Long time readers will know that every now and then I write a blog post that is just a blog post. This is one of those. So, those that are here looking for laugh out loud, hilarious, embarrassing stories please check out this post or this post.
This past weekend I had Saturday Date Night with LSU Friend at the Draft House to view Bad Teacher and down some queso and pizza. The movie was funny, but not even Justin Timberlake not living up to my expectations as a nerdy substitute teacher can pull down Bad Ass Queso from the Draft House. After our intimate dinner and a movie, LSU Friend dragged me to WalMart across the street so she could stock up on snacks (does anyone else always type “snakes” instead of snacks? No? just me…) for her buddies birthday party the next day.
Weird.
This WalMart is weird. It’s a Super WalMart, but isn’t smaller than any other regular WalMart I’ve ever been in. This means that you have the large food area, but then the rest of the store is smooched together with no rhyme or reason at all.
Examples… There was a random display of scented wax for making candles right next to the bathing suit cover ups and the Nursing Scrubs. There was a large selection of Lemonade and other Crystal Light knock offs in the sewing aisle. They had Big Business for sale on Blue Ray for 5$, but not on regular DVD. (Okay this isn’t an example of this particular store laid out in an odd way, but this just made me mad so I wanted to include it somewhere.)
Also, the rear wall of this WalMart (you know where the soda and dog food are stacked) wasn’t a real wall. It was one of those fake walls you see at Cosco or Sam Club. Like, you could look through the wall and see a whole other store back there with more food and racks of cheap tee shirts. I mean I understand needing a stock room, but that stock area was the size of this too small WalMart. Why have all that extra room? And why have it open to the masses shopping on the store side of the dog food wall? It kinda felt like Narnia might have been on the other side, so I wanted to sneak over, but then I remembered I was at WalMart and Narnia would probably have a door at Target before WalMart.
Oh and there was an awesome bike selling cheese in the deli! But, alas… there was no chain.
Awesome find! Trick beer pong balls! But alas… the balls lie and bounce no higher than regular ping pong balls.
On Sunday, George Michael and I headed to a local dog park for an Austin Great Dane Meet Up. George Michael was a little over whelmed by all the large dogs and preferred to play with the non-Dane puppies in the park. However, I was able to trick him into being social with his own kind for a few minutes to get a few photos. It was so cool to see what I can only describe as a herd of Great Danes. They are so big! They are so pretty! They are so awkward! They are so not active! For the most part they stood around in small groups, just like the humans stood around in small groups. We, the humans, talked about how long we’ve had our Danes, where we got them, and funny stories about them. I’m sure they stood around chatting about favorite treats, those fucking pesky squirrels, and how wonderful a nap would feel right then.
Okay, blog readers, I’ve done a lot for you in the past. In the past year, well almost year, I’ve slaved over my TV set recapping series just to be seriously pissed off when people like Gretchen win Project Runway, I’ve embarrassed most of my friends (and I don’t have that many to start with), and I’ve shamed myself countless times by telling and retelling way too many awkward stories about my life. I’ve done this all for you readers.
So, I’m asking for something in return. I need advice.
My sister, over at www.froggyandthemouse.com is on this HUGE blog kick. She just got her own domain, she upped her blogging skills by tackling wordpress, she got some designer to make her fancy new graphics, she started Tweeting, she has a specific FaceBook page just for her blog, she blogs like every day… Can we all just take a moment and bask in my sister’s awesomeness…
Okay no more basking, back to doing.
I by no means and am trying to be my sister, but Sister has this goal of us both going to the BlogHer 2012 Conference and to do this, I would much rather have a sponsor (or multiple sponsors) to pay for a big chunk of the expense. Therefore I need to up my blog awesomeness and get some more exposure.
Being a part of BlogHer is really cool. I applied and did a lot of work like five months ago just to be put on a waiting list. Now, you can find me on their website www.blogher.com and that ad there ->
Yeah, if you click that I get paid… heck yeah!
My big issue with marketing my blog is I feel like it doesn’t fall into a nice, neat category for readers. Meaning I can’t market to fashion sites, because my blog is not a fashion blog. It’s not an entertainment blog nor a TV blog. I’m not a mother, military wife, or deaf African American gardener. If anyone can figure out how to explain LemonsLemonsLemons in 5 words or less, please let me know. And just FYI, “Awkward 20 something” seems to be too vague and hasn’t really helped me.
I would also appreciate some feedback about what you like and don’t like about my site. Do you like the title or do you think it’s weird and has nothing to do with what I write about? Do you like my blog’s simplistic style or should I jazz it up a bit? Are the BlogHer ads in a weird spot? Is the font to small? Do I use to many pictures or not enough pictures? Are you on Twitter? Would you follow LemonsLemonsLemons if it was on Twitter? What are you favorite posts ever? Which posts did you not care for? Do you miss the TV recaps? Would you like more red carpet coverage?
I know I’m asking a lot, but I’m very interested in hearing what you guys have to say and how y’all feel. I know many of you don’t comment very often, but please help me out today and leave a quick note.
Oh, and because I don’t expect you to do everything for me, here is a mini post.
Last week, Boyfriend and I drove to San Antonio to hang out with my parents, grandparents, and uncle. 30 minutes before we left Boyfriend came limping into the kitchen where my grandmother and I were playing a card game while waiting for dad to finish the ribs on the grill.
Boyfriend: “Um, do you think your parents have a Band-Aid?
Since Boyfriend refuses to wear shoes whenever he is within 100 feet of a pool, of course he was walking barefoot while cleaning the filter and of course he cut his foot. My mom quickly transformed in Wonder Mom and had his foot bandaged in less than five. One Dora the Explorer later and he was fine. Five minutes after that we were all sitting around the table eating ribs and everything in the world was good once again.
On Monday I came to a bag full of this on my table.
According to Boyfriend ALL this was needed to help him heal properly because his foot had almost fallen off in San Antonio.
Oh, and in case you are wondering what a “finger cot” is, here is a visual.
Yes, Boyfriend has been walking around all week with a tiny condom on his toe and he sees nothing wrong with this.
Please, please leave some comments and help me out. Thanks y’all!
I wrote this post last weekend, but since it’s about buying my dad a Father’s Day gift and sometimes he reads this blog I’m waiting until Monday to post. However, I could not wait until Monday to write it, because I don’t want to lose any of my annoyance or vigor in this subject.
I officially hate Dick’s Sporting Goods. I will never go there again.
The thing is, I have all these negative emotions not because some A-hole sales person pissed me off, not because they royally screwed up an online order, not because as I walking in the store they ass raped me and then sold off my first born child. No, I hate them simply because they suck.
…
Correction The Dick’s Sporting Goods at the Hill Country Galleria in Bee Caves, Texas sucks.
This store has got to be the crappiest sports store I’ve ever stepped into. Which really disappointed me because A: The only other Dick’s I’ve ever been in was the one in San Antonio at the Rim and that store is freaking AWESOME and B: I really needed to get my dad a father’s day gift that day, since I didn’t have the dog with me and could therefor go shopping without my dog passing out due to heat exhaustion in my car. The San Antonio store is like two stories and has “stuff” for like every sport you could dream about participating in and well, I didn’t spend a lot of time looking like crazy in depth, but it seemed really fabulous. Oh, AND (just to add some icing) it’s not like I was walking into Dick’s with one random extremely specific piece of sporting equipment I wanted to buy. In fact I had a list of multiple ideas of things I could get my father – none being very specific – and I was still disappointed.
Item #1: Texas A&M athletic shorts.
My Dad likes to lounge around the house in workout/athletic shorts. I just happen to be an expert on these since Boyfriend owns approximately 43 pairs of this specific type of shorts therefor making me an expert in buying them. I know to look for a good drawstring and deep pockets and logos or prints sewn into the shorts instead of just stamped on. I got this. (Okay, so I know what you’re thinking, this is maybe sorta kinda a specific thing and I said in the above paragraph that I wasn’t looking for specific things, but really in Austin, TX looking for university wear of ANY school in Texas isn’t weird. We don’t have a professional team in my city, so collegiate wear is EVERYWHERE.)
First of all, the Support Your Team sections was dismally small. Like, I’ve seen dorm rooms bigger than this area. I kept turning the corner thinking that there had to be more of a selection on the other side, but the other side was full of those Nike running shorts that only serious runners (you know the ones with the tiny little hats and bottled water belts) and sorority girls wears. Which by the way, before you start thinking “BS Lemon Lady I’ve seen you sport those" I wear the $7.99 knockoffs from Academy. Thank you very much.) Seriously they could have renamed Dick’s and made it “Sorority Girl and Serious Runners with Small Hat and Water Bottle Belts Sporting Goods” but I get it. Nothing runs of the tongue better than Dick’s.
(coughthatswhatshesaidcough)
Back to the Support Your Team section… I get that I live in a city that at times feels like it’s been painted in Burn Orange. I get this. I understand this. In fact, I fully support this as I went to that school myself. (Actually if you want to get technical my Dad fully supports this since he paid for my education, but that’s kinda a sore subject around my house.) So, I expected to find more Longhorns stamped on things than anything maroon and white, but when I say that there was literally two different A&M Tee Shirts and that was it for anything pro Aggies I’m being completely honest. I mean come on Dick’s A&M is only 120 miles away and is the second largest school in the State of Texas… where is your love and support? I think I should also let y’all know that there really wasn’t that much UT clothing either. What was taking up 65% of the dorm room sized area? Texas Ranger crap. And you know that if they had sucked last year the way they have always sucked there would have only been like three jerseys and a lone baseball hat. It was just an extremely disappointing section of an extremely disappointing store.
Item #2: Fun, Random Golf Accessories.
When in doubt, go to the golf area. I have no idea what any of that crap is but it always seems exciting to Boyfriend who golfs and Dad golfs so… yeah Dad’s getting some golf… stuff. Except there is no random golf crap area. What??? Where are all the golf gloves, golf towels, golf rangefinders, golf ball cleaners, golf watches…??? Where are these things??? Let me tell you, they are not at the Dick’s in Bee Caves, so don’t look there. I mean I could either buy him a box of balls (with the store I’m at somewhere there is a Dick in the Box joke, I just can’t get there) or like a golf tee. That’s it.
No thank you Dick’s. I’m not that desperate and I love my father more.
Item #3: Fun Pool Toys.
My dad turns into an eight year old when around water. Pool, beach, river, whatever he doesn’t discriminate. Last year my parents built a pool in their backyard and my father is in Heaven. (To be honest I’m in Heaven, too, when I’m lucky enough to get to spend a weekend there.) So, I thought some fun pool toys would make a great gift. Rafts! Floaties! Random sinking things! Oh, except Dick’s had nothing. Not a noodle. Not a flipper. Nothing. They did have $50 goggles and underwater weights. Because nothing says Happy Father’s Day like overpriced, lime green, protective eye wear and a really heavy spongy weight that might as well scream, “You need to lose a few pounds!”. Fail Dick’s. You fail.
Item #4: Golf Shirt.
Okay, I know, a golf shirt is not exciting at all and honestly this was not on my list when I was all bright eyed and bushy tailed 20 minutes ago when I entered the soul sucking store that is Dick’s. But, I figured I might as well take a look. Actually, at this point I was just wondering around with a UBBER confused look on my face and I needed to focus on something. GOLF WEAR! All hope is not lost! I can actually get a gift out of this expedition.
I pulled myself together and walked to men’s golf clothing. Oh look a nice shirt - $78. Oh look another nice shirt - $69.99. Oh loo - $112!!! (I kid you not, I saw a normal looking red and blue golf shirt for $112.) I feel kinda bad writing this, because I don’t want y’all to think I don’t love my father, because I do. I would spend thousands on this man if I could afford it. My new job is awesome, but I’m not making quite as much as I was and I’m trying really hard (sometimes unsuccessfully) to live on a budget. My biggest problem with these prices are not that they are expensive. I get it that Nike is expensive. I get it that golf is just an expensive sport all around. What I don’t understand is mother F-ing Dick’s!!!
…wait for it…
IT IS THE FUCKING THURSDAY BEFORE FUCKING FATHER’S DAY!!! WHERE ARE THE GOD DAMN SALES DICK’S!!! ISN’T THIS YOUR BIGGEST WEEKEND OF YOUR WHOLE FUCKING YEAR!!! … FUCK!!!
Okay, I feel better now. This post is exactly the reason why I need to start going back to yoga. Well, this post and my love for all things that start with Mexican and end with Food. Hopefully my father likes his Father’s Day gift that I just ended up ordering online while my dog napped at my feet.
(Sorry for all the cursing, Dad. But I did it all for you…)
Boyfriend came home Monday night to find me and the dog laying on the couch, half asleep, and drooling… the dog, not me. He then quickly made my day by saying, “Hey are you watching the debate?”
Me: (jumping up) “The debate? What debate?” Boyfriend: “The Republican debate. On CNN…” Me: “I had no idea! How did I miss this?”
Somewhere between all the news on Wiennergate, Asshole Arnold, and oh yeah Bin Laden being killed my news websites had completely let me down. I had no idea Presidential Debates were already starting.
Here’s the thing… I love all things that deal with electing the President of The United States of America. I love all the bullshitting, name calling, question diverting candidates equally. I love the political cartoons and commercials. I REALLY love the debates! Really I do. Yes, of course there is usually only one I could ever actually vote for, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love all the candidates equally. You know just like a mother, I could never have a favorite. I mean how do you pick a favorite bullshitting sweater from your other favorite bullshitting sweaters? I can’t.
The Presidential Election is just like the Olympics and World Cup (two other events that happen every four years THAT I LOVE).
You’ve got your “sure things” Olympics: Michael Phelps, Canadian skiers, and ridiculous Ice Dancer costumes World Cup: Spain, numerous red cards, and underperforming Africa Presidential Election: Obama, Romney, and Jon Stewart
You’ve got your “wild cards” Olympics: Underage Chinese gymnasts (could also be a “sure thing” depending how you look at it), Curling getting such a cult following, and any Hockey team not from USA, Canada, or Russia World Cup: Team USA, any other team that isn’t one of the 7 that has actually won in the past, and Women’s World Cup Presidential Election: Minorities, Women, and well… Ron Paul
You’ve got your “must see TV” Olympics: Opening Ceremonies, women’s gymnastics, and giant 300lb men bawling after they won the gold in Weightlifting World Cup: USA vs. England, the legs… and abs when they take off their shirts in celebration, and the final game Presidential Election: The debates, the loser calling the winner and congratulating them, and all the SNL skits leading up to the big day
You’ve got your “WFT moments?” Olympics: Tonya Harding, Shaun White’s hair, and powerwalking World Cup: England pretty much just stepping aside and letting USA score on them, Mexico ALWAYS SUCKING, and Zidane head butting Presidential Election: Sarah Palin anytime all the time, Perot’s TV shows, and George Bush “winning”
It’s like Monday night was the start of it all. The opening ceremonies. The first blow to the vuvusela. All the candidates we out in their best suits, with their blue or red ties, and flag pins. (Well all except Michelle Bachmann who looked like a slutty priest in her black suit with low cut white blouse) It was like the first day of school. They all had just gotten haircuts and Botox and probably new coke addictions. They were nervous and excited. All were quick to talk bad about the past (Obama and even Bush at times) but had so many uplifting hopes and dreams for the future. Non really wanted to alienate themselves from their neighbors to the right and left in case they need their endorsement later, just like teenage girls trying to figure out who their mean girl minions would be as soon as they established themselves as Queen Bee.
Oh, and then there was Ron Paul who just looked horribly uncomfortable during the whole thing. You know all night he was thinking, “FAIR TAX!!! Damn all of you the answer is FAIR TAX!!! And how can you not pick between Elvis and Johnny Cash??? The answers are FAIR TAX and CASH all the way!!!”
A note before the real blog post… I don’t hang out with LSU Friend every day of the week. In fact sometimes there are whole weeks we never see each other and the only communication I have with her is a random text that says, “SAIL”. However, last week it was kinda like we were dating. I mean I saw her ALL THE TIME! Last Sunday we got drunk together over sweet potato fries, a bottle of wine, and a co-workers birthday. Oh, and it wasn’t a “dancing on the table” drunk. We got crazy emotional drunk… Can my life get any more awkward? Turns out it can. All I have to do is start downing moderately priced Cabernets and, oh… then ask my dear friend to tell me about her dad dying. Because who doesn’t like getting sloppy drunk and crying in public restaurants???
Anyway, so that was last Sunday. I saw her again on Tuesday when I was craving Thai food and didn’t want to wait for Boyfriend to get home before stuffing my face in some Tom Yum. I then saw her again the next day, Wednesday, for Blues On The Green. I then saw her the next day, Thursday, for kickball. I’m not telling you this because I don’t like hanging out with my friend. I love LSU Friend, and I’m crazy grateful to even have her as a friend since I don’t that than many to begin with. I just don’t want y’all thinking that my blog has become Lemon Lady and LSU Friend’s Crazy Adventures (oh and there’s a little Boyfriend thrown in there just for kicks). Because, to be honest with you guys, that just might be the name of our reality show we will be pitching to the Travel Channel real soon.
All that being said, this post is about LSU Friend and me.
About a week ago, I was taking a bath with one of my awesome bath bombs from LUSH when Boyfriend came in and surprised me with two tickets to go see Chelsea Handler on Sunday (yesterday). Reason number 4,284,119 why I totally adore him. Reason number 4,284,120 why I love Boyfriend, he told me he really didn’t want to go (because what straight guy would) and I should take a friend.
This awesome gift from Boyfriend is what led me to hanging out again with LSU Friend last night. She picked up at 5:20 and we headed to 2nd Kitchen for cocktails and food before the big show. http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifThree drinks, 2 hours, and some majorly amazing carbs later I looked down at my phone and saw that it was already 7:00. I knew finding a place to park would take a few minutes because of the last time we went to the Bass Concert Hall. That was a few months ago when LSU friend, Cupcake, and I saw West Side Story. When we finally pulled into a parking spot in the garage just down the street from the Bass it was 7:25 and the play started at 7:30. We raced as fast as we could in our heals to walk in the door just as they were flashing the lights for everyone to stop over paying for wine in the lobby and find their seats. We then had to hike up the SIX FLIGHTS OF STAIRS to the very top of the highest balcony because we bought the cheapest seats we could find. Just as we sat down the show started and for the opening act my mind jumped back and forth between, “OMG I think I’m going to have a heart attack – I should totally start doing my cardio” to “Wait, are they dance fighting? This is gayest thing I’ve ever seen… ever!”
Anyway… My point is, it’s 7:00 and we are so going to be late.
Me: “LSU Friend, you need to chug your wine. We’ve got to go!” LSU Friend: “Dude, Lemon Lady, I’m not going to chug my glass of 10 dollar wine.” Me: “Look, LSU Friend, I’m going to need you to woman up and throw that glass back. We need to get going.” LSU Friend: (drinking as much as she can) “Ahg… Okay, lets head out.”
We successfully made it into the car without LSU Friend getting run over by a bus, and headed up Congress where we got stuck at every single red light!
LSU Friend: (pointing to things outside the car and looking around) “Look, why do you think she’s wearing scrubs?” Me: “I don’t know. GREEN! GO!” LSU Friend: “Do you think that guy is homeless or just hanging on a bench downtown looking a little… rough?” Me: (never one not to judge) “Um, I think he’s just a grungy dude…. GREEN LIGHT!”
For those of y’all who don’t live in Austin and who didn’t go to the greatest college of all time, Bass Concert Hall is on the UT campus and right next to the Frank Erwin Center, which is our large concert/sport venue. So, we start getting close to Bass and we start seeing A LOT of people. Too many people to just being going to Chelsea Handler. Too many people, parking way too far out to just be going to just be going to Chelsea Hander. Not only were there a crap load of people, it seemed like… well… and interesting mix of folks. Like there was a woman who had to have been at least 45 in pleather pants, chunky platforms, and a sequined tank top with not bra. Then we stopped at a light behind a pickup with three guys in the bed on the truck. One of the guys wore dreadlocks (which is SO not weird in my town) but they were arranged in the most beautiful updo I had ever seen on a dude. I mean they were woven into one of those ballerina like buns that I can never seem to perfect and he was wearing this nice scarf around his head. Beautiful…
At this point I know we are going to be late. I know we are going to be “those girls” who arrive in the middle of the opening act and smelling like wine and liquor. But, LSU Friend and I were now super curious as to who this um… eclectic group of people were going to see at the Erwin Center. So, being my mother’s child and being egged on by LSU Friend, I roll down the window, plop my head out, and start waving at the people on the side walk.
Me: (waving my arms wildly): “Hey! Hey! Hey you people!!!” Random Dude: (looking at me and point back at himself): “Me?” Me: “Yeah, you’ll do. Yes, you!” Random Dude: “What?” Me: “Why are you here?” Random Dude: “What?” Me: “WHY ARE YOU HERE? WHAT IS GOING ON?” Random Dude: “Rush!”
That’s right readers… I was going to be late to Chelsea Handler because of the dudes that sing YYZ.
Okay and just for the record, I understand how bitchy this makes me sound. I understand how “that girl” this makes me sound. I DON’T CARE! I’m going to be late because of a Canadian Rock band that was formed in 60s! I’m going to be late because of a band had a Synthesizer Period in the 80s! I’m going to be late because of Mother F-ing Rush???
Oh, heck no!
I’m pretty sure if I wasn’t in a dress I would have gotten out of LSU Friend’s car and directed traffic myself to get us into the parking garage faster. Once we parked, I was out of her Accord and powerwalking to the concert hall as fast as I could. All while LSU Friend is moaning and whining about her legs being sore from some workout video she did on Friday.
Me: (pausing in the middle of the side walk): “Suck it up friend! We are going to be late!” LSU Friend: “Wait, what?” Me: “Late!” LSU Friend: “What are you talking about? It doesn’t start until 8, nerd.” Me: “7:30! It starts at 7:30, which was like 4 minutes ago.” LSU Friend: “I’m pretty sure it starts at 8…” Me: (pulling out the tickets) “It starts at seven thri… oh wait… okay you might be right.” LSU Friend: “Is this why you made me chug a whole glass of red wine and almost mow down poor innocent rednecks and their mullets in front of the Erwin center?” Me: “Um… maybe. I mean I would have sworn it started at 7:30.”
And then, instead of putting the tickets back in my purse, pausing to catch my breath, and calming walking to the theatre, I dropped the tickets (which were really just printed from the computer) and they started to blow away. FML
LSU Friend: “Holy crap! Get the tickets.” Me: (running and trying to stomp on them) “They keep moving! Help! Help!” LSU Friend: “Quick! Quick!” Me: “Why do they hate me? Come back tickets! Come back!”
So please just close your eyes and picture this. Two women in their late 20s running down the street screaming for pieces of paper to “not hate them” and “come back to your home, why do you hate your home”. And here’s the thing, sometimes people drop things, and I’m sure I’m not the only person that has ever dropped important papers to have them start blowing away, but it’s just another one of those things that would happen to me. Like every other group of girls that attended that show were all perfectly poised, had on perfect outfits and perfect heals, and were all standing outside the concert hall talking about their perfect lives… and then there is us, LSU Friend and me running wildly down the street chasing our hopes and dreams of seeing Chelsea Hander, hair going everywhere, already sweaty from power walking from the car… I mean the whole scenario just sums up my life.
But the show was AWESOME!
And now some fun videos and photos
In case you didn’t get the “SAIL” joke from earlier...
And here’s some Rush for your lovely Monday…
LSU Friend and I before the ticket chasing…
Oh and last night, after the show, Boyfriend and I dressed up the dog in Boyfriend’s company’s sweatshirt. Isn’t he adorable?
Do you ever look back and wonder where the time goes?
Okay, trust me. I’m not trying to get all sentimental on y’all or anything, but sometimes I have to wonder.
10 years ago I moved to Germany 7 years ago I graduated High School 5 years ago I started dating Boyfriend 3 years ago nephew #1 (The Mouse) came into this world 2 years ago Boyfriend and I officially moved in together 3 months ago we picked up our 17lb Great Dane who now weights at least 65lbs 3 months ago my second adorable nephew (The Froggy) was born 1.5 months ago I start my new, amazing, awesome, fabulous job.
Oh, and as of today I’m a park of BlogHer! In case you haven’t noticed the changes…
Yesterday, Boyfriend and I played our first kickball game of the season. LSU Friend introduced me to her buddy Jen who is captain of the WAKA team “Power Bottoms” (don’t ask) and invited Boyfriend and myself to play. My kickball experience includes the following…
Recess and “Walk and Talk” kickball lover and player at Dare Elementary School 1994 - 1995 Boyfriend’s family annual Easter and Thanksgiving kickball game 2006 – Now
…
So, when I was asked if I wanted to share my ball kicking skills, of course I was all, “Heck yeah!”
Then, to my complete surprise, Boyfriend said he wanted to play as well.
We made it to our first game on time (amazingly), picked up our bright green tee-shirts, and poured our first beers. And, now you understand why I was super excited to play kickball. 1. I get a tee-shirt 2. Beer… and a lot of it
And because I seem to really like lists today, Here is what happened during the game...
Boyfriend made an out. I kicked a base run. Boyfriend played in flip flops while half the team was in cleats. I drank a lot of beer and got bit my mosquitos. We didn’t win We didn’t lose We tied
Go Power Bottoms!!!
Oh, and because I can’t stand not posting cute photos of George Michael.
Last night LSU Friend, Boyfriend, and I went to eat Thai Food because I’ve been craving it for a good four days.
After I finished my Tom Yum and after we split the check, Boyfriend blew my mind with this piece of wisdom…
“If you girls (referring to LSU Friend and myself) eat less Taco Cabana you would have more wreaths and holiday decorations.”
…
I can’t make up the random things that come out of this man’s mouth.
If LSU Friend and I were to stop stuffing our faces full of reasonably priced Mexican food and watered down frozen margaritas we would be better holiday decorators just like our mothers.
This whole conversation started with baby birds.
Evidently LSU Friend’s mom has a deep love and passion for holiday decorating, as does my mother. LSU Friend’s mom hangs holiday wreaths on all four of her home’s outer doors. My mother hangs a giant wreath on the front door and then a smaller one on the kitchen pantry door. Once when LSU Friend still lived with her parents, birds built a nest in one of her mother’s wreaths and because birds are nasty, icky creatures after the baby birds hatched and flew away the wreath was so gross from the bird dropping she had to throw it out. Because of this (and I’m sure her deep passion for Target sundresses and alcohol) LSU Friend has no wreaths to hang on her front door.
I, myself, own one wreath that I hang for Christmas. Other than that my holiday decorations include my tiny, fake, Charlie Brown Christmas tree I got on sale at Tuesday Morning one day in July like six years go, a Dallas Cowboys nut crackers that is really Boyfriend’s not mine, some extremely awkward to hang anywhere garland of glass balls, and two ornaments for my tree (a pickle and a dinosaur). I own absolutely no holiday décor that is not for Christmas. I have no wooden eggs for my table on Easter. I have no rubber bats for Halloween or wicker bunnies for the spring. This is what my sister’s mantle looks like on Christmas.
This is what my mother’s dining room chandelier looks like on Christmas.
This is my tree.
So here’s the thing… I get I don’t have any holiday nesting skills or even desires. But, I also don’t understand how my love for all edible things made by Mexicans has anything to do with my lack of a Martha Stewart gene. I guess I just have to file this one under, “Reasons why after 5 years of being together I’m still never bored with Boyfirend”.
Two: Boyfriend had a “OMG is the world ending because what I’m looking at right now is absoFREAKINGlutely blowing my mind” experience.
Let me explain.
On Saturday, after I got my haircut and after Boyfriend played a round of golf, we headed to the movie theater to see The Hangover 2. As we are walking into the theater to buy tickets I notice the guy in fount of us at the box office is sporting some really cool looking Nikes. Like this…
I then casual say to Boyfriend, “Hey, Boyfriend. Aren’t his shoes cool? I like them.” Boyfriend: “Yeah, cool, whatever. Hey you have to pay I forgot my wallet.”
This is literally the reaction he gives me. Yes, Lemon Lady those are not the ugliest shoes in the world, but can we focus on more important facts of life, like the fact that I forgot my wallet and you will have to pay for my ticket and my half of our fried pickles order. (Our movie theater, Alamo Draft House, is just that awesome to have fried pickles.)
Then, two hours pass when we are in theater 2 laughing at many shenanigans happening on the big screen. Of course during these two hours I drink two giant glasses of ice tea, so when the movie is over and the credits have finished rolling (because when you watch either The Hangover or The Hangover 2 you have to watch the credits because that’s when they show all the really funny photos of what actually happened the during the night they can’t remember) I practically hurdle people to get to the bathroom first.
Good thing about my movie theater: Fried pickles Bad thing about my movie theater: only 3 stalls in the bathroom – I mean what’s up with that? This isn’t communist China Draft House! Get some more pee pots. K, thanks.
Anyway, I relieve myself and then walk out to meet Boyfriend. He is standing just outside the box office in the blazing Texas summer heat. As soon as I reach him he practically pounces on me…
Boyfriend: “Look behind you!” Me: (looking but not seeing anything other than people trying to leave the theater and we’re kinda standing right in their way because Boyfriend refuses to move aside.) “What? What are you looking at?” Boyfriend: “Down there.” Me: “Where?” Boyfriend: “No, over there” (pointing to the front of the rather long line to buy tickets for the night time movies) Me: “What are you pointing at, yeah the line is a lot longer now, but it’s Saturday night.” Boyfriend: “No, look at his shoes.” Me: (Finally noticing what Boyfriend is so excited about) “Oh, hey. Those are those same cool Nikes. So did you like the movie? I thought it was funny.”
At this point Boyfriend is staring at me like I have fungus growing on my face, and I start to wonder if I said something or did something wrong. Was I secretly supposed to know that those shoes are his favorite things in the world and I didn’t buy them for him? Are those the Nikes his grandmother was buried in and I’m not paying them the respect they deserve? Did he secretly design those shoes himself and Nike broke into our home one night real late and stole the design and now every time we see those shoes we are need to stop and curse those Nike A-holes out loud?
Me: “I don’t get it. What? Boyfriend: “Those are the same shoes you said you liked when we went into the movie and there they are again in the exact same place in line when we come out of the movie.”
So, Time Out…Are y’all following what he is saying here? Before the movie we stood behind some dude in the line for tickets with cool shoes on and now there is another random dude in the roughly the same place in line with the same shoes on. Okay, Time In…
Me: “Okay.” Boyfriend: “Are you not seeing the awesomeness of this? Those are shoes, we’ve never seen before in our lives and now they appear before us twice in one day in THE EXACT SAME PLACE!” Me: “But on different people…” Boyfriend: “I KNOW!!! Different people, but the same shoes!” Me: “I don’t get it. I mean I get it. I get that those are the same shoes standing in the line being worn by different people, but it’s really not that big of a deal.” Boyfriend: “NOT A BIG DEAL!!! It’s a huge deal! This is the cosmic universe trying to tell us something.” Me: “Um, no. This is what normal, non-crazy people call a coincidence.” Boyfriend: “No this is bigger than a coincidence. This is something more.” Me: (Trying desperately to change the subject to something that doesn’t make me want to commit my boyfriend to a mental hospital) “Did you like the movie?” Boyfriend: “The movie? What? No, we are talking about the shoe Gods right now and what they are trying to tell us.”
Yes, world, my boyfriend would rather talk about a pair of grey and green Nike tennis shoes instead of a movie that includes the following… 1. Monkeys who like oral sex 2. Drinking Fanta from a bag 3. Having sex with a she-male Thai hooker 4. Bradley Cooper’s gorgeous baby blues 5. Why a kid who just started college would already have a college ring 6. Monks doing shots 7. The mysteries that live in Zach Galifianakis’ beard 8. The fact that anytime Ed Helms sings he gets like 15% cuter but even if he spent the whole movie singing he would not be good looking enough to land a chick as hot as his fiancé 9. The awkward, awkward toasting scene 10. A surprise wedding singer that would have been super cool if I just hadn’t seen Bridesmaids
Boyfriend: “You just don’t understand” Me: (At this point all I can think about is that scene in Meet The Fockers where Ben Stiller is arguing with the airlines on phone because they sent him the wrong bag.) “Seriously Boyfriend? Do you not think that the people over at Nike thought to themselves that although they just produced a very nice looking shoe that they might actually want to make a profit off this shoes so they might want to produce MORE THAN ONE PAIR! Like they all sat around a big important looking conference table and finally Mr. Smarty Pants in the corner was like, “Nike dudes. We should totally have our little starving China kids make like a billion pairs of this awesome show so we’ll make like a billion dollars and never have to work again.” Do you get this? That there are THOUSANDS of these shoes being produced and sold all over the world, even in Austin, Texas.” Boyfriend: “All I’m saying is that I’ve never seen those shoes before and then I see them again IN THE EXACT SAME PLACE AS BEFORE! It’s a little freaky.” Me: “No. you know what would be freaky? It would be freaky if the shoes were just sitting there and not being worn by some guy. It would have been freaky if they turned on their own and stared at you with eyes that popped up from the tongue of the shoe. It would be freaky if they hurdled themselves at you and tried to strangle you in their laces. Just being worn by someone else at a very popular movie theater on a Saturday night IS NOT FREAKY!” Boyfriend: “You don’t understand me at all…”
I kid you not, 24 hours later we were still arguing about this.
It was one of those fake walls you see at Cosco or Sam Club. Like, you could look through the wall and see a whole other store back there with more food and racks of cheap tee shirts. I mean I understand needing a stock room, but that stock area was the size of this too small WalMart. Why have all that extra room? And why have it open to the masses shopping on the store side of the dog food wall? It kinda felt like Narnia might have been on the other side, so I wanted to sneak over, but then I remembered I was at WalMart and Narnia would probably have a door at Target before WalMart. 
But alas… the balls lie and bounce no higher than regular ping pong balls.
