Overall, I would consider myself a very un-political person. I just never really cared and was completely uninterested in current affairs and government. It is not a good trait by any means. I can tell you what celebrity married who, and what their kids names are. . . but I wouldn’t be able to recognize our Vice President Cheney in a line-up. I know. PATHETIC.
But things are changing for me. With blogs, Twitter, and current.com, I have become much more aware of what is going on in our government and around me in general. I have been able to vote for 10 years now and I have only voted twice so far, none being for presidential elections. The first time was for Arnold Schwarzenegger, and I voted for him because I liked his movies. MOVIES. I know, I can’t even believe it myself. That is just how I think. I am wired differently. That is why I am a video editor and not a lawyer. The second time I voted, I can’t even remember what it was for.
I still don’t understand all politics and have much more learning to do. But I am sure of this. . .
Vote Obama ’08
Vote NO on Prop 8
Vote YES on Prop 2
I am also sure that I will not become like my ultra-conservative, referring to homosexuals as The Gays, “Don’t let a gay person touch you, because you might catch it,” Parents-in-Law. NEVER.
On September 29th, Monty turned one year old. He is the rambunctious son of our neighbors Ben & Judy.
We celebrated with cake from Three Dog Bakery, which based on the look on Thor’s face is delicious.
Happy 1st Birthday Monty!! from stuckee on Vimeo.
Thor and Monty had a blast. Chloe just tolerated Monty because she is a one man gal and her universe revolves around Thor. I am hoping this will change, because Chloe needs a little spice in her life and a love triangle would be just the thing.
Normally I wouldn’t say this, but for that evening I consider it a blessing that they couldn’t talk. Because I am sure all we would of heard was “MORE CAKE! MORE CAKE! MORE CAKE!”
Yesterday I was laying on the sofa when Daniel comes up to me and points out the insignificant, barely noticeable, no point in even mentioning if you value your life, stretch marks on my outer thigh. This was mistake number one. Mistake number two was saying to me “My baby got thick real quick.” Seriously, did he just say thick? A women does not like ANY of her body to be referred to as THICK. Perhaps you can be speaking of her boobs, but then the word would be voluptuous, never ever, no way in hell do you say thick. In my mind, “thick” is just a stone’s throw away from “fat.”
He then tries to redeem himself by saying that the words (that he just vomited out of his mouth) were in fact a compliment. A COMPLIMENT! Daniel tries to explain by saying that I had stretch marks 10 years ago when we first started dating. (Yes, he is STILL talking about them.) The conversation continues with me wondering how he can be so stupid, and him saying that the stretch marks just mean that I grew from a child into a women fast, hence causing stretch marks. By this point I still don’t see where the compliment was hiding. (And if he says “stretch marks” one more time I will be forced to spike his coffee with laxative tonight.)
Daniel then says that I misunderstood everything that he was saying, and that what he was actually thinking was “Boy, you are sexy.” Why the fuck couldn’t he just say that from the start. Let me make it very clear. . . stretch marks DO NOT equal sexy!
I wonder what he will be saying after I have a baby. . .
Last night Daniel and I cooked soup from scratch. For other couples this might be ordinary, but for us this is quite remarkable. I say this because generally Daniel will turn his nose up at anything that I want to prepare, usually having something to do with the presence of tofu or the lack of melted cheese.
Plus, I don’t cook very well. I am not very coordinated in the kitchen and most often, I don’t even enjoy the food I make. But last night was an exception. At 10:30 in the evening we peeled, chopped, stirred, and simmered. And by 1:00 in the morning, the “17 Bean & Barley Soup” was done. I am considering it a success. Daniel is excited to eat it and I didn’t cut any fingers off. Be proud of me.
I hate being sick. Seriously. I really hate it. I despise the head-splitting headache, the constant stream of snot, my eyeballs feeling like they are going to be sucked into my brain by all the pressure building up in my skull, and the way my head feels like it is going to implode at any moment from blowing my nose to hard. Needless to say, I take a different approach to being ill than Daniel does. I need to be babied and Daniel’s philosophy is “suck it up, move on, and go to work.”
If I had my wedding to do over again I would make the “in sickness and in health” the opener of our vows. The priest should have said, “Daniel, do you take Sarah as your wife and promise to take care of her when she is a whiny, snot-dripping maniac, who needs sympathy everytime she sneezes, and constant reassurance that she will get better?” And then the look on Daniel’s face would have ruined the photos.
A couple weeks ago Thor had a routine dental cleaning at Vanderhoof Veterinary Hospital. So now I am supposed to brush his teeth daily to keep his teeth pearly white. I am proud to say that I haven’t missed a day yet. However, if Thor could talk, I am sure he would have some choice words for me about his new evening routine.
Every night I sit on the floor and call his name. He knows without even seeing me that he wants nothing to do with anything I have to offer. I usually have to beg him to come to me, for what seems like forever because it is usually the middle of the night and I am so tired that I barely want to brush my own teeth let alone his. Finally he will slither over to me with the same look on his face every time. The look that says “I know that is a toothbrush in your hand, but you are going to use it to slowly pry open my chest and remove my kidney.”
Eventually I finagle his mouth open and brush his teeth with his own special chicken-flavored toothpaste. The whole procedure takes me less than a minute, and afterward he continues with his usual perky self. However, I guarantee that tonight I will call his name and he will shoot me a look that says, “I know that I survived last night and the night before, but tonight I AM SURE that you ARE going to use that toothbrush to slowly pry open my chest and remove an organ.”
Daniel is off from work tonight. It is his turn to inflict the inhumane torture on our poor innocent Thor, so his breath won’t smell like ass for one more day.
I saw Wicked the Musical last night at the Pantages Theatre. It was so frickin’ awesome, I want to see it again. I was lucky enough to break out my friend, Ana Banana, from the cage that her husband and 2 beautiful kids so lovingly built for her. They don’t let her out much, so we had a blast. (Ana, I bet you didn’t think I would write that!)
Ana & I enjoyed the first Act so much, when the curtain fell we were so happy and satisfied (you’d think we just rolled out of bed with Brad Pitt,) that we forgot about intermission and were ready to go home. For two educated women, it was pretty pathetic that we thought the show was over. It didn’t even dawn on us that the actors hadn’t taken their bows. It was just that good. My mom had to remind us that there was a second Act, (you mean we get to climb back into bed with Brad?)
The moral of the story: GO SEE WICKED!
Last night I drank a cup of coffee before bed. I guess this o.k. if, A, you are used to drinking coffee. . . and B, it is decaf. However, neither was the case, so I had an upset stomach all night and my mind was wide-awake, while my body was trying to sleep. Thor (who never wakes before 8:30), got sick of me tossing for hours, and at 6 AM was staring at me to get out of bed, so he could go back to sleep. Therefore, I can only conclude based on these events, that someone must have slipped me a “stupid pill” with my vitamins last night.