for purses at Bealls the other day and she really liked this one because her phone fit perfectly into this little side holder. She got home and realized she didn't have her cell phone with her-- and later concluded she had left it in one of the purses at the store. She ended up calling Bealls and one of the employees there looked through the purses and found her phone. Ha. Well, the point of this story is this: It's time like these that I realize most how alike my sister and I are. I have never done this exact thing, but I have left my wallet lying on top of a big pile of folded shirts at a department store... and in a dressing room... and in a bathroom(s)... and on top of my car (as I proceeded to drive through a car wash.)

Big Fish rocks.

Ahhh, what an awful dream! Ones and zeroes everywhere... and I thought I saw a two!

Ok, so I had this recurring dream last night. I can't really remember how long I've been having this dream, but I'd guess it has been a couple of years. So here's the dream: I'm high school age, but I haven't been going to school at all. And I realize this in my dream and I start FREAKING OUT! I'm like "Man, I'm going to get in so much trouble." And I keep trying to force myself to go back to class but I am too afraid of hearing my teachers berate me for never showing up for class.

I know that seems like a stupid dream and not worth noting, but it's actually quite scary. It's like the dreams I had before my wedding about me being somewhere else and realizing my wedding was supposed to start an hour ago. Anyhow, that school dream is not the only recurring dream I have. I just wanted to share it. I think recurring dreams are so interesting that next time I have one, I'll tell you about it. It will be great. You just wait. I know right now it seems you can't wait, but trust me, it will be great.

It's beer o'clock, and I'm buyin'.

Hiya. Man, it feels like ages since my last blog, doesn't it? And for that, I am sorry. I really hope there are no bad feelings. Jeremy and I have been out of town a lot since he has been on break-- and I am leaving for Tyler again today. Oy! It will be cool though because I get to see Jeremy (who has been off to California since Tuesday,) I get to see Gus Jr. (do I really have to call him Andrew?), and I get to attend The Ben's wedding!

So about that "subject"... that's what my boss said when it was "quittin' time" yesterday. "All right let's go! It's beer thirty." I've heard tell of people using that phrase, but had never witnessed it in it's full glory. It was beautiful.

I have a feeling this won't be the last you'll hear of me today.