Sunday, July 18, 2010


So, did I ever tell you guys about the Death Blow Kiss Killer? The bad guy in one of my few recurring nightmares?

Well, I think I'm totally making progress with life's issues or something, because recently (I can't remember if it was last night or the night before. I was sleeping, ya know) I FINALLY KILLED THE DEATH BLOW KISS KILLER!!!

I'm not entirely sure what this means, though. Does it mean that I'm finally going to act out on my years of death threats to various friends and loved ones? If so, who will it be? I've threatened to kill SOOOOOO many people over the years. And also, which method will it be? My latest weapon of choice has been the knife, as in "I'll cutcha!" or "I'll knife ya!". But who knows, maybe I'll go old school, and it will be a stoning, or a spicing. (Yes, I said spicing. Let's just say, it was inspired by an Indian film I saw in college. I think Jean was a little disappointed she picked THAT weekend to come see me.)

ORRRRRRRRRRRRRR. Maybe I won't actually be killing anyone. Maybe I'll just finally be able to carry out my heretofore idle threats of literally, and physically punching/slapping/kicking someone. Because heaven knows, there are several people in my life who would deserve a good roundhouse kick to the throat.

ORRRRRRRRRRRRRR. Maybe it just means that I'll stop putting up with people's crap, or maybe develop a thicker skin, or start standing up for myself instead of allowing myself to be walked upon. Because, although I've doubted it til now, maybe you CAN stick up for yourself without being guilty of assault and battery. WHO KNEW?

I guess it doesn't really matter. The most important thing is that THE DEATH BLOW KISS KILLER HAS DIED!!! I just hope it stays that way. 'Cause those were some freaky nightmares.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Quiz Time

My picture looks like this because

a) I have started drinking beer. Lots and lots of beer.

b) Chuck Norris commanded my internal organs to expand. And they obeyed.

c) My Atkins Diet has gone horribly, horribly wrong.

d) I am 24 weeks pregnant.

If you guessed d, you are correct! Well done!

Now, lest you go thinking this is an announcement of the Good News Variety, please recall my former pledge to NEVER announce ANYTHING of the Good News Variety on this blog again.

Therefore, I offer the following:

We are not happy about this (yes we are). This was not planned (yes it was), and it was an unpleasant surprise to us both (no, it wasn't a surprise, nor was it unpleasant). We cried tears of angst and misery when we discovered my condition (no, no we didn't). We are not looking forward to the arrival of our new baby girl (yes we are), and we are not happy about the prospect of having two kids, instead of just one (yes we are). So, overall, this is a horrible turn of events (no it isn't) that has left us devastated (nope), depressed (nuh-uh), and debilitated (not even). Feel free to offer your condolences (or congratulations), but we likely won't respond (yes we will) because we are JUST. THAT. DEPRESSED (more like excited) about the whole darn situation.

Depressingly (Ecstatically) Yours,

Alyssa, Mike and Emma

Monday, July 5, 2010

How to Effectively Traumatize Your Child

Tonight, a local park very close to our house had a big fireworks show. With the location, we were thinking that we'd probably be able to see it all right from our driveway. So, about five minutes before show time we got Emma out of bed. Mike was reluctant, because it was hot out, and we weren't even sure we'd be able to see them. But I think he saw my excitement, saw how much I wanted to do this as a family, and gave me the green light to go get her. So, we got her out of bed and went out into the driveway. We saw a few other families camped out, so we felt pretty confident that our driveway would be a good place to set up chairs and get comfy. So, we did. We were trying to explain to Emma what we were doing, and told her she'd hear a big BOOM and then see lights. We got her saying "BOOM BOOM", and she was generally pretty happy. Here she is with Daddy waiting for the show to start. The squinty faces are a result of the pre-flash, which was insanely bright, given the fact that it was pretty much pitch black out.
And then the first boom. She didn't even see the light, just heard the boom. Instantly we heard a small shriek, and in a nano second she had covered her face with her hands and buried her face in Mike's chest. She was shaking like a leaf. We both tried to coax her out of the fetal position, encouraging her to look at the lights. But she wouldn't budge. She wasn't crying or screaming, and she didn't have her binky. She was just breathing really fast, and shaking. After about a minute, Mike handed her over to me thinking that maybe in the transfer she'd see some of the lights and get into the fireworks. But even as we moved her from him to me, she wouldn't pick up her head, or take her hands off her eyes. Or stop shaking. So I was just there holding her, and after just a few seconds, decided to take her back inside. When she heard me say that, I think she was relieved, because she looked up for a few seconds, kind of to see if I was being for real. However, when she looked up at me, it was with her hands still over her eyes, with her fingers just barely split open so she could see through them. I think she caught sight of the lights, but still wasn't thrilled. So, in we went. LUCKILY, the fireworks were perfectly located so that we could sit on the couch in our living room and look out the front window and see them. If you look closely, you can see Emma and I through the window. Emma sat with me for a few minutes, but I think she was looking for Protector Man, because she spent the rest of the fireworks like this. I would like to note that she continued to shake pretty much until the show was over.

When the show was over, Emma stood up Mike's lap and said, "GONE! YEAHHHHHH!"
And that pretty much sums it up.

Friday, July 2, 2010

On Paint

First, I am still boggled by a few things about our new house. For instance, is it worse that two owners previous to us, chose the paint colors and textures that they did? Or is it worse that the owners prior to us just kept those same colors and textures? Or is it worse that they kept those colors and textures, because they LIKED them?? *shudders*

My friend Molly came over this week for the first time, and she hadn't seen pictures of the house. When she walked into the bedroom, her reaction was

"Uhhhhhhh I'm assuming this is the before color??"

And then she kind of let out a little sigh of relief when I said yes. As Anna put it, the color and texture in the master bedroom reminds one of living inside a bruise. It's just not good.

So anyway, we've had, and STILL have, lots of work to do painting. Small potatoes compared to the old house, but still, annoying nonetheless. I've spent more hours this week taping and painting than I care to calculate. But as I was upstairs painting the trim in the spare bedroom, I couldn't help but be annoyed by the fact that the last people who painted that room felt the need to paint EVERYTHING a really nasty off-white/urine-yellow color. That doesn't really describe it well. Imagine this: the color is reminiscent of a wall that was once white, but that has spent the last 30 years housing a smoker who never once washed the walls. It is just a gross color.

So, this color was on the walls, the baseboard, the trim around both sets of closets and the door, the door and closet doors themselves, the hinges, the trim inside the closets, the window trim, the window casing, and so on and so forth. Soooooo much grossness to cover up.

And what's really traumatizing me is the amount of time it's taking to paint over this hideous colors in the SMALL spare bedroom. Because that means that painting our HUGE master bedroom that is covered in DARK PURPLE paint is going to be soooo. much. worse.

BUT. I would like to say that the new Behr primer and paint in one is soooooo worth the extra few bucks!!