because behaving is boring

Monthly Archives: January 2012

I was SO excited to find these!

I’m using them in a recipe I recently discovered.

To be continued…

Now that I have a grown up job I have to get up early. Like, 5:30 am early. I’m not a fan.


Image from Business Insider.

5:30 am: I am typically in the middle of a wonderful dream… Like, The Boyfriend is giving me control of the remote. He’s smiling at me, arm stretched out to hand over the clicker, saying “let’s watch what you want to watch”, and I am smiling back and reaching to grasp it. Just as the teeny tiny tippy-tips of my fingers come into contact with the shiny black plastic my alarm goes off, all “IT’S MORNING TIME! NO MORE SLEEP TIME!”

…No, that’s not quite right. My alarm isn’t so much cheerfully nudging me out of my happy coma-like sleep like a four year old on Christmas morning…It’s abusively screaming “HEY YOU LAZY SACK OF WORTHLESSNESS, IT’S TIME TO GET UP!” like I would imagine a Drill Sargent with a redwood tree up his ass would sound.

The BF calls my alarm clock the Angry Cricket. I think Homicidal Cricket is more like it.

Now, if I were a responsible grown-up type person I think at this point I would turn off my alarm, get out of bed and probably go work out to a Sweatin’ to the Oldies video or some such thing. I am not, however, very good at acting my chronological age. I hit snooze and burrow back under the covers for “just fifteen more minutes.” Within seconds I have returned to my coma-like state in my cocoon of covers.


Oh, it’s my alarm clock again. It sounds grouchier.

Once again, I sit up just long enough to hit snooze. Sometimes I even fall asleep still sitting up.


I really, really hate that alarm.

Usually by this point I decide that I do, in fact, need to get up. I turn my alarm off (this is what I call the Danger Zone because I’m quite likely to lie back down after turning it off) and most of the time I’m a good girl. I begrudgingly get out of bed and stumble into the living room to gather my things. Before leaving the bedroom I usually look one last time at the bed and at The BF, who has somehow managed to continue snoring through all of this. Typically, I look back just in time to see him sleepily scoot to my side of the bed to take advantage of the warm spot I just vacated.





So I’ve been noticing some things that I just don’t understand lately.

1. What’s with this whole “I don’t like it so I don’t want anyone else to have it” mentality a lot of people seem to have? Maybe I’m a moron, but if it doesn’t bother me I don’t care that other people do things I don’t necessarily agree with. I mean, I think shrimp is disgusting but I’m not going to gather all of the shrimp-haters and try to get it outlawed.


**Image borrowed from

2. Why is it that any time a picture is posted on the internet someone (or multiple someones, usually) is so quick to scream “SHOPPED!” but people still believe (and then repeat) everything they hear?

This has to be Photoshopped. That rumor about your ex having a three-headed baby? Totally real. Tell EVERYONE.

**Image from MA Family Institute

3. Raisins in cookies. That shit drives me nuts. You think you’re getting a warm, gooey, chocolatey treat…Then you bite into a raisin and your whole day is ruined. Heads up, those sneaky Brits like to call them currants. Don’t be fooled!

Delicious...or your worst nightmare?

**Image courtesy of

Last night, the Senate here in the great state of Indiana passed Right to Work. I know a lot of people out there probably thought “Hey! I can support that!” because who doesn’t want the right to work? Makes sense, right?

But it doesn’t. At all.

See, we all already have the “right to work”. We also currently have the right to enjoy things like mandatory break and lunch times, high safety and health standards,  fair wages… I mean, I don’t know anyone working in a sweatshop for $.13 an hour, do you?

No, because we don’t live in China.

Um, unless you actually do live in China. In that case I’m sorry.

There are a lot of people that support Right to Work and I honestly don’t think they understand the consequences we will ALL face if it passes the House.  These are typically the same people that use inflammatory, generalizing language when describing the horribly evil and awful unions.

I don’t know if people just don’t bother to read before forming opinions or what… Did you know that everyone here in the good ol’ US of A (um, those of us that bother to work for a living, anyway) benefits from unions?

I don’t know about everyone else, but I’d prefer to keep making what I already do, or perhaps get a raise. I certainly don’t want to end up making less… And I really like the fact that around 10:00 each morning I can get up from my desk for 15 minutes to get a coffee.

I really, really want every single one of you to go to this page and read what it says. Take some time to think about it. If you still disagree with me, that’s fine. I value freedom of speech just as much as I value my good working conditions.

If you’d prefer a more condensed version of the information, go here.


Hey, remember last year when I was nice enough to write up some handy tips for driving in crap weather?

Merry Christmas, here they are again!

Don’t drive like an asshole.

My favorite little girl on earth turned 1 on Sunday. I was certain it was a mistake because I swear she was just born yesterday, but her mother assured me it was true.

What does she know?

So, before I say anything else about the cake I do want to mention that I am employed again. Hooray! I got the job through a temp agency here in town and I’ll be the receptionist for a woodworking tools company for the next three months or so. Paychecks are neat.

Ok, the cake.

I offered to make this cake because I thought it could be a lot of fun… Miss Mally is in love with Mickey so Brette (her mother, my friend) and I looked at a few different pictures until I got a good idea of what she wanted.

I went through a lot of what The BF would call R&D (research and development)…

The cake itself was…well, a piece of cake. Sorry, couldn’t help it. In the top left of the picture you can see a few of my many attempts at getting Mickey heads just right…

There were some mishaps… I had to eat a couple. Rooty even got one. I iced the ones I liked the most with black decorator icing.

Ok, I realize they don’t look exactly like Mickey… But at this point I wasn’t even sure they’d make it on the cake.

R&D, folks. Tasty, tasty R&D.

I cut the cakes into smaller mini-cakes, stacked the layers and crumb-coated them, then put them both in the fridge. After the first coat set up I tried and tried and tried to get a smooth final layer of icing on them.

Guys, I just couldn’t do it.

I thought all was lost until I realized I had everything I needed to make marshmallow fondant.

And seriously, I don’t know why I’ve been against fondant for so long. This stuff is an absolute dream. I love it.

Side note: If you decide to make your own marshmallow fondant make sure to really grease up your hands, counter and rolling pin. A bench scraper is also great to have on hand because even if you do coat every surface with Crisco it still sticks on occasion.

After two days of work and much rolling and shaping and cursing I ended up with this:

Honestly, for my first attempt at working with layers and fondant…I’m pretty proud of how it turned out.

After destructo-baby got a hold of it, we ended up with this:

I’m not sure, but I think that’s a sign of a satisfied birthday girl.


I’ve been in a relationship for almost a year now, so I think it’s safe to say I’m an expert on all things love.


Anyway, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to truly love someone and what it takes to make a relationship work. To me, a relationship between two people (of any kind…friendship, romantic, whatever) will never be perfect. You can expect that the other person will occasionally annoy you, do things that upset you. It’s not always rainbows and unicorn farts, you know?  Of course you know. It’s just logical.

So why do people constantly set such ridiculously high expectations? For example: A friend and I were talking one day and she mentioned seeing a picture one of her friends posted on Facebook. The girl’s boyfriend had sent her flowers at work and she was excited to show them off…And understandably so. My friend was upset by this because her boyfriend has never sent flowers to her at work. She spent a good half an hour complaining about how she would love to get flowers and something about him apparently not caring about her. I stopped listening about halfway through the tirade because I was thinking about food.

It happens.

So once I realized she had stopped talking and was waiting for a response, I abandoned my thoughts of migas (YUM) and asked why she was so worked up about flowers. I mean, they’re nice for a couple of days but then they die.

“Well he must not care about me that much…I mean, in the movies…”

In the movies.

Romantic comedies. Romantic dramas.

I just can’t stand them.

Can we all agree that romantic movies are not a true representation of relationships?   I hate to burst anyone’s bubble here, but The Notebook ain’t real life.

Real life means that, after the honeymoon period is over things might get a little boring. Get up, go to work, have dinner, go to bed. Maybe on the weekends you’ll go to Home Depot for a new toilet plunger. Wheeeee! Eventually you have kids and your relationship changes because you’ve taken on a whole new kind of stress. You’ll get on each other’s nerves. You’ll get comfortable. You’ll fart in front of one another.

I realize if movies were written in this way no one would watch them. Hollywood has to fudge the details a bit to make things entertaining and that’s fine.

So maybe my problem isn’t with the movies so much as the people that expect life to unfold just like Sweet Home Alabama.

The next time your significant other belches in response to a question you ask him and then laughs hysterically…

The next time he has the audacity to leave the seat up…

The next time he stinks up the bathroom right before you have to get in the shower..

Don’t immediately wonder what George (How Do You Know) would have done differently. Remember, Paul Rudd had the benefit of a script and a lot of editing to appear so wonderful in that movie.

Instead, think about all of the good things your boyfriend/husband does. Remember how he goes out and starts your car so it’s nice and warm when you leave? How about how he helped you carry in groceries or offered to give the kids a bath so you could catch up on your favorite show?

It also helps to remember that you, my dear, are not perfect. I’d be willing to bet that you’ve done things that annoy him, too.

Let’s all agree that romantic movies are fine for entertainment but they aren’t supposed to be blue prints for real life. Relax and focus on the nice things in your relationship and maybe after a while the little annoying things won’t bother you so much.

And above everything, remember this:

You picked him.

Can we talk about all of this hyphenated ‘politically correct’ bullshit that’s been rampant lately?

I’m getting a bit tired of everyone being so damn sensitive about everything.

I mean, Hispanic-American this and African-American that… And we’re all expected to use these phrases now. Um, that means making my mouth form a bunch of extra syllables and I’m kinda lazy so… No thanks, I’ll pass.

I’ve  been filling out a lot of job applications lately and what really gets me is the question (that you don’t have to answer) that asks:

Are you:

Hispanic – American (of Hispanic origin)

White (Caucasian non-Hispanic)


And you select the one that best fits you.

I’m a little confused, because we have all of these hyphenated terms to describe everyone else but when it comes to me, well I’m just white. Where’s my hyphen?! I’m going to start selecting ‘other’. That way, it’s a surprise when I come in for the interview.

And what’s wrong with just being American? Everyone seems so quick to tell you that they’re Latin-American or German-American or Italian-American…


I typically have this conversation if I venture out to a bar on St. Patrick’s Day:

Guy half drunk on green beer: I’m Irish!

Me: So you’re here on vacation?

Guy: Well, Irish-American…

Me: So, when did you move here from Ireland?

Guy: Well, I’ve always lived here.

Me: You mean, like here as in this town, in this country? USA?

Guy: Uh, yeah.

Me: Oh. Well your parents…When did they move here?

Guy: Oh they’re from here, too.

Me: Have you ever been to Ireland?

Guy: No…But I really want to go there someday!

Me: I hate to break it to you dude, but you’re American.

Guy: Nuh-uh! My great-great-great-great-great-grandparents on my Dad’s side came here from Ireland in the 1550s!

At this point, I just have to walk away because my head is going to explode. It’s fine if you want to tell someone about your Irish heritage but I just don’t think you can claim to be Irish-American if you’ve never even been to Ireland.

I think from now on I’m going to insist that everyone refer to me as Caucasian-American-of-Possible-Irish-And-Maybe-Some-Scottish-Heritage.

Because apparently, just referring to someone as white or black the way you’d call the sky blue (in other words, because it is blue), or simply being American, is wildly offensive.

Well I certainly won’t stand for it anymore.

The stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 5,100 times in 2011. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 4 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Did you guys know it’s 2012 now? I know a lot of people haven’t really been talking about it lately but yeah, new year. There was a holiday for it and everything!

The Boyfriend and I spend New Years Eve eating Chinese takeout and watching IU beat Ohio State (woohoo!). After the game there was a lot of aimless channel flipping (the BF) and a few games of solitaire (me) before we watched the ball drop.

If we aren’t the wildest and craziest party people you know… well, if we are you might need to reevaluate your definition of the word party.

It was nice to wake up New Years Day with no hangover… I tried to talk The Boyfriend into going out for breakfast to look down on all of the sinners but he wanted to stay home in his pajamas a little longer. We eventually did go to the grocery store to pick up stuff for dinner, and we ended up with brats and sauerkraut. The BF had this theory that if regular cooked cabbage was supposed to be lucky, sauerkraut would be super lucky because he cooked it twice. Once in a saucepan with some green peppers and onions and then again in the crockpot with the brats.

I don’t know about super lucky, but it was super good.

To round our our lucky (and gassy!) meal we had baked beans and raw broccoli with dip. Toot!

We spent the day being incredibly lazy…watching football here and there along with a couple of movies. At one point I dropped a quarter down the back of The BF’s pants while he was bent over trying to get the antenna to work and he decided I was mean. At least, I think that’s what he said…I was on the floor in a fit of giggles and couldn’t quite hear him.

All in all, it was a wonderful weekend and a fantastic start to 2012.

A lot of people on Twitter and Facebook were saying things like “good riddance to 2011!” and part of me wants to side with them. 2011 was a rough year for me and my family and I was happy to see it go away.

Then again…

Some really wonderful things happened in 2011. My Dad’s surgeries, for one thing. Sure, they could easily fall into the ‘not fun’ column because I definitely don’t enjoy seeing my Dad in pain but… I have to put them into the ‘blessing’ column just for the simple fact that my Dad is still here. The way it all played out was honestly better than I could have asked for considering that the blockages in his heart were discovered  through tests and not after a heart attack. The surgeries were a bit of a setback in the short term but in the long term…well, who knows? There might not have been a long term had they not happened.

In 2011 I found myself unemployed and struggling to keep my head above water. There were times when I just wanted to give up and I struggled with a bout of depression that made me less than fun to be around. Getting out of bed became a challenge and even close to impossible some days… And I can’t lie, I’m still working through it. Something happened around Christmas that sucked a lot, but it also gave me the swift kick in the ass that I needed to make me want to fight through the feelings of hopelessness that had been consuming me for months. I’m still unemployed, and it still sucks, but I’m trying to have a more positive outlook about things.

In February of 2011 The BF came wandering into my life and turned everything upside down. I can’t believe it will soon be a year that we’ve been together. Will we eventually get married and churn out a litter of rugrats? I don’t know… But I know that I am thankful for every day that he’s in my life.

I hope you all had a safe and happy New Years…And I hope that while you look back on 2011 you choose to focus on the positive things that happened rather than the negative. I know it’s not easy sometimes but it might make you feel a little better about life as a whole.

Here’s to a fresh start and an upcoming year of blessings and happiness for us all.

Happy (belated) New Year, readers!

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