Saturday, September 30, 2006

And friends are friends forever...

Curses to you, Michael W. Smith, for writing the best friendship song EVER!

I need to issue a formal apology to my own family (mom, sisters, nephew, brother) because their pictures are loaded on a cd buried somewhere in one of our 32 suitcases. They will be posted soon. I promise.

My girls and their new cousin Kaitlyn, or as Ava and Juliet call her, Kutie-Grace.

I have no idea who this is. Put those guns away, cowboys.

Charlie caught a whopper.

I picked this guy up at a local bar. I said, "Hey baby, looking for a good time?" He said, "If you're selling, I'm buying."

Fellow former speech club nerd and anonymous reader extraordinaire, Giraldo.

Four girls who rocked Hardin-Simmons University in 1994.

...And seven of the eight children they now hold dominion over.

So all is well in coooooool Idaho. The windows are open, the babies are in bed and the daiquiries are being blended. This is the part where I eat some dinner and count my lucky stars for a blessed life.

Friday, September 29, 2006

I'm leaving on a jet plane. Don't know when I'll be back again.

Oh Texas, I hate to go.

When I get back to Idaho I'll post mucho pictures of friends and family and good times. Unless some of my friends and family prefer anonyminiinininty, in which case I'll use the Glamour Magazine "don't" rectangular black eye shading to protect their identities.

So I should be finishing up packing now. Right now. Any minute now. Still

Alright. Goodnight and good luck from Texas. Next time I'll be typing I'll be in Idaprude. Tee hee.

Monday, September 25, 2006

Are you wearing lip gloss or are your lips just greasy?

This is why I could never be a real writer. I've got nuthin' going on in my noggin' right now. Between family stuff, meeting up with my favorite Texans and spending time with my newly arrived husband, I haven't had the energy to jot down humorous anecdotes or political commentary.

I had one on Hugo Chavez but I accidently erased tit. (I'm giggling because I mistyped that last word...hee hee. Tit.)

Soooo anyhooo...what's an busy-heeded gal to do when she's got nothing to write about? A kreme, of course. A kreme? you say, what's a kreme? Glad you axed. Let me tell you. A kreme is a meme written by me, Kristi. Kreme. If my mama had spelled my name like this -Christy, it would be a chreme. Easy enough.

So today's kreme consists of completely random questions that I come up with in the next 10 minutes. There is no theme. Maybe this isn't like a meme at all....maybe the correct word is "questionaire".

Favorite president of all time: Abraham Lincoln
Who would you like to meet if you had a time machine: Jesus first, Elvis 2nd. Elvis in about 1956.
Favorite teacher of all time: Mrs. Anders, 3rd grade, Rowland Elementary, Victoria, Tx
First boyfriend: Will is the first I claim. I don't count the youth group boy from my jr. high years.
Favorite talk show host: Dick Cavett and Terry Gross
Least favorite talk show host: Jay Leno
Willy Wonka or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: Charlie. The other one freaks me out. Psychadelic boat ride...FREAKS!
Katharine Hepburn or Audrey Hepburn: I can't choose! Why am I asking myself to choose??!!
Favorite element on the periodic table: radon
Favorite movie ever: The Royal Tenebaums ties with American Graffiti
Favorite line from a movie: My legs are sweatin' mama. (20 points if you can identify the movie).
Most useless skill: I can tie my hair in knots with one hand. Learned that in church. I'm also pretty good at hand in "Down down baby, down by the roller coaster..."
Most valuable skill: I've taught my kids how to read. And knowing random song lyrics comes in handy occasionally. Oh...and I can predict the future by blinking three times and spitting on a crack in the sidewalk. I think sarcasm is useful but not everyone agrees.
Best feature: Will says I have fantastic boobs. I tend to agree.
Most narcissistic post: This one.
Favorite child: Psych!
Favorite tv show: Project Runway...where the HAIL is my chiffon?! I say this every morning when I get out of bed.
Anxiety dream: When I'm stressed I dream that I'm in highschool/college and I've forgotten to go to math class. Like for the whole semester. And I'm wondering if the counselor is going to let me drop it or if I'm going to have to go into the final with no preparation. I've got craziness going on in my head.
Mariah or Whitney? Whitney. I'm routing for that crackhead.
Superman, Batman or Spider-man? Superman. He's super, man.
Favorite safety rule: Stop, drop and roll.
Favorite dance move: Stop, drop and roll.
Most useless safety rule: Always wear seatbelts. If I wear my seatbelt, how am I supposed to hold my kids in my lap? I don't care what your "rules" are, I say kids first.
Most useless invention: Soap. Also vegetables.
Favorite compliment: see title of post.

So all memes end with a tag. This kreme does not feel it is appropriate to discriminate among readers by choosing who should fill in the same questions. I refuse to pick and choose. So I tag everyone reading this. Carla, Snadrs, Jennifer, Giraldo, Riley, Angel, Flipflop, Anonymous, Never-commenters, I tag you all. You can stick your answers in the comments or you can put them in your own blog. You can use my categories or make up your own. Like Tommy Lee Jones says, I don't ca-aire. Or you could ignore this harm done.

Whew...I'm glad I got that stuff off my chest. My fantastic chest.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Here's your chance! Here's your one and only chance... be AMERICA'S NEXT TOP POET!!!! I'm so glad ANTP doesn't make you wait in line for lengthy auditions. You just answer the spam mail with the title: Will, you could be America's Next Top Poet! and register with the site and submit your poem. You, too can be as recognizable as America's previous top poets...ummm....Robert Frost? Maya Angelou? I've got nothing.

On second thought, I'm looking at this entry form. Monthly $1000 prizes? Really? How's this:

He lightly tapped the table as she fried the eggs.
"I know about the purple crayon," she said.
"Damn you. It's over."
She flung the skillet at the wall.
"Peanut Butter!!!!!!!"

Or this:

Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
Where's Tyra Banks?
'Cause I'm America's Next Top Poet.

And you know that if you're ANTP you've got to go around wearing this. It's in the by-laws.

By the way, if you write poetry, I offer no condemnation or disrespect. But only if you're in the running to be AMERICA'S NEXT TOP POET.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

What's she doing? What is that? Ewwww...

Me: Charlie, stop gagging! You're fine. It's ok, baby.

Ava: I'm siiiiick.

Juliet: She's doing it again! Ewww!

Me: (driving) It's alright, baby. I'll get you cleaned up in a minute. Charlie, don't look at her! Stop gagging! Don't look at her!

Juliet: Aren't we going to turn around?

Me: Nope.

Ava: I feel siiiiick.

Me: I know, baby. Just give me a minute. (pushes button) I'll have 3, no 2 lime slushes and a large Dr. Pepper.

That's right. I kept driving. To Sonic. And that's right. She threw up again on the way home. You know you're a mama of three kids when the effort to get them into the car is enough to endure a 3 minute car ride of vomit. For Sonic slushes.

One of these days I'm going to write a more glowing story of motherhood. But it will probably be a lie.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Yes. I know I should've used the word 'unnecessary'. But I prefer...


ir re' le vant - having no bearing on or connection with the subject at issue. As in:

Michael Jackson is irrelevant now that Justin Timberlake has a successful sophomore album. We don't need his crazy bleachiness anymore. Justin + Usher = Why isn't Michael Jackson in the crazyhouse yet?

Local network news is irrelevant because no one really believes baby's sippy cup poses DEADLY and IMMINENT THREAT to your loved ones. And no one thinks the sped-up wacky bloopers are funny, either.

The Hollywood Star Walk of Fame is irrelevant as Amy Grant was recently honored with a star. With all of 7 movies to her credit, I'm takin' to the notion that Jesus himself bought her that space on the Walk of Fame.

Good dental hygeine is irrelevant since I can always get my teeth replaced with brilliantly white choppers.

MTV, or as I call it TVTV, is irrelevant. Period.

Michael Moore, Ann Coulter, Al Franken and Rush Limbaugh are irrelevant because they believe anyone who is does not subscribe to their world-views is irrelevant.

Also in the irrelevant category:

the US war on drugs
the bra if you're Kierra Knightly
panties if you're Lindsay Lohan or Paris Hilton
the UN
capitalism in Russia under Putin
and completely irrelevant to this post: NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO AND NO!

Don't you hate it when someone does a post even when they have nothing to say?

Saturday, September 16, 2006

The Emancipation of Meme

I never do memes. Who really cares what I ate for breakfast or what brand of feminine products I use (the cheapest)? But I've been tagged and since this meme is totally ROCK AND ROLL, I'm on it.

Coming from Riley at All Rileyed Up, the topic is My Ten Favorite TV Characters. Riley who, by the way, just wrote the awesomest sentences I've ever read in a blog, ever:

Yeah, you heard me. HIGH-LAN-DER. I love that show. I’d like to slap some bar-b-que sauce on it and eat that s*** up. Highlander also scores high in these other categories: Best Theme Song: Queen + air guitar = Crazy Delicious

There's no way I'm going to top that. I won't even try.

1. Laura Petrie - If I were a hot 1960s housewife with a bubble flip and skin tight capris, I'd be Laura Petrie. If I weren't a so-so 2000s housewife with unbrushed hair wearing whatever I picked up off the floor, I'd be Laura Petrie.

2. David Brent from the British version of the Office - I don't throw around the phrase 'complete and total jackass' very often. I'm quite discriminating when it comes to the 'complete and total jackass' label. David Brent qualifies:

I haven't got a sign on the door that says white people only. I don't care if you're black, brown or yellow - you know, Orientals make very good workers.

3. Ok...because I'm not going to come up with 10 great characters I have to also add Gareth from the British Office. Complete and utter jackass times two:

My dad, for example, he's not as cosmopolitan or as educated as me and it can be embarrasing, you know. He doesn't understand all the new trendy words - like he'll say "poofs" instead of "gays", "birds" instead of "women", "darkies" instead of "coloureds".

While I'm at it, I might as well include the entire casts of Reno 911 and Arrested Development on this one. And if you know what I mean when I say, "Chickens don't clap!" then you're cool like me.

4. Dot from MadTv - Oh mah heck I love this character. She puts the oreos on her eyes and says, "Someone took my eyeballs...mmmmmm....eyeballs are gooooood." Yeah...I'm easily amused.

5. Kevin Arnold from The Wonder Years. If I had had a boyfriend in jr. high/highschool, I would've hoped he was a little like Kevin Arnold. And if I had been as cute as Winnie Cooper, I might have had a shot with a guy like Kevin Arnold. Curses to big glasses and big bangs!

6. Dee from What's Happening? You find me a funnier character with better one-liners. Go on...I'm waiting. I'm here all night.

7. Sawyer or John Locke on Lost - Don't ask me how I keep up with the Lost episodes without tv. I'm not going to tell you. I don't need the Feds busting down my rented door. I try to not talk about tv characters as if they're real people. But that being said, Sawyer is the crazy bad guy you suspect has a heart o' gold, and John Locke is the crazy good guy verging on insanity. Just keep me away from Jack, OMHeck! He has got to stop trying to solve everyone's problems! Am I right? C'mon sista-girls, am I right???? Aaaaaand we're done.

8. Cousin Balki from Perfect Strangers - Standing tall. On the wings of my dreams. Don't be reediculous.

9. Alex P. Keaton - Alex fit in with his hippie family like I fit in with my family. They know what I'm talking about. I'm cool with Alex.

10. Becca from Life Goes On. Because I totally looked like her. And you always felt sorry for Becca. Yeah, Corky is the mentally handi-capable one, but Becca's the one keeping everything together. And she wasn't all anorexic like Carol Seaver.

11. Givin' a shout-out for my fave Kids Rule! shows: MMC (Diyman!), Kids Incorporated, and Rags to Riches. And does anyone else remember this show? I do. Because they had red hair. And one of them became a fashion designer...just like I wanted to be when I grow up! I am sooo like that girl. If only I had a twin.

I hereby tag Angel, Mrs. Chicky and Flipflop Mama. And I forgive you if you totally ignore your tag and secretly label me a loser.

Friday, September 15, 2006

Y'all gonna make me lose my mind. Up in here. Up in here.

Four everlovin' hours in the car with my monsters. It's a wonder I didn't have a heart attack before I hit Cuero. What I wouldn't give for my husband and some strawberry daiquiries about right now.


Charlie: You're going to grow up to be a criminal.


Charlie: That's a very HARD JOB TO GET!!!



Me: Stop blowing in each other's ears! That's just creepy.


Charlie: Stop putting napkins in my ears!!!


Ava (crying): Stop it!! YOUR A CRYBABY!!!

Juliet (giggling): No, I'm not. You're the one crying.

Ava (crying): No, I'm not! YOUR A LIAR AND YOUR TATTLING!!!

Me (swiping my arm behind me, the kids are hugging their sad little legs to their chests): STOP IT!!! STOP IT!!!!! STOP YELLING!!!! GRRRRRRR!!!!!


(All 3 jerks): clap-clap-stomp, clap-clap-stomp, We will, we will, ROCK YOU!! We will, we will, ROCK YOU!!!!


Charlie: Mooooommm. Juliet is hitting me and Ava took my glasses.

Juliet: giggle, giggle

Ava: I have your glaaasssseeess!

Me: Whatever. Don't talk to me until we get to San Antonio.


Yeah...soooo, yeah. Not my bright and shiningest moment in motherhood. Luckily there wasn't any pot or hard liquor in my mother-in-laws backseat so they didn't get too mischevious while I was on autopilot. Although some hard liquor wouldn't be too bad at the moment.

I've turn them over to the in-laws. My mama hours are over for the time being. (Exhale). I'm calling my husband.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Back to the movies. And the longest post EVER.

Believe it or not, there's a reason why my page looks like your granny's formal dining room. When we (we meaning Will) designed the page I had one major contribution. I held up my box set of Cary Grant movies (best Christmas present EVER from my beloved, thankyouverymuch) and I said, "I want it to look like a movie poster from the 1930s."

So we messed around (with the design, of course...what were you thinking, pervert?) and came up with the wallpaperish background and the art deco lettering and the picture of Claudette Colbert and some guy looking at my children in horror. Yes...I know it doesn't look hippity hoppity or bootilicious or whatever the kiddies are saying these days. I like old movies. And this looks like me. So if you're picturing me as one of the Golden Girls running this little blog, das cool wit' me. If I have to choose which Golden Girl, I'd pick Betty White. Just not the slut one...old ladies + sluttiness = scary ladyparts-doctor visits.

How the phrase 'scary ladyparts-doctor visits' ended up in my blog, I'll never know.

So we're back to my own version of movie recommendations. Descending from the 70s (I didn't think anyone would stomach my killer reviews of Working Girl and Urban Cowboy so I skipped the 80s), we have arrived at the 50s. You'd think that a puritanical prude like myself would find all sorts of great 50s films to recommend....shockingly, this is not the case.

When it came down to writing down a list of great movies from this decade I was at a loss. There's two main reasons: 1. I don't get into Hitchcock movies, and b. not a big fan of epic spectacles either. So this eliminates all the major films of the decade: The Ten Commandments, The Greatest Show on Earth, Spartacus, Psycho, North by Northwest...etceterah, etceterah. Oh yeah, and The King and I. So no one who is a serious movie crazy person would take my list seriously. (Like there's some critic out there hanging on my every word....I get a little delusional sometimes).

If you're still reading by this point, here's my list:

Singin' in the Rain - The best musical of all time. I've seen them all...this is the best. Gene do I put this? You know how most male dancers look like male dancers? Gene Kelly looks like a guy who really likes girls, who's also dancing. And not just dancing but leaping and the most heterosexual way imaginable. You have to see it to believe it. Gene Kelly aside, Singin' in the Rain is very clever, very funny and very well-done. And my kids thought it was hi-larious.

The Searchers (I bet no one saw a western coming...just wait- there's more) - This is one the film critics love. I loved it, too. Don't expect fun hijinks with The Searchers. John Wayne is a racist cowboy looking for his niece who has been kidnapped by some bad Injuns. The complexity of racism is what makes this movie so compelling. We watch it today and feel uncomfortable after a lifetime of white guys= bad guys, Native Americans = good guys. But buried deep back in our history are recorded incidences of white women and children being kidnapped and tortured by some of the more aggressive Indian tribes. And the people who originally watched The Searchers might have heard those stories or had within their own memories encounters that fostered racism. That being said, yes, this a racist movie. But a good one. Not good because it's racist but....crap. You know what I mean.

Desk Set - Do you know the Hepburn/Tracy story? I don't have space to tell it here...but it's the stuff of legend. I'm starting to sound like a voiceover on an A & E biography. Let's cut to the chase: Katharine's character is named 'Bunny' and she's damn smart. Spencer's character is installing a computer the size of a Starbucks franchise in her workplace. Clever banter ensues. And the clothes are very pretty, too.

High Noon - Another western I liked. Everything about this movie is simple but effective. I wouldn't be surprised if it has less dialogue than any other movie of the decade (except the Tom and Jerry's...but they don't count). So the good guy sheriff has to face a bad guy and no one's got his back. I told you it was simple. But effective.

Streetcar Named Desire/On the Waterfront I lumped these together because I couldn't choose between them. Marlon Brando is bloody brilliant in both. Streetcar was a play and you can tell it was a play because the dialogue sounds so play-ish. But Brando is so freakin' mesmerizing in this part you have to forgive the silly dialogue and weak New Awlins accents. Yeah...ok Streetcar is my favorite. Everyone remembers the Stella yell...but do you remember what happens when Stella comes down? Watch it, my friend. All I gots to say is ha cha cha cha.

This is my longest post EVER! Ever? Yeah, ever. So I'll skip the Honorable Mentions and honorably mention that I also like All about Eve and Giant and Easter Parade as well. And if you made it to the end of this post, I salute you.

Monday, September 11, 2006

I'm sorry. Some celebrity obsessed idiot hijacked my blog.

We all know I'm too thoughtful and intelligent to waste precious virtual space writing about John Travolta, fashion and whatever else that airhead wrote about. Chyeah right.

In case you haven't visited our homeschool page I'm encouraging you to take a look. I call it School House Rock! and I'm answering some good questions. At least I'm answering from my narrow little perspective. Questions like:

What is the value of memory work?
What went wrong with 20th century education?
How do you teach kids to read? (I haven't answered this one yet. No one's asked.)
What is the Trivium?
What is a classical education?
What's new pussycat?

Just checking. So for those of you fascinated by the idea of homeschooling...but not quite sure how it works, hop on over. And ask more questions.

Friday, September 08, 2006

What I'd give to have a time machine right now...

I'd go back to 1980. I'd apply to be a waitress at Gilley's in Houston. I'd quickly befriend John Travolta. He'll like me because I'll let him in on a new religion I'm inventing. It's based on the time-travel proposed in Slaughterhouse Five. He will be muy impressed.

Once we start getting our pedicures at the same place we'll become best friends. At this point I implement my scheme.

Me: John. In the future you are going to be invited to be in movie called Hairspray.

John: Whoa! Like, what are we talkin' about here?

Me: I can't explain right now. I have to get back to the future. You will be offered a movie called Hairspray. You must refuse.

John: Like, I thought you was just a waitress and now your talkin' bout time travel and hair products? Like, what's up with you, here?

Me: Focus John. Urban Cowboy will be the last movie you'll ever make that you will be attractive in. The last movie. Enjoy the flicker of cuteness you had for 15 minutes because it's about to be over. I want you to promise me you will not ever ever put on a dress and a fat suit and a wig and be in a movie called Hairspray.

John: I can't make no promises 'bout the make-up and dresses, here. Like, you know what I mean, here?

Me: Yes, John. I understand. Just know that it all goes downhill for you from here. Now sign the contract, please.

John: Like, alright. I'll sign whatever, here. Do these super tight jeans make my butt look too big?

Me: No John. You look fine. Just remember what I said. And sign on the back, also. That part has the "I will not be in Staying Alive" clause. Sign it.

Then I'd go back to my real life, contract in hand, and pat myself on the back. Maybe they'll get some loser like Kenickie to play Edna Turnblad. And then I wouldn't have had to throw up from my eyes beholding Bud in drag.

Oh Brad! You're so brave!

Brad Pitt says he won't marry Angelina until all Americans are "legally able" to wed. All Americans, meaning all gay Americans...not the children or polygymous fellas or in some cases, both. Shame on Will for marrying me back when only the straights could marry. I'm already respecting him less.

In the altruistic spirit of those who are better than the rest of us, aka the celebrities, I offer the following:

I will not wash the dishes until Oprah gives me a million dollars for being so cute.

I will not limit my diet until at least 15 more people comment on the six pounds I lost this year.

I will not post another picture of my children until the crisis in Darfur is solved.

I will not smile again until Wes Anderson makes me another movie.

I will not learn French, German, Norse, Cockney, EU, African, Jewish or any other not-English language until someone explains the metric system to me. This I don't back down on.

This is too easy. I'm going to avoid everything I've never wanted to do. Who needs a pre-nup with Republican conservatives in Congress? Sneaky, sneaky Brad.

You got pretty! Otherwise titled, "Six pounds and bright red lipstick go a long way..."

The kids and I visited my former place of employment yesterday...our favorite school on the southdiiidde of San Antonio. For anyone who's ever been insecure and starved for attention, you should seriously consider teaching kindergarten. You become some sort of quasi-celebrity. Countless throngs were practically clamoring for my autograph.

"Mrs. Harrison! Over here! Give us a smile!"

"Where did you go, Mrs. Harrison?" they ask. It's obvious they had completely forgotten my existance until the very second I had walked into the cafeteria. "I live close to the mountains! And it snows in the winter!" I could have said, "I live in a cartoon world! And we fly on rainbows to get to work!" and I would have gotten the same reaction: wide eyes and gaping mouths. Poor little sheltered babies hardly make it to the north side of San Antonio.

So I give hugs to all the staff and explain how we're in Texas and yes, I'm homeschooling, and yes, we still live in Idaho, and yes, we love it there, and no, we haven't retreated back to San Antonio in shame and disgrace. A few sweet teachers look me up and down and say, "You look great!" (The Texas food hasn't hit my hips yet. It's coming. Oh yes, my's coming.) But one teacher's aide gave me a big ol' hug and said, "You got pretty!" I laugh and brush her off, mentally noting that this one goes in the blog.

I've done this before myself. "You got skinny!" I say this to anyone who has lost weight. Even if I didn't know them that well in the first place or if they were losing weight privately. I do it because I think I'd rather compliment someone and embarass them a little than not compliment someone as if I didn't notice that they look good. Maybe I'm wrong for that. Or I'll give generic compliments like "You look great/awesome/better than ever!" And I'm being 100% sincere...I don't just start throwing out adjectives to win friends and influence people. Because if that were the case my adjectives would be "stupendous/splendiferous/dy-no-mite!/I'm-going-to-kill-myself-because-you-look-so-good". I don't think that last one was an adjective.

I have no doubt this lovely teacher's aide was being as sincere and sweet as anyone ever could be. I also have a bad habit of not caring what I look like. Or caring what everyone else thinks about how I look. Call it confidence. Call it laziness. I prefer clazidence.

The only exception is when I meet Will for lunch at the Coldwater Creek headquarters. All the female (and not female workers if you know what I mean) are quite fashion-forward. Me showing up in my t-shirt and cut-offs doesn't fly well in a room full of fashionistas. And fashionnisters.

So the lesson learned is that it pays to care. Otherwise I'm going to get some jackhole coming up to me a year from now saying, "OMGosh! I can't remember the last time I saw you with your hair brushed! And look! You've covered up all your freckles and break-outs with make-up! You look AMAZING!!!"

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Who died and made Kelly Kapowski the fashion queen?

Or maybe I've woken up in an alternate universe where Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn are the ugly ones...and fine Miss Kapowski is the height of loveliness. I'm beginning to think that this is a possiblility.

Remember that our charming town that doesn't boast a Target. Or Old Navy. Or anywhere else that you probably buy your clothes. Remember that we're the crazies who don't have network/cable television in our home. I just want you to keep in mind that I've been in a little isolated for a while.

That being said, at what point did the not-couture fashion industry decide women need to be wearing the fugliest clothes imaginable? Was it six months ago? Because I missed the memo. I strolled through the Target "junior" (or is it missy?) section tonight completely agog. I was literally so horrified that I have to use the word "agog", which a 30 year old girl should never use. Along with the phrase, "Great googly moogly!", which I think I'm going to start using as often as possible, by the way.

Great googly moogly! Those clothes were naaasssty. Quick rundown:

  • Tank tops that were banded at the bottom a la ugly maternity shirts of the 80s
  • Mini skirts featuring the ever-so-flattering princess waist. Aka the "v" that we were so fond of in Jr. high. The "v" that makes your belly look as big as possible. Because big bellies are cool.
  • Lady- neck ties attached to blouses. Like the ones Teri Garr wears in Mr. Mom. Like the ones everyone's mom is wearing in the family portrait taken in 1982. Except my mom. My mom has never worn a lady-tie.
  • Knit blazers. Don't ask.
  • Jean backpacks
  • Skinny jeans with zippers on the bottom. Because who knows when your ankles are going to need to go out for a walk.

This is just what I can remember, my friend. And by the way, we must have some sort of serious homeless problem going on. At least if all the studded hobo bags are any indication...someone should check into that. The hobos need to come pick up all their bags from the Target so the good retailers of the world can get some different purses up there.

So what's the last new thing designers have come up with? I've been wearing capris for almost 10 years now...and those were invented in the 20s? 30s? I've been wearing boot cut, low rise jeans for forever...which I'm sure can be attributed to bell-bottoms of the 60s. Here's my note to Isaac MizNOTti: Just because it was done before, doesn't mean it was cute. Even if it seemed cute at the time, it's not cute now, in 2006. This goes for super duper long t-shirts, ruffled mini-skirts, splatter painted anything, (yes...Target was trying to pull of splatter paint) pretty much anything you could picture Lark Voorhies showing up in.

If we must regurgitate the old, let's stick to the classics. And don't think that just because we like Target that we're falling for zippers on the bottoms of the pants. You'll be clearancing those bad boys faster than I can say "Watch out! Here comes Mr. Belding!"

Monday, September 04, 2006

Airplane, schmairplane. My babies were the bomb-diggity-bombs of the air. Oh...maybe I shouldn't use the word "bomb" in airplane talk. My kids were nifty swell in the flying machines. Other than Juliet talking my ever-lovin' ear off for hours on end. Charlie chose to sit by himself so he would talk his elderly seat-mates' ears off. A good time was had by all.

We've been in Texas over 48 hours now. In case you weren't aware, we're not really here to see family and friends. We're too shallow for such nonsense. The true purpose of this trip is evidenced by the following list:

bbq brisket - coming up for dinner
carne guisada - not check
Big Red - check
chorizo and egg taco - not check
sausage and cheese kolache - check
Sonic food - coming up (also had Sonic in Spokane, but didn't count...not in Texas)
my favorite salad from the I-talians in the North Star mall - not check
favorite greasy chinese food from the east siiiiddde - not till Will gets here

I have soooo much to do. So if, when you see me, I not as utterly svelte and cute as you remember me, keep it to yourself. Or don't. I don't care. I've got a whole Idaho winter of my home cookin' to lose my Texas pounds.

And hopefully I won't have a heart attack before my Idaho winter arrives.

Friday, September 01, 2006

Do you actually know the lyrics to "The Eyes of Texas are Upon You?"

Look them up if you don't. Because they're the creepiest patriotic lyrics of all time.

Me: Let's go, guys.

Ava: Are we going to Texas???

Me: No. We're meeting Daddy for lunch.

Ava: I want to go to Texas noooowwww! (Drops to the floor. I walk over her in disgust.)

Me: I can't wait to have you on a plane for 7 hours. That's not going to totally suck.

It's the day before we go to Texas for a month. Somehow I can't tear myself off this wretched crackpipe of a computer to get anything done. So I've caught up with pop culture by watching snippets of the VMA awards off of youtube. I wouldn't be surprised if Justin Timberlake really does bring Sexyback. Or at least Gooddancemusicback.

Texas trip preparation:

packed our school books: check
packed kids clothes: not-check
packed mama clothes: not-check
finished washing mama clothes: not-check
packed baby gifts and Coldwater Creek sample gifts: not-check
packed airplane diversion back packs: not-check
toiletries: not-check
anything else: not-check

Like that? I packed my school books up last we didn't do school today. I haven't packed anything else. I better get started. No. I better check my yahoo mail again and myspace and see if these guys have anything new. Oh...and then I better check on my kids or something.

Disclaimer: The above is an exagerration. I do adequately supervise my children. Do not, I repeat, do not call Child Welfare on me or I will kill you. I mean I won't be happy with you.

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Kristi From Texas
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