this lady looks distressed, doesn't she?

but guess what. 

she has it easy.

see the sun shining through the trees behind her?
see her long-sleeved cozy sweater? {...even though the sun is shining through the summer-leafed tree...}
see her perfect hair and manicured nai...oh wait. that's not relevant.

one wednesday morning...well, no...actually, it was a tuesday night...i unwittingly locked my keys in my car because i didn't immediately get out after i turned off the car. i was on the phone, so i took out the keys, put them on the seat beside me, and sat in the car for about 10 minutes. when i was done, i picked up my purse and coat, stepped out of the car, locked the door, shut it, and went inside.

but i didn't realize my mistake until wednesday morning...5 minutes before Joey needed to leave for work in my car.

now.

under normal circumstances, i would've gotten a wire hanger, finagled it into the car thru the crack, and hit the unlock button.

BUT.

during the night, it had iced. and it was still under 20 degrees outside {chill factor of 5 degrees, by the way}, which meant that the door was frozen shut. 

no way was i going to stand outside {in the freezing cold} and try to push thru the thick layer of ice barring my way to the unlock button.

so we called the locksmith thinking that it would cost around $40. he finally came 30 minutes later. and, standing in the freezing {freezing freezing} cold in my pajamas, he said that it would cost...wait for it...$100.

yes.

you heard me.

one hundred. bucks.

no way. hosea.

and i told him so. to his face. {in the freezing cold.}

not in those words, of course.

but he took pity on me and offered to call his boss and see if he'd let him knock it down a bit. which his boss did. 30 dollars worth.

i had no choice. i had to accept. {in the freezing cold}

blah.

a few days later, Joey asked if he could borrow my car to take to work. so i went to find the keys. i looked in my purse. in my room. in my pockets. on the bar. on the couch. in the couch cushions. 

no luck.

here's how my thought process went.

"oh no...i didn't immediately (please, God) get out of my car this afternoon (please, God, don't let them be locked in). this is horrible. OhGodohGodohGodohGodohGod."

{please don't misunderstand and think that i was taking His name in vain. no. it was a genuine plea to Him.}

i ran out to my car and peered through the glass. 
there they were. 
on the seat. 
just like before.

 my inner Luke Skywalker yelled, "Nooooooooooooo!!!!!" 
{yes, i did just reference Star Wars and reveal my nerdity.}

 i walked back into the house, head hung low, and told Joey.
Joey, being the sweet man that he is, didn't tease me, didn't heave a sigh.
he just said he would look at it and see if he could get it out. 
we went out to the car.
Joey tried the door handle.


and it opened.

and Joey, being the annoying man that he is, teased me unmercifully. {i love you, Joey.}

now.
would i rather lock my keys in the car than have my car stolen because i was dumb enough to leave the keys in it with the door unlocked?
yes.
but God was merciful to me.
He let me be dumb.
{oh wait...He doesn't have to let me. i can do that all by myself.}

the moral to this story ----
always, always check to make sure the car isn't unlocked.

he'd have to fix his vocabulary first

Dalton: "Eleanor, I just want you to know that I would not hesitate one second to marry you. If I were a beau, that is, and you were a beau...ess..."

politics

Cord (sitting in front of the drawer full of movies): "Denman, you can pick the movie tonight."

Me: "Aw, that's very sweet of you, Cord. Such a good big brother."

Cord: "Your options are Toy Story 3 and Sky High."

i find it funny that for guys, collar shirts are dressier, but for girls they're considered casual.

please don't eat the whole bowl of icing, joey

barbara got a little cookie kit before christmas, but never got around to getting it out and actually doing it. so yesterday, being a biting cold and windy day, the sort that makes you want to bake, we made and decorated gingerbread cookies. 

here are barbara's and the little boys'. can you guess whose is whose?

a hint for you: cord fell in love with the mini chocolate chips and got a little carried away.

the two left cookies are mine, and the right one is joey's.

christmas is long gone and valentine's day is just around the corner, so we decided to turn them into love cookies. 

since our creations had such life and sparkle, joey and i gave them personalities.
the gingerbread boy on the left is the smart, preppy son with a can-do attitude. the one on the right is the slobby, deranged son who stays at home all day and plays video games.

the end.

this, my friends, is Yarni the Sheep. 

(Yarni has always been known throughout the herd for his piercing green eyes and aggressive nature. ewes warn their young, "don't let Yarni's car salesman grin fool you. if you look straight into his eyes, he'll think you're making fun of them and bite you.")

he is here today to give us a lesson in stalking.

(it's funny 'cause sheep are basically the least predatory animals ever.)

this is Yarni's cousin, Blanki.

(he is known for his lopsided nostrils and fat legs, as well as his retiring disposition. although he is kind and never wishes to cause anyone harm, he is also somewhat thick-headed and does Yarni's bidding very trustingly.)

he is here to...well, he's just here.


::4 days later::
i'm sorry, but the stalking lesson will have to wait until another day.
Yarni and Blanki had to rush away to see their grandfather who is currently recovering from...you know.
they will join us again someday.

::hides face in embarrassment::

yes, i realize that i've been in TX nearly a month and haven't posted once.

so much for sturdy resolves.

i don't really know where to begin, though. it's all running together in my mind and not making much sense.

first off, let me say that it's amazing to live 4 minutes from target, dsw, sephora, old navy, etc, etc...not that i've really taken advantage of that...but even just the knowledge is kinda cool. and i'm also just 8 minutes from a really nice outlet mall and an ikea (amazing!). and 2 minutes from HEB, the best grocery store in the world because of the incredibly tasty tortillas that they make in the store. you can buy them still warm. yum.

i promise that this blog won't degenerate into posts solely about cute things the little boys have said, but here are some kickers, all courtesy of Cord. 

"my tummy has a headache."

"Eleanor! do you want to come watch Sleeping Beauty and the Beast with me?!"

"pink is a serious color."

"i didn't know you back then because i was a little baby that drank milk all the time."

after some serious thought and consideration, i've decided to announce my dark secret.

i like candy corn.

in fact, i could easily become addicted.

thank God for a tight budget.

and don't judge me.

Yes, I am aware that the first part of the first sentence sounds like a movie trailer.

What would it be like to live in a world where the only person who formed your opinion was yourself? Think about it. Every single thought that you have, every like or dislike, and every decision that you make is somehow biased or shaped by someone else. 


What if we lived in our own little bubbles, and weren't affected by anyone or anything but the own creativity and originality of our own minds.


How would it affect our individual fashion styles? Our music tastes, our food tastes? 


I mean, seriously, who decided that raw fish eggs are a delicacy, and that extremely distorted guitars, static, and screaming lyrics sound good and therefore should have an entire following just to themselves?


It's interesting to ponder. Would you really wear that outfit if you weren't considering how other people would view it, and by extension, you?

i'm having 6 teeth out in the morning.
and they're going to cut holes in my face...er...under my face...in my gums.








and katie, if you take a picture of me while i look like a black and blue chipmunk, you will pay the consequences. that black and blue chipmunk will turn into a howling, black and blue chipmunk of vengeance who will swoop down upon you in the dead of night and wreak havoc on your face. 'cause that's what howling, black and blue chipmunks of vengeance do. that's how they roll. so...watch it.

Re:

They Call Me Thumper, yes, I did actually do #9. I wish you could've seen it---you would've appreciated the amazing end result. 


Brian Regan is a comedian. I must educate you, Ceridwen.


I meant...Logan...but you're wonderful too, Pearl and Gwen! Just not over-protective. Or paranoid. Most of the time, at least. I'm just going to be quiet now.


Pearl, the chance to meet one, the chance to use one, the chance to eat ice cream with one, the chance to jump on the trampoline with one, the chance to marry one...that's what I meant. Just don't pass one up. Period.


Katie..."dimply mouth?" You make it sound as if I've got cellulite on my lips or something. Not a very pretty thought.

Julia's new t-shirt: "I save ducks."

One fine spring afternoon while walking around Blue Mountain College campus, I and my friends, Julia, Rachel, (with her dog Colby) and Vivian, visited the college pond on which a brand spankin' new dock had been built.

We dillied for a while, and then we dallied some and watched the ducks swim pleasantly along.  

 (they were mostly mallards like this fine fellow)

All of a sudden, the one closest to us spazzed out! He began violently flapping his wings and lunging in the water. 

 (kind of like this, but...not...'cause he was deep in the water. not a very effective swimming technique)

Immediately, of course, his friends swam for shore, quacking like it would save their lives. He tried to follow them, but made little headway, and Julia and I began to laugh. 

"Stupid duck. He's trying to fly practically underwater. He's probably mental."

Then we saw it. 

A huge, loathsome snapping turtle had caught the poor duck's foot in his mouth and was holding on with his powerful snapping turtle jaws!

(ok, so maybe it wasn't this big. but it thought it was. i know it did. he had that smug look on his grimy face. (and you'd best be fearin' the mullet. this guy is intense))

Then we started spazzing out.  

"Holy cow! That poor duck!" 
"It's prolly gonna be lame for life!" 
"What is the turtle trying to do, eat it??"
"Run for help! Call PETA!"
"Throw the dog in, maybe it'll go into underwater attack mode and take the turtle out!"

But the moment of truth finally came. We knew it was up to us to save this poor duck's life before the monster ate it...er...mauled it to death...or whatever it was trying to do, or it died from exhaustion.

 We quickly left the dock and ran (more like slow crawled. i'm tellin' you, this duck was not going anywhere fast) and tried to help it. We threw rocks at the turtle, we shouted, we tried to reach out and grab the duck and pull it to shore...nothing worked. 
Finally, the duck flapped its way over to a sand bar that was sticking out, and we took our chance. I held Julia's hand so that she could lean out further, and she took my shoe...

(something akin to this lovely jelly sandal, but red and not as ugly)

...and started hitting the turtle hard!

"Julia, Aim for the neck!  The shell is there for a reason!"

Wham!

She brought the now muddy jelly sandal down with all her Jones might and hit the turtle square on its scuzzy neck.

It promptly let go and rolled over in the water


"We don't think that's cute, idiot. Rolling over is only cute when dogs and babies do it."

Without stopping to say "Thank you" or "What a bit of luck you happened along, chaps, or I'd have been duck soup," the duck waddled quickly up the bank to join its comrades, who straightaway began peppering him with questions about his adventure.

"Dude! That was epic!"
"How did you survive??"
"Are you ok??"
"What was it like?!"

He very calmly ruffled his feathers, and if he had had fingernails, he would've blown them off and rubbed them on his vest...if he had had one.


"Psh, it was nothing. I've taken on snappers twice that size. All it takes is strong leg muscles, perseverance, and...strong leg muscles."

The ingrate.

All we got out of the deal was wet clothing and muddy shoes.

Oh. And joy that we had just saved...a duck. 

And kept a turtle from doing something that he would have doubtless regretted for the rest of his life. Now he won't have to lay awake at nights and struggle with his guilt. 

'Cause that's all we cared about, really.

I promise he doesn't know about domestic iniquity from experience.

Shafer just recently had to learn the preamble to the Constitution for school. Mama was quizzing him, and it went something like this.

Shafer: "..."

Mama: "We."

Shafer. "Oh, right. 'We'. 'We the people of the United States in order to form a more perfect union...'"

Mama: "Es...estab..."

Shafer. "Oh. Right. Establish justice..."

Mama: "Ins..."

Shafer: "Insure domestic iniquity..."

Needless to say, Mama made him work on it some more.

Why are they letting their kids listen to that?

But it's so funny.

{via meg fee}

One of the greatest moments in Andy Griffith history

After Jeb and Davis came to surprise Shafer for his birthday (He had just gotten thru having a haircut) ---

Mama: "I expected you to yelp or something."

Shafer: "Well, I couldn't really yelp with my shirt off."

Mama: "Oh, of course. Why didn't I think of that."

it caught my eye that several of my labels are put only on one post each. this post is to fix that.

i like working, especially if i get paid for it.    ...duh.

technology is crazy awesome these days. if you watch sci-fi movies from 5 years ago, their technology is just the same as ours is today. "it's just the same today, it's just the same today..."

"march comes in like a lion, what else? still the snow never melts..."

i like going places where lots of people are. it recharges my battery.

teddy roosevelt

i don't think i'd ever be able to vote with a certain party. i'll probably always be independent.

"i think that i shall never see a poem as lovely as a tree..." or something like that.

i'm almost at the length where i can get another haircut. i'm in the middle of growing my hair out. next stop: lily allen-esque shoulder length hair.

george grant's speech impediments have lessened over the years.

things are always funnier when it's a fat kid. think about it...jumping...running...sliding down the bannister...

my uncle joe digs up dinosaur bones.

i could be a very crafty person if i had the materials. crafty as in...craft lady...not foxy crafty.

alcohol makes me need to use the bathroom.

She needs to read the rest of the Bible

Aww, aren't they cute?

NO! You're wrong!

They're evil. 

They come into your home and think they can have full rein!

They die and leave their crunchy little carcasses right in the walkways!

Those are not the actions of something cute.

--Conversation with a Ladybug--

Me: "Um, hi, ma'am? What are y'all doing in my rooms?"

Ladybug (her name was Gloria): "We just came in here to hibernate for the winter, woman. You got a problem?"

  

Me: "You don't have very good manners for a ladybug."

Gloria: "Um...that's because I'm an Asian Lady Beetle, ignoramus."

Me: "Oh...well...even so."

Gloria: "Ahem...you were saying?"

Me: "Oh, sorry. No, it's fine that y'all are here, but do you think you could tell your family to quit dying right where I have to walk? It's kinda gross to step on them."

Gloria: "You're stepping on my cousins' bodies?!?! How can you be so crass?! How can you desecrate the dead like that?! Go around them, Big-Foot!"

Me: "I'm sorry! They're just so small, and when it's dark, I can't...really...see...them. Um...What do you plan to do about their funerals...burials...bodies...?"

Gloria: "Um...don't you read the Bible, heathen? It says, 'Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.' We just leave them. They'll disintegrate eventually. It's the best way."

Me: "But you expect people to step over them and not desecrate their bodies?"

Gloria: "Yep. I do. What are you gonna do about it?"

And with that, I promptly went and got the vacuum. I'm sorry, but I'm not about to take that much cheek from something so much smaller than I.