I'm a Ray of Sunshine!

I got an award! It's from

Dr Em and Princess WeeWee's Take on Real Life


Here's the instructions for properly receiving the award.


To properly receive this award, the recipient must:

1. Include the award in your post or blog.
2. Answer 10 questions about yourself. 
3. Nominate 10 other bloggers for this award.
4. Link to the nominees and comment on their blog to let them know they are nominated.
5. Link to the person who nominated you.

I'm bad at following rules, so let's see how many of these I actually do.

Nominations:

Filing Jointly...finally
Kayla in Korea

Like the Vodka.

Popcorn Day

Oh, Abigail!

The Bloggess
The Adventures of Captain Dandelion

I nominated seven people. Cause ten requires too much effort.

10 QUESTIONS:

Favorite Color: Peacock. That can count as a colour, right?

Favorite Number: Wait. These aren't questions. They're more like statements. Is this a Jeopardy episode?

Behold the power of my photoshopping skills.

Shit we Say

Do I have a Bachelor of Arts with Honours in Psychology? Yes.

Do I own more books than I own shoes? Of course.

Do I still have really dumb moments? Every. Single. Day.

We were talking about the materials used in older trailers. I stated that older trailers were cheaper built, because they had an aluminium frame, rather than a steel frame.

If you can buy enough aluminium to do
this, its obviously not a pricey material.

Andrew: Christine, they wouldn't have aluminium frames. Aluminium is way more expensive than steel.

Me: That's not possible. You can buy aluminium foil at the grocery store, but I've never seen steel foil. That must mean its too expensive.

Andrew: ...*long pause* ... Promise me to never say that to anyone else. Ever.

I thought I was being extremely logical. Andrew thought otherwise. I DON'T WORK IN THE CONSTRUCTION BUSINESS ANDREW!



I have no idea why I am referencing Star Trek in my blog posts so much.
I don't even watch it.

Sidenote: As a sheet, aluminium foil is the scariest thing in the world to my cats. As a crumpled up ball, its the most magical.

Although Andrew may act like he's the sane one in the relationship, he's got to realize that I'm not the only one who goes off the rails on a crazy train.

This is What Happens when you Live with a Hick

So, I'm taking a shower, and reach out for my shampoo when I see this.

Were it my choice of liquor, there would be Vodka on that shower caddy, with a jug of cranberry juice alongside of it.

While beer can be used as a shampoo, conditioner or rinse, I highly doubt Andrew was using it to get a better shine and bounce to his hair.

Just another day in my life.

The Adventure of Joplin (AKA, my Hair)

It all started with losing our hairdresser. Andrew and I have had the same hairdresser for years now, but this year she's shut down her business due to kids and relocation and shit. And so, my hair became doctorless. Fortunately, it is defintely not homeless, as it's still on my head. Thank God.

However, after over six months without a hair cut, I did start to look homeless. (I was going to put a funny picture of a homeless person, but then realized that there's no such thing as a truly funny picture of a homeless person. My bad.)

So, when I finally found a new hairdresser, I did something I've never done before.

Star Trek reference. Get it?

No, I did not become a lesbian. Although Andrew would love that. Until he realized that, as a lesbian, I would no longer be interested in him. He tends to forget about that part.


My Mother, the Ninja.

My mom and I spent the day shopping for craft supplies for tomorrow. Because the best way to celebrate Mother's Day is by spending the day making ponchos and a tutorial on how to print on fabric. That's how we roll, folks.


Nothing says fun times like business cards and USB keys.

We met each other in town, each bringing our significant others in tow. However, as soon as we started shopping, we ditched my dad and Andrew; they were just slowing us down. Feeling that the craft store was too girlie, they ended up hanging out at Staples. After getting our craft supplies, we decided to ambush them.

So off we went to Staples. Once Mom spotted the men, we attempted to sneak up on them. We did this by crouching down in the aisles, quickly peeking to see if they were still in the same spot. Think clownfish in a sea anemone mixed with a giggly ninja. After five minutes of creeping around with my scarf stuffed in my face so as to muffle my laughter, I made a break for it. Unfortunately, I was wearing Kitty Mae Sue, my new cowboy boots, which tend to announce my presence far before I want to. Conclusion: no one was scared by my sneak up, except for perhaps the old man standing next to my dad and Andrew. He was defnitely not expecting me to pop up. While my mom and I giggled madly, the men were not amused.

My mom and I 5 years ago. We were crazy
then too.

Hopefully, the staff that review the security camera tapes enjoy watching a young adult and middle-aged woman pretend to be Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible, cause that's the shit they're going to have to watch.

The moral of this story? My mom is insane. INSANELY AWESOME! (Which is not a moral at all. A moral would be "Don't count your chickens before they hatch", which is ridiculous, because you need to know how many might hatch so you can pick out awesome names for them. Like Zippy, or Magnus.)

Sidenote: Another moral suggested by Google was "Two blacks do not make one white," which sounds both completely logical and absurdly racist.

Back to the main story. I am so grateful to have such a great mom. She has not only raised me, but has given me more love than I could ever ask for and taught me so many important things. She deserves to have anything she would ever want, including ponchos.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

And a Happy Mother's Day to all you other awesome and crazy moms out there! Hope you all have a great day!

How are Leaders of Sheep Elected? Ewenanimously.

 Yes, I just made that joke.

A couple of weeks ago, my parents and Andrew took me to a sheep farm to cheer me up during my stressful thesis work. Now that that's all done, I can finally post the pictures.

Way to photobomb, Mama Ewe.

 Get ready for random sheep photos. Cause that's all this post is about.

This ewe had her head tilted the entire time I was there.
The entire time. It probably had brain damage.

Here's the first lamb I got to hold. You can all guess the sounds coming out of my mouth at that moment.

I liked this little guy, because he looked like a flirty animal version of Taylor Momsen. 

 

Hey Ladies. I've been baaaaaaaaaahd.



Ok, so there's not that much of a ressemblance... I may have been high while on the farm. 

HIGH ON LIFE!

May or may not be hallucinating right here.

------------------------

P.S. I know my posts have been very minimalistic in the word department lately. I promise I'll jabber more in later posts. Unless I talk too much, then you can just let me know. Andrew lets me know all of the time. Not that it stops me.

I have a million posts on the go, including one about Lucy's Agility Class (disaster), a how-to cleaning guide (Ha!), and a nightmare with killer clowns (terrifying). I just have to actually sit down and finish writing them.

This was the Highlight of my Monday at Work.

I got a triple decker in my bag of mini Ritz sandwiches!

Mother of God, is it ever beautiful!

From another angle.

Yes, my day was so exciting that I had a ten minute photoshoot with a cracker and cheese sandwich.

Three Things: A video, some advice and... Crap, I Forget the Other Thing.

1. If you like animals, British accents, animals with British accents or fart humour, you will like this video. If you like farting animals with British accents, you are probably Andrew. Andrew, get back to work.





The bike. I named it Batman.

 2. Andrew bought a motorcycle on Wednesday. It is the hottest bike ever. When we ride around on it, I feel like a total badass. It's like as soon as I hop on, I want to flip people off and wear black leather pants. And possibly change my name to Moxie Flamerage. Or Pheonix. Rawr.

Now, advice for people riding on motorcycles: wear socks. Seems kind of obvious, but rational thinking has never been my strong suit. I had the heavy leather jacket, a helmet, good shoes and pants, but I totally forgot about socks. This resulted in three hours of freezing or numb ankles; not pleasant.  

3. I still can't remember what the last thing is, so I'm just going to say IT'S FRIDAY, BITCHES! Celebrate your awesomeness!

Yes, yes you are.

WAIT! I REMEMBER THE THIRD THING! Well, now, it's technically the fourth thing, but whatever.

4. I enrolled Lucy and I in agility classes. This will either be amazing, or a total disaster. Because, while Lucy can run and jump like a cheetah on speed, she has also managed to tangle herself in her leach and slam her face into the dirt. Twice. Well, it was more like she slammed into the ground, but then her face bounced and she bit the dust again.

I will keep you all posted on this wonderful and most likely terribly embarrassing endeavour.

This Post is a Cry for Help. From your Boobs.

Ladies.

Makes me giggle everytime.

I am writing this post because I am sick and tired of seeing this everytime I go out. There you are. Getting all fit and shit by jogging down the street. You're wearing $150 running shoes from Sportchek or Dick's, and nice yoga pants from Lululemon.

As much as you take time to look good for your jog, making sure that it doesn't look like you were trying, you always seem to have one thing missing in your ensemble: a good sports bra.

Sidenote for the boys: Sure, you might have fun driving by those bouncing congo bongos, saying "BOINGOINGOINGOING" in your mind (by the way, they don't actually do that noise.) But enjoy it while you can, cause it only goes downhill from that point on.