It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left ya

I'm still here. I swear.

Where have I been? Let's see.

A little over a week ago I went back to Utah and went to the water park with the nephews. That's not the only reason I went - but in their minds it was. I had fun.

Monday I went to Sacramento and then came home. What a hole. Seriously. I just... I don't know what else to say about it.

On Friday I'm going to Canada. I figured what better place to celebrate our Nation's independence then across the border? They have wunderbars. Plus, all packaged food there has a french translation. It makes those famous Canadian ketchup chips c'est fancy, no?

I want to be pregnant. But let's get one thing straight: I do NOT want to have a baby. I just want to feel what it's like to be pregnant but not actually have a kid. I'm not ready for that yet. I want my own tight belly that keeps my body furnace nice and toasty.

Don't worry, I'm not going to do it. I'm not that stupid.

I want sun-kissed highlights, but I want to do them myself.

And lastly, I want me time to just be me. Ahem, Ricky. Quit coming in here and asking me questions.

Can Jersey Shore start already?

Goooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllll!!

Summer is here and there is NOTHING to watch. Seriously. I have resorted to streaming the bachelorette while exercising. I hate that show. It is a veritable bag of douche-ery. But yet I still do it.

I even got Dear John from the redbox last week which I guess isn't that surprising seeing as how I watch almost everything that looks terrible. But it was SO bad. Like bleeding eyes bad. And the story made me angry - like literally angry. I threw a freshly matched pile of socks at Ricky to emphasis my rage. Why would you EVER marry someone just because you felt sorry for them? Especially when there is HOT soldier pinning after you halfway around the world? Ugh. It disgusted me and is now my second most hated movie after A walk to remember starring my least favorite person ever, Mandy Moore. Seriously. Sure kids, get married just so you can have sex and not feel guilty about it before you die. It sounds like the human version of a story my friend Stasy once told me; her sister lets her animals have a sexual escapade before she fixes them. Really? Really.

My only saving grace right now is the World Cup. I love it. Love, love, love it. It is the only time I read the sports section of the paper or watch ESPN (if I had cable). I love a dose of healthy competition amongst countries where it is ok to occasionally yell slurs of all kinds at the tv. Soccer games have an energy to them that no other sport comes close to possessing. Sure, hockey fans throw octopus on the ice, baseball has streakers and basketball has celebrities courtside but soccer has stabbings, riots and deadly trampling. I kind of imagine that's what the Roman arenas felt like when the gladiators were fighting to the death but with less air horns.

Plus, soccer games have the added bonus of WAG's or wives and girlfriends of the players. They are just as entertaining as the games, if not more. Starring my favorite WAG of all time: Victoria Beckham of course. Sometimes when they show pictures of the WAG's at the games I find myself wondering, was there a confusion over what type of venue they thought they were going too or did they just come straight from a non-stop night of clubbing? If they aren't careful they could encounter some Waglash (no, I didn't make that up).

Did anyone see the U.S. vs. England today? Am I alone in my World Cup loving?

Rainy days and weekdays....and weekends

I had a touch of the melancholies tonight. It's been raining here for over a week and it's beginning to get to me. I made it through all the rainstorms of the winter without experiencing very much of the gloominess everyone said would plague me. It was winter, the weather is bad most places. As long as it didn't snow I was happy.

But it's JUNE for crying out loud! And the rain outside today wasn't a pleasant pitter patter against my roof, it was sheets of rain coming down the windows which made it seem like I was living in a constant car wash but without all the fun brushing action and noises that come with that.

And it's not like when it snows in the mountains in June in Utah. C'mon, who cares? It's in the MOUNTAINS people, not your back yard.

And the weird thing is we hardly ever have thunder and lightning like a normal rainstorm. The rain here prefers to be a little bit of a wall flower amongst natures storms I guess.

It brings back memories of being little and sitting on the porch with my dad when there were big thunder storms. We would just sit there and smell the rain and count one-one thousand, two-one thousand, etc. every time we would see lightning until the thunder hit figuring out how far away it was. It always freaked me out a little bit when I didn't get past one-one..... And my dad would tell me what his mother used to tell him; the thunder was just the sound of the angels in heaven playing with bowling balls and when the balls collided they made a huge thunder down below. Which is a WAY better story than vampires playing baseball. Honestly, why baseball? Why not something cool like jai alai?

I guess what I'm trying to say is I need some Vitamin D and I miss you.

Dress for Less

I feel like every time I go to a Ross I come home and exclaim "now THAT'S the worst Ross I've ever been to". I've said this twice in the last month. And it seems that they get progressively worse over time but yet, I still go.

But this last one truly may have been the WORST. I went there as a split second decision while out shopping yesterday. I had been searching high and low for curtains for our living room that are patterned and not going to blow up my wallet. But I just couldn't find the right ones.

So I had this brilliant idea (if I do say so myself) to look at the table clothes and see if something suited my fancy. Well they did indeed suit my fancy and then some. I found the cutest fabric and in the perfect size. All I had to do was sew the top edge over a couple of inches to make a loop for the curtain rod and Voila! Curtains!

But it was what I had to go through to get them that make them truly great. The Ross was PACKED that day my friends. Packed. With screaming children and smelly people. People from all over God's green earth were hunting the aisles for bargains - some so deep in search that they let the toy section be their nanny. Children were running around everywhere opening all the boxes and dragging everything across the floor. And where were the employees you might ask? Puh-lease. This is Ross. They don't do that.

So there I was trying to dodge the dodgey and just get to the tablecloths when it began. EVERY aisle I turned down produced someone with a hacking cough or uncontrollable sneezing attack. I could not escape it. I felt the germs showering down around me crowding into my nostrils. And just like an airplane, I new those confined spaces were going to get me. I was going to get whatever they had.

I felt just like this...