Talk to me...

COTD.

Conversation. Of. The. Day.

Katie's Version.

Scene: (Wal Mart parking lot. Vehicle- Toyota Tacoma that is most definitely named Taki.


They have not left yet. Shopping bags litter the backseat, nasty people walking around with cheap cammo and Tennesseean accents. It's dark outside. A lone box of brand new fruit gushers sits between them. )

Katie: Here hunny, here's the gushers you had to have. (Lovingly opens a package for him. Husband takes said gusher package and noms one gusher down.)

Husband: Thanks hunny, these are so good. (Extends package towards Katie.) Would you like one?

(Katie takes one gusher because that's what everyone in the world know's you're supposed to do when you're sharing gushers.)

Katie: Thanks hunny.

(Husband empties entire package into mouth and hands it empty back to his starving wife, Katie, who was barely hanging on to dear life from malnutrition.)

Katie: HUNNY! Didn't anybody teach you how to eat gushers? One at a time! They're supposed to explode in your mouth! You're supposed to enjoy them.

Husband: dflkjo adkfo nkwelrod (translation- oh, they're exploding.)

_________________________________

COTD

Conversation. Of. The. Day.

Husband's Version.

Check it out...this is how it really went down. We went to Wal-Mart to get a few food items...but of course while we're there Katie grabs random things from the shelves, like baby food, or some new ingredient she suddenly remembered having a coupon for or reading in some recipe online. Anyway, she had grabbed half a dozen things...so I said to myself, "self...you work hard to bring home the income for this humble family, why don't you grab something off the shelf too?" So what was in front of me at the time?...that's right, Gushers.

Back to the truck, which is NOT named Taki, (who names their truck after a Greek dude in a chick flick?)



My dear, sweet wife pulls out the box of Gushers as I'm pulling out of the parking lot and hands them to me (which is obviously a sign that the little bag is for me, otherwise she would have taken a few before giving me the bag.) Despite this, I still offer her some...and she took a Gusher. Now I mentally commended her for sticking to her healthy diet and only indulging a little. So, naturally, I want to help my wife and decide the best thing I can do is remove any further temptation...so down goes the rest of the bag....and yes, I would have slowly enjoyed them had I not been driving down the most dangerous street in Clarksville with young Privates on their crotch rockets flying by and old hicks weaving back and forth between lanes in their rusted-out Chevy's that are billowing black smoke.

I just get so angry!

....is the new global landscape of our lives.

It was a BIG moment for me when I realized that I have successfully transferred my unhealthy addiction to Angry Birds to my husband!

It's true, he's a believer. (Chorus of applause to Husband for giving in!) Now, when I'm really stumped or angry at a level I pass it on to him and say, 'Husband, I can't get 3 stars. Save my maidenly honor and beat this level for me.' And he always does, because he's at times more stubborn than I am, my knight-in-shining-pig-killer

You may be wearing these question marks above your head yourself, inquiring, 'What's this madness?'

WELL, let me summarize for you.


It's a completely free, completely pointless game I play on my Droid that involves hurtling birds to kill the pigs. That's it. Birds killing pigs. It's what ties Jordan and I together as I curl up next to him after we say prayer together at night and teach him the best way to throw those angry birds and use their tricks to his advantage.

Yes, Daniel-sahn. You learn quickly.

The pigs stole the birds eggs (hence the picture) and the birds are angry. So they break down the structures around the pigs to kill them. You are on the bird's side because the pigs have an evil laugh. There is something extremely satisfying about the destruction and explosions the birds can, if you are talented, leave in their wake. No really. Try it on a day you're really riled about something.

But also be aware that this game also gives me stress. Sometimes I have to put it down because I get so angry.

To those who have never played, to you I cannot explain.

They have 3 different games with like 80,000 different levels. My personal favorite:

It's Christmastime with Angry Birds! It's fun because the snow crumples beneath the deathly blow of the birds and everything falls into chaos and pigs die. Then I rack up points. Then I congratulate myself on being master of the universe when I get 3 stars.

I'm not sure what cultivates the Christmas Spirit more than this game. They also have Easter, Moon Festival and like a bajillion others like Angry Birds Rio which I uninstalled from my phone because it wanted to track my phone calls and hijack my life.

To put this in perspective, we got my grandma an iPad. She plays Angry Birds. Alot. Ok, right here she's playing Bejeweled but she still plays with The Birds.

If you're not playing, and you know my grandma is, then maybe I'm trying to tell you something....

Friday Night Lights

Most Friday nights with J and I involve working out, dinner, a thriller/war/alieninvasion/western/jimhensonmuppets/psychoneurotickiller kind of movie and then going to bed. Occasionally we'll order Applebee's/Chili's/Olive Garden/Papa Murphy's to go (strictly To-Go. We don't mess around with 'crowds' when it comes to food) and chow down, but we like to reserve those for weekday events.

A lot of the time I have random nightmares afterwards, like last night, when I dreamed I killed a man and was then shunned from my family after watching 3:10 to Yuma. (They are SO not supportive with murders anymore.)

Husband didn't seem to mind when I woke up and informed him that we now had to run and hide for the rest of our lives because in the dream I had escaped prison with the help of some guys off of the TV show The Unit. I think he was up for the adventure, and it's always good to know he's willing to work through issues in our relationship.

Of course, his dreams typically involve shooting people as well, but he's normally killing the bad guys invading our house while we're sleeping and defending my fragile virtue instead of running from the law like his rebel wife (I don't even know why I killed the guy). He even does it wearing this uniform. He's the best. Sure love him!

Of course, he gallantly offers to let me pick whatever movie I want, chick flicks included (although there's always some tone of nervousness in his voice when those are brought up). When we were first dating, oh-so-long-ago, I forced him into my Big Fat Greek Wedding for purely selfish reasons- I quote that movie incessantly. He did well, infact, we had our first make out session to the credits. But let's face it, watching sappyromancegirlpower movies just isn't the same with a guy.

Try watching Tangled with a mega athlete soldier West Point grad who has an off day when he runs anything greater than a 5:50 mile. It sort of loses the sparkle and giggle.

Anyway, last weekend.

After work I lovingly gathered up some goodies from home and skipped on down to post in the Jeep. J had staff duty (aka babysitting) all day/night on Friday. We scarfed down sushi, kashi crackers, powerade, Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia Fro Yo, salad, hummus, pita chips and some nectarines and/or Dove Peanut Butter bar. Then we snuggled up on the superbly comfortable couch made of real fake pleather. (Martha Stewart would be proud of that cardboard box holding the laptop.)



And proceeded to watch one of the world's weirdest movies ever. (Keanu Reeves, what happened to you?!)

Then I went home by my lonely self, terrified that some demon was going to drop down from the nearest light pole as I drove past, trembling in the front seat. Or awaiting an evil female Gabriel to be sitting on my couch when I walked in the townhouse and I would have to fight sans frying pan. Fortunately, there were none of these things.

So instead I watched a Tyler Perry movie and then went to bed.

That's pretty much how our dates go around here, even when he is home and not on duty. At least our fridays. We have really adventurous Saturdays, but Friday around here is pretty lame. And we like it like that.

Contest!!

Best caption wins an incredible prize.

No truly, I'll mail you a prize.

Place it by Halloween. Captions limited to 3 per person, no purchase necessary. See store for details.

Adventure: Dunbar.

Husband and I had been frantically busy one Saturday doing chores, running errands, working out, saving small children in Africa and donating loads of clothes and money to charitable organizations when we decided to take a break from our demanding, hectic schedule and check out a local 'touristy site' called Dunbar Cave.

Ok, I lied a little. It was 6 or so and we had only just changed out of our pajamas, finished our 3rd movie and our Olive Garden order was going to take 20 minutes before it we could pick it up, so we were just wasting time.

However, I was glad we finally went, because I see signs for it everywhere and was getting annoyed that I still hadn't been. Now, by default and obligation, I have to go back and run the trails.

In fact, I'll go tomorrow.

Sometimes when I'm running around places like this I stop and think, 'Geez, where am I?' Not because I'm lost (that never happens. Ever. I've never driven the wrong way for 25 minutes before realizing it wasn't going to loop back to where I thought it should. No one consults my opinion on roadway management...) but because it's so green. We 'westerners' don't quite understand what all of this is.

I've stopped putting out buckets on the driveway when it rains, though.

Also, I did not stand in front of here and think of Pride and Prejudice. Or Mr. Darcy diving into his pond. Or Emma. Which means I definitely did not stand there somewhat dumbly waiting for a carriage and horse to drive across the bridge with Elizabeth inside, hearing violin music in my head. So naturally there was no idea in my head of walking through the countryside and going back home to a massive English estate with a library...

Good thing I'm not so girly as that.

Dunbar Cave seems somewhat anti-climatic in pictures, but it was a pretty little place (not counting in the serial killer murders that happened there). That may have been because it was the first taste of fresh air we'd had in awhile, but that doesn't matter.

Regardless of how it looks, I can promise he isn't peeing on the sign.

I think it is 8.1 miles long. We didn't get to go inside, it was barred.

Maybe tomorrow. (Yeah right. Like I'd go into a damp, dark, enclosed area by myself.)

And so we begin.

If you leave a comment that remotely resembles the phraseology 'took you long enough,' then you will not be a freend on my blogroll, ok?

Although there's so many right now on it, I'll squeeze you in should you desire to be linked to me forever. Which you do.

Technically, it's 'our' blog (chorus of ahh, how cute!) but let's face it, we all know Husband could care less. In fact, it may more or less just be a platform for me to spout off on tirades but I feel like it's the right thing to do to link him into it somewhere. I've toyed with the idea of waiting to see how long it takes for him to notice it. I'm typing it up next to him right now in fact, and have been for a long time. WIth no signs of recognition I'm confident I'll be able to get away with a lot for a long time.

Don't worry, I'm not going to turn this into an Army Wife blog. (Not that those are bad...I just reserve my opinion on them.) In fact, I'll try and not mention the military as much as possible. It pervades our life, so the blog may be a new sacred cow for me.