Tuesday, October 10, 2006

We're Moving!

Here In Idaho is in the process of moving from here-in-idaho.blogspot.com to this site, here-in-idaho.com.

The move has not been as smooth as we were hoping. The import from blogger beta didn't work, so we were only able to import the first few posts and no comments. We're working on it now and hoping to get the old content transferred over quickly. In the mean time, you can view here-in-idaho.blogspot.com for archives.


Prepare to be amazed.

Sunday, October 08, 2006

Americans aren't the only ones with messed-up, crazy leaders. Look at what I found...

October 9, 2006

Dear Diary,

Today I detonated North Korea's first atomic bomb. I bet the capitalist Americans are FREAKING OUT lol. And the chinese mainland...I hate those guys. They're always in my space. And I think they're stalking my Myspace page...I keep getting spam and "ur a looser." on my comments. I'll show them ha ha ha.

So anyways, I just thought I'd journal out my feelings 2night. I think that I'm going to mess with the UN for a while before I hide my bombs. I need some new furniture (totally trashed the place after my last D & D party). So I'm gonna see if I can get some new stuff for my place from the UN. My big screen tv is effing on the blitz again. Peace of crap. Probably made by the Chinese. I'll get them for that lol.

Speaking of tv, I need to check my tivo. I missed the premier of Lost (busy with H-bombz) so I need to catch up. OMSelf! I almost forgot...I totally FREAKED out when my girl Vivica was eliminated from Dancing With the Stars! I needs to hook up with her. She is hott. I tried to message her on myspace but I think it wasn't really her site. The pictures on her page looked like they were of a drag queen. He was still hott, lol.

I think I need to start working out. All of the national paintings of me show this fugly double chin I've got going on. What's up with that? Maybe it's time to get some work done...uh-oh though, don't want to turn out like Janice Dickinson ha ha ha.

So I best be going. I got some wicked work to get done before I start messin' with Kofi. I think I'm going to be all, "Yeah...I'll hand over my bombs for reals. Psyyyyych!" My job rocks.





There's too many to choose from. TOO MANY, I TELL YOU!!

So we began with the Good Girl's Guide to Seventies Cinema. To which, by the way, I officially add Paper Moon. And then we covered the Not-Quite-As-Good Girl's Guide to Movies of the 1960s. Followed by Boring Title for a Boring Decade, except for the ones featuring Marlon Brando: Movies of the 1950s.

Before beginning my loving tribute to my favorite decade in movie making, at least my other favorite decade, I should inform the unintiated reader that I am a lover of old films. L-O-V-E-R with a capital FREAK when it comes to movies of the 1930s and 1940s. So writing this post and narrowing down my favorites may be, no will be, the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. Ever. It's go-time.

It's a Wonderful Life - I already wrote an extensive tribute to this film over here, so I'm not going to gush any more than I already did. Except to say this is the finest movie of the decade. And for sentimental suckers like me, possibly of all time.

The Philadelphia Story
- "My feet are made of clay, made of clay. Did you know?"

My other favorite movie of all time. Mr. CaryGrant, Mr. Jimmy Stewart, Lovely Miss Katharine Hepburn...they just need to slap some Judy Garland and Gene Kelly up in there and I'd straight-up do the robot in pure joy.

Mr. CaryGrant Stars in... I tried to pick another favorite but I couldn't. And you can't make me. He has three stand-outs of the 1940s. His Girl Friday, My Favorite Wife, and Mr. Blandings Builds his Dream House . Look up the word "charming" in the dictionary. This is what you'll see. Look up "double-take", and while you're there, look up "best comedic timing ever. EVER." Mr. Cary Grant. The only man that can make George Clooney look like a buffoon.

Dumbo- The part...with the...mama elephant...and the bars...and the chain...I can't even write about it without falling apart. Excuse me.

Meet Me in St. Louis - Liza Minnelli was concieved because of this movie. You so needed to know that. This is the story of a Victorian family living in St. Louis in 1904. Sort of a "year in the life" of this family. And that's it...not much drama, not much suspense. MMISL is just a pretty little picture of a pretty little time that probably never existed as prettily as it did in the movie. Sort of like Norman Rockwell paintings. You'd like to think things used to be so lovely, but deep down you know better. Judy Garland is in this one. And she's adorable.

The Maltese Falcon - "When you're slapped, you'll take it and you'll like it." Don't fool with Sam Spade. He'll mess you up.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington - Make your kids watch this. Make your neighbor watch this. Make your congressman watch this...but keep an eye on your congressman. Don't let him get fresh with your kids.

Spencer Tracy, Katharine Hepburn star in - Adam's Rib and Woman of the Year. Once more, I couldn't choose. But keep your eye on Hepburn in both of them. She didn't need Gloria Steinem to teach her how to assert herself. What a woman.

Citizen Kane - Rooooossseebuuud....Citizen Kane isn't all about doom and gloom, you know. Witness debauchery filmed below:

Exactly what I imagine the Blogher conference looked like. Only less male.

Mildred Pierce - Back when shoulder pads and highly arched eyebrows = glamour, Joan Crawford pulled off this masterpiece. That's right, I said Joan "no wire hangers!" Crawford. Watch this movie and then keep an eye on your daughters....your backstabbing, conniving, manipulative daughters... Not now, Ava...I'm writing my blog!

And finally,

Casablanca - I think that there is a law somewhere requiring everyone alive to see Casablanca. I'm not sure if it's federal law...or just part of Bush's sweeping Patriotic Act initiatives...but I know it's on the books. So get this in your Netflix queue before the Minute-Men come and lock up your sorry self. And the scene below, this very scene, is one of my favorite moments ever recorded on film. Viva La France!

There you have it. My favorite movies from my favorite decade. And I could've kept going. So when I see this nonsense those Hollywood schmucks try to jam down our throats these days, I know better. Those fools have got nothing on these guys.


Husbands say the sweetest things.

5:30 am

Me (whispering): Bye, darling. I'm going to work. I took $2 from your wallet.

Will (sleeping): Don't take money from me. I'll knock you out.

Me: snicker, snicker

Will: I'll come after you with a club.

Me: Bye, darling. Have a good morning.

Will: You, too.

That Will...he's such a card.


Saturday, October 07, 2006

Get your certificate. Jerk.

Riley won legit. Maybe.
No, I'm not jealous.


Friday, October 06, 2006

Where have all the Audreys gone?

It's time for a gratuitous exercise in celebrity bashing. I'm thinking of making it a weekly feature. As in, where have all the Audrey's gone? Fridays. Audrey, who exuded elegance, and who's sophistication is decidely lacking in today's celebrity personas. Today I'm going to pick on someone very near and dear to my heart. At least the part of my heart that abhors talent.

How far can one travel on the strength of their personality alone? Let's look at Madonna, shall we? I fall into the avid Madonna-disliker category. Some of you may be now stuffing non-descript envelopes with explosives to send to my door at this very moment. Just pause a second. I'm going somewhere with this.

Madonna, Madonna, Madonna. When I was a little girl, like most little girls, I loved running around singing "Like a Virgin." Rolling around on the floor, crawling in my pretend wedding dress...good times. I adored Madonna. I think I even had a poster of her in my room. Crispy hair, GINORMOUS eyebrow...she was the bomb. When I was eight. Then she went through her clown face stage, and then look-at-me-I'm-hispanic stage, and so on and so forth. So while I was growing up, Madonna was just getting new hair cuts. The media loves to call this "evolving" and "controversial" . I call it "getting a new haircut" and "bastardizing religious symbols for your own promotion." Ouch. Put those bombs away, my friends. I'm still going somewhere with this.

But she pulls it off. She has a couple of dissenters like me, but it seems that most of the world community thinks she's cool and who am I to say they're wrong? Well...I'm Kristi and I say they're wrong, but that's besides the point. Madonna has made an empire based on the strength of her personality. How many of you know 11th grade choir girls who can sing better than Madonna? Don't answer that. What she lacks in talent, she makes up for in bravado.

Where am I going with this? I'll tell you.

Here in the blogging world, there are a handful of people who make their livings off of their blogs. Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouf? They don't have real jobs. They blog and their ad revenue makes them enough money to sustain themselves and their families. I know. It's crazy. Crazy-like how do I get on that crazy-train? Apparently it has something to do with something called traffic. It's all a mystery to me.

So in my new-found passion to emulate Madonna in order to generate web traffic, I think I'm going to be making a few changes. For one, I'm going to start mocking all things spiritual by stealing your cultural identity and claiming it for my own. This week I'm Asian. Call me Kristi-San. Next week I'll be Indian. Dots, not feathers. And if you're offended, call Madonna. She's already covered this ground, so it's ok.

Second, I'm going to start writing crappy songs. Here's my first one (to be sung to the tune of Madonna's "Music"):

Hey Mr. Charlie, time to go to school.
It's time to start our homeschool.
Reading...makes the children...smarter...yeah.
Reading...makes the children...smarter...yeah.

Third, obviously I need to be showing some more skin up here. So, I'm warning you now, in the future I will be flashing midriff and possibly boobs if you're lucky. Yes. I know Madonna works out really hard to get those freaky arms that could decapitate small children, but "fitness" is her "look". I can't go for that look because it's her look. My "look" is what I call "not-fit and a little bit flabby." Believe me, there are some people who really go for that. Sickos.

Alright, then. It's the new me. The Madonna-esque me. Let the checks start rolling in!!!!



Thursday, October 05, 2006

Is this how I'm supposed to be writing?

I give you the following:

By FRAZIER MOORE AP Television Writer

NEW YORK Oct 4, 2006 (AP)— "Lost" settled a few questions sort of while posing many more on the premiere of its third season Wednesday.

Do you see this syntax? This would be like me saying, "I should be starting math sort of but I'm at the computer freaking out over an AP writer's sentence structure."

I'm not a grammar nazi. It's one thing to leave out correct capitalization and punctuation on your emails or text messages. But I've noticed that national publications are getting sloppy, as well. And this is scary. Once the papers forget the rules, you forget the rules, we'll forget the rules, it'll be anarchy!

That's all.


Wednesday, October 04, 2006

No, I do not know what these words are. Yes, that makes me stupid.

Beck over at Frog and Toad are Friends has given me four words to define. Beck, who is so smart that she used the word "clement" in a recent post, which I had to look up. Mild weather. Duh.

I assume I'm not allowed to look these words up. So I'm guessing. Here are her words for me:

Callipygian - Semi-retarded cousins of the Egyptians. As in, "The Callipygians disappeared from history after a misguided and ill-timed attempt to conquer Egypt using pretty scarves and blunted beadwork."

Cholera: Deadly disease. I think it's transmitted by water. Which is why I drink Dr. Pepper. If all the people of the 3rd world drank Dr. Pepper, they wouldn't get the cholera. And not to be confused with chlamydia, which is a disease of your dirty parts.

Circumnavigate: My purpose in blogging. As in, "Why do you blog?" "Oh, I'm circumnavigating my children" You say avoid, I say circumnavigate. Let's call the whole thing off.

Calliope: A children's show that used to be on USA when I was a kid. All I remember is "Hey Kids! It's time for Calliope!" Or I could have just dreamed up that show and it's all in my head. In which case, Calliope is the new trendy name among white middle class Americans. Only they spell it Kalliahpee.

Oh dang. I just looked up the two words I didn't know. I suck. And I also suck because I'm not going to tag anyone with my own words. Only because I've spent so much time blogging today that I don't have the clevertude to come up with four funny words.


I read the news today, oh boy.

Inspired by Phat Mommy, this is my own Day in the Life.

6:15 Hear Ava crying over a wet bed. Get up, change her sheets, give her a washcloth for her legs and some clean clothes. Go back to bed.

7:30 Get up for real as Will is leaving for work. Make everyone get dressed and make their beds.

7:45 Make breakfast: fried eggs, toast, hot chocolate. Clean up the kitchen.

8:15 Shuffle kids into the bathroom to brush teeth and wash off the hot chocolate. Change Ava's chocolaty shirt. Start a load of laundry.

8:20 Remind everyone it's a school day and we need to meet at the table in 5 minutes.

8:30 Remind everyone again and give them another five minutes.

8:45 Finally started math. Juliet is ordering numbers 1-15 and Charlie is working with place value. Ava is looking for ways to make me lose my mind. I require that we spend a solid hour on math, even if I have to add some math drills to do a whole hour. Realize I forgot to do calendar time with the girls. Oh well.

9:45 Charlie starts his spelling work. He works independantly while I do phonics work with Juliet. Ava has been too whiny to participate. I decide I'll work with her later and set out some toys for her to play with.

9:54 Call out for Ava. No answer. Find her naked in my room, trying to make her Dr. Suess cd play in an unplugged cd player. Get her some clothes and send her out of the room.

10:15 Charlie starts memory work in his room. He is learning the Preamble to the Constitution. Juliet works on writing sentences. I realize I've lost Juliet's memory work tape and I have to make another one. Not now.

10:25 Ava is crying for me to play Connect Four with her. I tell her it's still school time and I need to be doing school. She starts a temper tantrum. I put her in her room. I type up Charlie's grammar test.

10:35 Juliet listens to the Latin cd.

10:40 Juliet makes herself a pumpkin mask. Charlie starts Latin. Ava comes out of the room and tries to make herself her own mask. All of the glues are dried up so I hunt down some glue from my scrapbooking junk. Passing a mirror, I realize I've had dried hot chocolate on the bridge of my nose all morning.

10:45 Return to the living room. Discover Charlie using a yard stick to do some sort of dual light saber fighting. Ava is climbing the school supply shelf in search of "really sharp scissors for her mask." I send Charlie to my room with his grammar test to finish. I give Ava some not-sharp scissors and set her back at her seat.

11:20 Charlie finishes his test. Morning work is over. I start another load of laundry and heat up the oven for lunch. Chicken nuggets for them and some sort of leftover chili-sandwich concoction for me. Charlie puts Peter Pan into the dvd player. I sit down at the computer for my 2 hour sabbatical from school.

11:25 Peter Pan is too scratched up to play. We stick in The Fantastic Four cartoon. Juliet starts a tantrum because the "elastic guy isn't funny." She goes to her room. Comes back to eat lunch.

12:20 Kids are sent to the room for "room time". This is one hour when they are supposed to play on their beds, read, or listen to a book on tape. I have about 5 minutes before Ava shows up in my room asking if it's time to get up yet. I'm starting All the King's Men. I fall asleep.

1:30 Ava emerges from the room with a bleeding lip. While dealing with them, I let Charlie know we're starting school again at 2:00. I then call our neighbor and invite her son over to play with Charlie after school.

1:45 The lip stopped bleeding. The girls listen to the Dr. Suess cd in the hall. I don't know why they're in the hall. I do not know at all.

2:00 Oops....I was supposed to pay the rent yesterday. I need to go do that right away before his friend gets here at 3. And I need a Dr. Pepper.

2:16 Haven't left yet. WHERE ARE ALL OUR SOCKS????? For the love of all that is holy, WHERE ARE OUR SOCKS?

2:48 Squeeze some history in as fast as we can. Our history book is talking about the Eastern Roman Empire today. No lie. Juliet is crying because the glitter glue is dried out and she can't decorate her castle drawing. Charlie is mad because he can't abbreviate 'Constantinople'. Turkish delight, on a moonlit night.

3:30 Neighbor-boy arrives. Juliet promptly shows him her new bathing suit. I send them outside while I play Connect Four with Ava.

4:00 I stick in a Kipper dvd for Ava and preheat the oven for dinner. Make a mental note that Charlie hasn't read to me today so we need to cover that tomorrow.

So the rest of my day will consist of more domestic bliss and more of me sitting at the computer avoiding domestic bliss. Reading this post reminds me of the whole Mommy War discussion that raged last spring. Some women are questioning why so many educated and otherwise competitive women are choosing to spend their days hoping to avoid pee puddles on the bathroom floor rather than contributing to the workforce.

I don't know. I don't have an answer. I will say that staying home is harder than working with adults. At least for me. But it's my work and my family that I'm working for. Not someone else's. But this life is not, I repeat not for everyone. And I have my days when it's not for me, either. But today wasn't one of those days. Today was a'ight.

I've got to go scrub some potaters now. And come back to my page this evening. I'll have surprise for you.


Monday, October 02, 2006

Watch out fools...this one's mine!

Our friend Justin, over at The Daily Hasselhoff, has got a rock and roll contest going on right now. The Hasselhoff Haiku Showdown! or, as I call it, the Writing Assignment of my DREAMS! Up for grabs is a $25 Amazon gift certificate. So go check it out before I win that mutha for myself.


Sunday, October 01, 2006

I will never be able to look at that baby with a straight face.

While in Texas we visited our friends Paul and Caryn. I'll preface the rest of this post by letting you know that most conversations with Paul and Caryn, no matter how serious and well-intentioned, usually digress into some exercise in silliness and sarcasm. So let's say we're talking about, oh, I don't know, the Holocaust. The conversation will still end in all of us rolling on the floor laughing. I'm not saying it's right, I'm just saying it's true.

So Paul and Caryn are expecting their first child. The DNA bloodwork (!!!!) shows it's a girl and they are still brainstorming names. I have a strong and freakish desire to name other people's children so I start throwing out some of my favorites. Alas, the Williamses and the Harrisons favor vastly different name preferences and the name brainstorming ends in a disappointing disgrace.

Then I had an idea. I give you the following conversation, to the best of my recollection.

"You know you could always name her after your favorite literary or movie character."

"Like, Murchoch Williams?"

"JackChrissyJanet Williams."

"JackChrissyJanetTerry Williams."

"JackChrissyJanetTerry...I don't know the name of the other one."

"I don't either but I know her real name. It's Jennilee Harris. It's sad that I know that."

"Yes it is."

"Mrs. Roper Williams."

"Mr. Furley Williams."

Things start getting out of control from here on out. Picture four grown a** adults laughing themselves to utter illness while continuing this conversation.

"We could get her a little leisure suit that zips up."

"With medallions."

"No, a little ascot."

"She could go around threatening everyone with her karate chops." Paul puckers his mouth and starts doing the Furley mock-karate moves.

"This is our daughter, Mr. Furley Williams."

"Her monogram would be MFW."

"Her baby dedication in front of the church: Congregation, do you promise to love and pray for little Mr. Furley Williams?"

"Dear Jesus, please watch over Mr. Furley Williams. Help her parents raise her to know you..."

"Your little dancer silhouette on the back of your Tahoe will say Mr. Furley."

"So the parking lot will read McKenzie, Mackensy, MccKKynzi, Mr. Furley, MkKinsey..."

"First day of school...'Have a good time, Mr. Furley. I love you, Mr. Furley."

"Good job, Mr. Furley! I'm so proud of you!"

"Oh no..."


"She have to learn how to write her name. 'Capital M, lower case R, period. Finger space, capital F..."

It was all over after that.

The sad thing is that I'm going to be secretly calling this unborn child Mr. Furley until the day I die. She's going to know me as the crazy lady who leaves the room laughing everytime I see her.


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Kristi From Texas
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