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Showing posts from September, 2010

There's no we in Glee

I have become obsessed with the show Glee. As with most trends, I was very late to jump on the bandwagon so I watched all the reruns this summer and got HOOKED! I'm now officially a "Gleek," if you will. Every time I would watch an episode this summer, Pat would stick around until the first singing number started and then he'd get up and leave the room saying the show was too ridiculous for him. Last night, I begged him to stay and watch the full episode with me and give it a chance. I was hoping if he watched a full episode, he would catch on to some of the storyline and realize there actually was a plot and then might start to like the show. While he did stay downstairs with me for the entire show, he definitely wouldn't agree that the show has a plot and he definitely will never watch the show with me again. He can't get over the fact that the cast randomly goes into musical numbers, flash mob style, to express their feelings. But what he thinks is even w

Woman versus Wild

Don't get too excited. I'm not being helicoptered into the desert to prove what we all already know: I hate bugs and probably have very few survival skills. But I do sometimes feel as though I live with a bunch of wild animals. Whether it's Sadie who seems to be throwing up every other day or Grady who has been having accidents in his crate once a week, it seems that we are constantly cleaning up after these animals. And then there's Pat. I know that part of it isn't his fault and that by just being a guy, he will naturally do some things that I find disgusting. On Sunday, I watched him take off his socks, the same socks he had been wearing all day long, and roll them up into a ball. I assumed he was rolling them up and taking them right to the laundry basket so Grady wouldn't try to eat them. I watched him walk out of the office and turn left to walk into our bedroom rather than walking straight into the bathroom where the dirty clothes basket is located. He

Get in the kitchen and make me some: Crunchy Nacho Dogs & Homemade Crispy Fries

Epic fail. That's all there is to say. Okay, fine. I'll explain. The nacho dogs ( recipe here ) were a disaster from start to finish. Actually, I was doomed before I even started because as soon as I read the line, "a great recipe for kids to cook," all I could think about was screwing up a recipe that was so easy a "kid could do it." I didn't find it to be all that easy. Whether or not it should have been is another story. The first step was as simple as opening the croissants and getting them out of the packaging. I'm not going to lie. I always get nervous when I'm opening the biscuits and croissants packaging because I know it's going to "pop open" when you least expect it. Tonight I was like Will Ferrell as Buddy the Elf when he's turning the jack-in-the-box and nervously waiting for it to pop open. And just like the movie goes, when it didn't immediately pop open, I was convinced that it wasn't going to. I thought

What's your sign?

No, not that kind of sign (I'm a Leo, by the way). I am talking about street signs and I have seen some pretty random ones in the three years I've been commuting around the city of Cleveland. The sign that I have seen throughout the last week, placed on the busy highway I take home from work, takes the cake as the most random sign ever. It's a big orange sign located right before you drive under and overpass with the message,  "Clean Water Falling." Ideally this is the kind of sign you would like to see in an art gallery where you can stand there, stare at it, back up, tilt your head to the side and stare at it again trying to analyze what the heck it could possibly mean. Unfortunately, when you see this sign right as you're coming around a sharp curve (known as Dead Man's Curve) and trying to slow down from 60 MPH to 35, you don't really have time for this sort of analysis. Instead, I found myself frantically trying to close the sunroof on my car so

Selective Hearing

We're all guilty of it at some point or another - not always being the best listeners. One of the areas we focused on in communication studies is the art of listening. Some people might assume that listening and hearing are the same thing, but this is incorrect. Hearing refers to the physical act of sound entering your ears and doesn't require any action on your part whatsoever. Listening, however, refers to the act of taking the sounds that you hear and breaking them down so that you process and understand what you are hearing. Listening is something you must consciously do when you hear sounds. Why do I bring this up, you ask? There are certain times of year when Pat and I really struggle with our communication. It usually starts in late August/early September and lasts until the end of February. No, Pat doesn't develop ear infections during the winter months, hindering his ability to "hear." I'm referring to his inability to "listen" to me dur

My porcelain revelation

I have always given Pat a really hard time about how long he spends in the bathroom. Whenever he disappears for a half an hour (or more) I always know exactly where he is. I've asked him a lot of questions about why he (and most other men I've ever met) is in there so long. It's so foreign to me because I (and most women I know) am very quick in the bathroom. Get in and get out and get on with your day. That's the way I've always looked at it. Pat explained to me once that just because he's in the bathroom for a half an our (or more), doesn't mean that he's actually "taking care of business" the entire time. Once his business is done, he continues to read whatever magazine or newspaper he picked up. Seemed so foreign to me at the time. Why would you actually stay in there longer than you have to? It seemed foreign to me until today, when I had a porcelain revelation. When I went to the bathroom, I decided to pick up a magazine that came a mon

You want me to go WHERE?

I always feel bad in the morning when it's time for us to go to work and put Grady in his crate. From the time we got Grady last July until the first heavy snow in late December, I walked him every morning before work, rain or shine. It made it so much easier leaving him for the day knowing he had a chance to release some of his energy. By the time spring came, I had a new job, an earlier start time and a longer commute. Excuses, excuses, I know. Needless to say, the morning walks haven't continued since then. I know it would do Grady and I both some good if I started that morning routine again. And if I got up at 6 instead of 6:30, I could make it happen pretty easily. I guess I'm putting this out there as a way to motivate me to actually do it. I'm trying to hold myself accountable and thought maybe putting it in writing, for all to see, would help.  In the meantime, this is what I deal with each and every morning when it's time for Grady to go in his crate.

Get in the kitchen and make me some: Creamy Chicken ‘n Loaded Potatoes

Whip up an easy skillet dinner with a hearty combo of chicken, potatoes and veggies. Prep Time: 10 min Cook Time: 30 min Total Time: 45 min Makes: 4 servings 1 box (4.5 oz) Betty Crocker® loaded baked potatoes 1 1/4 cups boiling water 1 3/4 cups milk 2 tablespoons butter or margarine

Come closer, I cannot see you

Grady in his favorite spot Although there are so many things I can, and do, say about Grady's bad behaviors, he has some good qualities too. He is not really a "barker." Of course you'll hear the occasional barking when he sees people walking by the window, but we've been working really hard to correct this behavior because quite frankly, neither of us can stand it! But for the most part, you can leave him outside and he'll never make a sound or he'll sit in his favorite spot on the couch looking out the window, watching the "comings and goings" without making a peep. Lately, though, that hasn't been the case. It all started last week, one morning before work, when Grady started barking like crazy outside. Pat went to see what he was barking at and was shocked to find Grady standing in our driveway, barking like a maniac at our neighbor, Denny. If you knew Denny and knew his relationship with Grady, you would find this just as shocking