Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Twitter thinks I'm fat

It's a well-documented fact that I hate dieting and exercising.  That said, The Hubby now weighs less than I do, and it really bothers me.  I've gained a few pounds, but he's lost 40-45 pounds, so it's mostly his fault that this disaster has occurred. 

Over the past year or so, due largely to the fact that he's trying to lower his cholesterol without medication, The Hubby has become obsessed with diet and exercise to the point that we've actually gotten into arguments over it.  I'm glad that he's happy and all but, dude, I can only take so much of his constant look-at-my-six-pack/guess-how-much-I-weigh-today talk.  He does look good, and that's wonderful, but I've always joked that if he gets lighter than me then I'll have to leave him, because that's just not cool. 

In an effort to make light of the situation at-hand, I tweeted this earlier:

Immediately, I acquired a new follower:

And then I got these tweets:

Now, I understand that weight loss is a billion-dollar industry (trillion?  million?  whatever.), but these diet bots need to check themselves before they wreck themselves.  I was making a joke, and they all swooped in like, "YESSSS!!!  Another insecure girl who may buy what I'm sellin'!  ATTACK!!!!"  That's messed up. 

Even though I know I don't actually need to lose weight, the suggestion made me second-guess myself for a split-second.  What happens to all the anorexic and bulimic girls and boys on Twitter who get bombarded with this stuff?  I hope they don't buy into it.  That would suck.

I'm still waiting to hear from the Twitter bots who promise me they can help me gain weight--or get me a new husband, for that matter.  I'll keep you all posted.  *fingers crossed!*.

Sunday, October 23, 2011


My neck is seriously screwed up.  I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be able to turn my head freely from side to side and look up.  It's been this way since yesterday morning.  Here is how far I can move my head:

So...yeah.  I would like to clarify that I have nothing against chiropractors, and I think they do a great job, I just have better things to do than to go to the chiropractor for adjustments three times a week for a month, which I'm sure is what she will suggest when she sees how screwed up my neck is.  That's what happened last time.  Also, even though I have a very low co-pay, those co-pays add up.  I'd rather be spending my money on more cardigans or modeling clay.

Maybe I just need a new pillow.  I think I sleep all wonky.  I've tried ice, which helps a little bit, but if anyone could offer any other suggestion on how to put my neck back into place, I'm all ears!

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Fun with clay!

I'm off Facebook for the week because I feel like I'm becoming addicted again, and I wanted to nip that in the bud early on.  The Kid is off video games for the week, so it's a joint venture. 

As you can imagine, we both have a lot more free time now.  In addition to cooking and keeping the house cleaner watching the entire Incredible Hulk television series, I've also been making an effort to do more fun mother-son activities.  This morning, after a rousing game of Hulk Smash, we got out the sculpt and bake clay and set to work on some accessories for The Kid's favorite toys:  Imaginext figures.

Now, if you've been following my blog for a while (as a whole five of you have), you will remember that I have a beef with the toy makers over at Fisher-Price.  They don't make female action figures for their Imaginext line--only male.  We DID manage to find a Catwoman once, and thank God I bought it, because I never saw another one ever again. 

So, after I made two tiny clay guns, I set off on a mission to right the gender inequality within my son's toy box.  My first idea was to turn one of the men into a woman, so I made a wig:

"What?  You never seen a lady with a face sweater before?  Move along now."
The Kid was not so keen on this idea.  I had to show him how the guy was using the wig as a disguise to trick his enemies before he reluctantly allowed me to bake this one off.  Also, it became apparent that the Imaginext people are very macho men, because every little guy in the Medieval Times line has some manly facial hair.  These guys do not make very convincing women.

The next idea was to make a girl from scratch, which I initially shot down, but then I decided to go for it.  I mean, what was I going to do with the next hour of my life if I wasn't on Facebook anyway?  Clean?  (Ha!  God, I'm funny!)  So, with Adventures in Babysitting playing in the background to keep the 4-year old's short attention span occupied, I set off on my own little adventure.  It took me the entire length of the movie and several tries, but I think you'll agree that I've discovered a hidden talent as a gifted sculptor:

OK, yeah, she leans back a little.  Maybe she's a Fat Joe fan.

Her blush is 3-dimensional, but her hands are not.  Who needs lumpy hands anyway?

Alright, well, maybe she's not a masterpiece, but she's serving her purpose.  Already, The Kid has used her as a hostage, had her shot, and had the men roast her with their marshmallows.  How did we get by without a female action figure all this time?

"My heroes!"

"Should we blow her up or shoot her, guys?"

Take note, Fisher-Price.  Little boys need female toys too.  E-mail me if you'd like me to design one for your line--clearly I'm an artistic genius.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

The Incredible Hook

The Kid has been obsessed with The Incredible Hulk lately.  I'm not sure exactly where it came from, but many of our conversations go like this:

The Kid:  I bet the Incredible Hook could pick up that tree!

Me:  Uh-huh.

The Kid:  And he could break through walls.

Me:  Yep.

The Kid:  The Incredible Hook can pick up anything.  But you know what The Incredible Hook can't pick up?

Me:  A giant.

The Kid:  A giant.

(He's also obsessed with giants)

Since he so loves this green hero, I thought it would be fun if we started watching the old Incredible Hulk TV series from the 70s/80s on Netflix.  As soon as Dr. David Banner made his first transformation, The Kid noticed something was awry.

The Kid:  Why doesn't he turn into the real Incredible Hook?

Me:  What do you mean?  That is the real Incredible Hulk.

The Kid:  No it's not!  He's 'posed to have have black hair, and he's not 'posed to have a shirt on.

When he couldn't pinpoint what was really bothering him, a Google image search showed me the Hulk he's familiar with, and I quickly realized the issue at hand.  Take a look:
What he was expecting

What he saw

The new Hulk, aside from being animated (or CGI, in some cases), is considerably...hulkier.  Lou Ferrigno, though impressively beefy thirty years ago, just looks like some dude in a Halloween costume by today's standards. 

Superman has fallen victim to the same evolution over the years:  he's gone from a guy who looks like he works out to a guy who looks like he's smuggling small pillows under his skin.  It's weird.  In another thirty years, do you think there's any possible way that we'll be laughing at today's Hulk, thinking he's too wimpy?  I can't even imagine.*

Other than his fleeting annoyance at Hulk's appearance, The Kid doesn't seem to be bothered by the low-tech special effects of yesteryear, so we're making our way through the series.  It's fun to watch him play like he's The Hulk, angrily throwing pillows around the living room to save the good guys from the bad guys.  Well...it'll be fun until something gets broken.  Then maybe we'll move on to something a little less violent, like Knight Rider or ALF.  I'd better go queue those up before I forget.

*If you're reading this in the year 2040, please leave a comment and remind me that I wrote this so we can examine the results of 30 years aging on the physique of a superhero.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

My socks are wet.

...but that's what happens when you get a PUPPY!!!!!

Yes, Sandy the puppy came home early!  We've been enjoying her company since Sunday--which, coincidentally, is the same day that The Hubby came home from Canada.  Of course, The Kid and I had to surprise him with her arrival upon his arrival:

Sorry I couldn't get it in one video.  I don't have Quicktime pro, which I didn't realize I'd need until afterwards, darn it.  I should have just recorded it on my webcam.  

Even though my socks ARE wet, Sandy is quickly getting the gist of housebreaking, even though she's a tiny little thing.  She's taken to running out the doggy door right after she eats, which makes me believe that she's some sort of puppy genius.  Nights are still pretty rough, but we're getting the hang of it.  I've increased my coffee/tea/sugar-free Red Bull intake, so we're all good 'round here.

More non-related puppy posts coming up, I promise!  Until then,  


Saturday, October 8, 2011

An intimate conversation with Tracy Flick

This post is a contribution to The Kid in the Front Row Blogathon calling for imaginary interviews with movie characters.  I don't actually know Tracy Flick.  (because she's not real) (just in case you couldn't figure that out) (also, she lives in Omaha and I live in Kansas City) (It just occurred to me that some of you may not know who Tracy Flick is--go rent Election, right now) (I'll wait) (OK, I won't really wait, but come back and read this after you've seen it).


 It's not often that I have the great pleasure to sit down and chat with an American icon, but today I did just that.  Tracy Flick, as you all probably know, recently made a splash in the world of politics.  After a bill that she wrote at the age of 27 (which proposed that the qualifying age for Senators be lowered to 27) was shot down in the House, Ms. Flick was elected at the age of 29 and was sworn in to the Senate on her 30th birthday.

I'm excited and honored to share with you all a transcript of the conversation I had with her earlier today.  Enjoy.

Me:  Thank you so much for taking the time to speak with me today, Senator Flick.

Tracy:  No problem, Teri.  I welcome the opportunity to speak with the author of such a prestigious and hilarious blog as your own.  Oh, and please call me Senator Tracy.

Me:  Oh, why thank you Senator Tracy.  I assure you that the pleasure is all mine.  Now, as everybody knows, you are one of the youngest Senators ever to be elected to office, and you are the youngest female Senator in the history of the United States.  How did you ever accomplish such an amazing feat?

Senator Tracy:  What you need to know about me is that I'm an over-achiever.  Ever since I was a very small child, my mother always told me that I was different--you know, special.  I always knew it was my destiny to be President of the United States.  The Senate is just another stepping stone along the way.

Me:  Oh!  So you plan on running for President one day?

Senator Tracy:  Of course.  I plan to be President by the time I'm 35 years old--or 33, if I can get my bill to pass this time.

Me:   But...by those calculations, our next President's term won't even be up yet.

Senator Tracy:  I don't see that as a problem.

Me:  Right...so...

Senator Tracy:  You see, you can't interfere with destiny.  That's why it's destiny.  And if you try to interfere, the same thing's just going to happen anyway.

Me:  Oh.  Okay.  You left a very successful career as a partner at a high-profile law firm to serve in the Senate.  How was your first experience of running for office?  Was the campaigning brutal?

Senator Tracy:  Actually, Teri, the Senate race was not my first election.  I campaigned for--and won--seats in the SGA (student government association) all through high school, right up until my senior year, when I served as Student Body President.

Me:  Is that so?

Senator Tracy:  Yes, and if you think that adult campaigns can get dirty, you should see what goes on in high school elections.

Me:  Even in comparison to the allegations from your most recent opponent that you were the reason for the demise of the marriage of one of your high school teachers?

Senator Tracy:  That's unsubstantiated gossip.

Me:  So you say, but I recently received an e-mail from a Jim McCallister claiming that he can prove that not only are those allegations true, but that you also were directly responsible for ending his own career as educator.

Senator Tracy:  I don't like where you're going with this.  Mr. McCallister was the SGA adviser in my high school before he demonstrated that he lacked the ethics AND morals required by someone in such an influential position as his.  He falsely accused me of destroying campaign posters before another student stepped forward and admitted her guilt, and then he rigged the election so that his pet student--the most popular boy in school, I might add--would be awarded the presidency over me, the rightful winner.  If you would like to discuss this matter further, I'd suggest that you direct all further questions to my lawyer, who happens to be one of my mentors and the best attorney in the State of Nebraska.

Me:  He lacked the ethics AND the morals?  Aren't those the same thing?  What's the difference between ethics and morals, anyway?

Senator Tracy:  We're done here.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

How to attract a (possibly nerdy) man

On Monday morning The Hubby got called out of the country* to work for the week. He left on Tuesday morning and so The Kid and I have been all on our own since then, until Sunday.  How do you single parents do this?  I'm not even working outside of the home right now, and this is super-di-duper tiring.  Keeping up with a four-year old is considerably more difficult when there's no husband-coming-home-from-work countdown in progress. 

The only good thing about The Hubby being out of town is that I don't have to shave my legs or really care about how I look.  This morning, I threw on an old Star Wars t-shirt that my husband bought for himself, a little bit of makeup, and didn't bother doing anything to my hair before heading out to do the bi-weekly grocery shopping.

I was in line at Costco, buying milk and jeans, when I noticed one of the guys who works there checking me out.  He was about my age, pretty good-looking--probably what you'd call a Dad-type.  Now, I don't normally notice when guys check me out (I'm kind of oblivious that way), so you know that this was super-obvious.  I thought maybe there was something on my face or I had sucker stuck in my hair.  It wasn't until I stepped up to the cashier and he started arranging my items that I figured out what was going on.

Guy:  That's an awesome shirt.

Me (looking down, having forgot what I was wearing):  Oh, yeah.  Thanks.  It's got holes in it, but it's really comfortable.

Guy:  I'm a HUGE fan, or at least I was up until Lucas started putting out the new episodes.

Me:  Oh....did you buy the blu-rays?

Guy:  Not yet.  Did you??

Me:  Uh, no.  Maybe for Christmas. 

The Kid:  We were Star Wars for Halloween last year!

Guy:  Really??

Me:  Oh, yeah, I was Princess Leia--

Guy:  Oh yeah?

The Kid:  And I was Jengo Fett!

Me:  And my husband was Boba Fett

At this point another guy comes up and puts the first guy in a buddy headlock and they start talking more and more about Star Wars.  I smile and nod, because honestly I have no idea what the heck they're talking about.  I finally politely excused myself and make a break for the door. 

The guy didn't even put my stuff in a box, damn it.

At the next store, I started paying attention and I definitely noticed similar "how YOU doin'?" looks coming from several other men aged 25-40.  It turns out that wearing a Star Wars shirt is a TOTAL dude magnet.  Who knew?  And for those of you who think that I was still probably looking pretty hot, I offer this piece of photographic evidence:

Seriously, guys?
On another note, I really need to either lose a few pounds or buy some bigger clothes.  The Levi's I got at Costco weren't quite the right cut. 

Anyway, that's my big tip on how to attract a (possibly nerdy) man:  get yourself a Star Wars t-shirt.  But make sure it's an old-school Star Wars t-shirt, and not one from Episode One or something.  Apparently that's bad.  I wouldn't know.  I've seen the whole series exactly once, and I fell asleep during each one of the movies...but the shirt is super-comfy.

* OK, he got called to Canada.  I say "out of the country" so that I can sound like one of those women whose husband has a high-powered, globe trotting career.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Dance, monkey! DANCE!!!

Being "noted" is kind of a lot of pressure, guys.  I've never really known what it's like to be popular, but I'm assuming this is what those pretty girls went through in high school.  I feel like everyone is waiting for me to entertain them. All day long, I had fleeting ideas for blog posts, but none of them really stuck. 

First, I thought it would be a good idea to post about stuff that is sold to consumers as being awesome, but really sucks.  You know, like pumps for lotion (I can never get the bottom inch of product out!) or gift cards (the ones that don't pay you the difference and make you spend the exact amount or more than is on the card).  But I didn't want you all to think I was a big whiner. 

Then, I thought maybe I should write about my surgery and how I kept thinking I was dying from a pulmonary embolism during my recovery, but it turned out I was just full of gas that they pumped into my body so that they could burn my fallopian tubes through my belly button without puncturing any important organs.  Or maybe about how I'm a bit of a hypochondriac.  But medical stuff is kind of gross, so I shot that down too.

Yes, this silly child is injured.  No, really.  He is.
Most of my day was spent with The Kid at Children's Mercy Hospital, getting x-rays on a foot and leg that has been causing him to limp since yesterday.  Good blog fodder, I thought.  But then he spent most of the time giggling excitedly and singing songs for the doctors and nurses.  In the end, no fracture was visible on the film, but the limp remained, so they just sent him home with a boot to wear for a week or so and a huge collection of stickers.  Not very exciting. 

Finally, when I got home, I logged on to Facebook to see if there was anything interesting I could weigh in on.  I noticed that my news feed had pretty much come to a halt since most everyone was out drinking and partying, being that it's Saturday night and all.  I don't want to go out drinking.  Bars are way too loud and they cost too much money.  Also, being hungover sucks.  I'm not saying that I don't drink or go out sometimes, but honestly I'd rather stay home with my family or go out to a really fabulous dinner.  Another dead end.

So, yeah.  I've got nothin'.  Sorry.  For those of you who clicked on this post hoping to see a monkey, well, I don't have one of those either, but I do have a chimp!  I saw this movie trailer tonight and it almost made me cry.  If this doesn't melt your heart, then you are clearly dead inside:

Just sayin'.
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