We're Basically Going to Win an Oscar.

I care about the royal wedding.

Matt doesn't.

Fortunately, he's had the NFL draft to keep him company while I enjoy the royal wedding festivities.

And, also, fortunately for me, he's willing to do dramatic interpretations of scenes from Lifetime movies.

I only hope Wills will be so great a husband.

For the Kids.

 Mitch gets so excited when Aunt Cassie arrives.

So, tonight we were totes* just hanging out with Cassie and talking and getting ready to make the most delicious chicken quesadillas that have ever been made in the history of planet earth, and there was a knock at the door.

And I thought it might be someone trying to sell us a security system, or trying to get us to pay them to mow  our lawn, or trying to get us to help them pay for their mother's medicine**  But it wasn't.  It was just two kids,  looking all cute and wearing their school uniforms, selling the WORLD'S FINEST chocolate.

Someone once told me that if a kid is selling something for a fundraiser, and you can afford it, you buy it.  I kind of (okay, totes) bought into that idea.***  So when I saw these kids and their fine chocolate, I hollered for Matt to give me a dollar.  And we bought our candy bar and the kids smiled and were on their merry way.

And then Matt noticed that the WORLD'S FINEST chocolate bars had buy-one-get-one-free Chick-Fil-A chicken sandwich coupons on them.****  And I, promptly, yell/whispered for the kids to come back, and I yell/yelled for Matt to give me five dollars.

That is some mighty fine chocolate.

And now I have six chocolate bars and six chicken sandwiches for the low, low price of $6.

Anyone want to come over for a fancy dinner?






*Matt totes turned me on to this version of the word totally, and I totes love it.  It may seem idiotic.  I don't care.


**There's forty dollars that we'll never see again.  Shoot.  That's a story for another time, mostly because it reveals what dumbasses Matt and I are.


***Puns really aren't that funny, are they?


****No, I did not allow my students to sell these same candy bars in class so long as they gave me their coupons (as long as they didn't want them for themselves).  Only a morally corrupt person would do such a thing.

Vacation Part Deux

So, for the second half of spring break, I flew from the ABQ to D.C. where Caitie picked me up from the airport.  It was great being able to hang out with her, even for an hour.*

And after we ate several pounds of pot stickers and Oreo crazy dessert at Friday's, Caitie took me back to Matt's parents' house.  Then I realized, at 1:30 a.m., that I don't know the garage code, and that I didn't have my keys.  So Caitie and I stood outside my in-laws' house like fools for like twenty minutes while I tried every imaginable code I could think of to get into the garage.  Finally, I just called and had to wake Matt's dad up.  And I felt like quite the a-hole.

Shoot.

But all was well only hours later because I arrived along with Matt's mom (after visiting Wegman's, a heaven on earth) at their lake house.

Now, I've already talked about the lake house a number of times.  This particular trip revolved around polishing silver, eating brownies, and flipping the TV channels back and forth between HGTV and news coverage of the upcoming royal nuptials.***

Because the lake house is so chill and so relaxing, there's not usually too much to share about visiting.  It's beautiful and peaceful and you never want to leave.  And you might think that because the air is so warm that the water is also warm.  Nope.  It's not.  You might discover that after foolishly jumping in without even having dipped your feet out to test the waters.  And then you might get hypothermia and die.  Or at minimum scream, swim faster than you ever have in your life (which is a bit of a challenge because of frozen limbs), and then spend the rest of the afternoon trying to trick other people to do the same.  "Oh, it's basically like a bathtub."

One of the best parts of visiting the lake is going on sunset boat rides.  Matt's dad is a longtime lover of sunsets, and seems to be at his happiest when he's on his boat watching the sun go down.  I've got to admit, he's on to something.
 

Oh yeah, and there was lots of grilling, because Matt is the grill master who travels up and down the East Coast demonstrating his mad skillz.

Grilled wings. . .mmmmmmmmmmm. 

Well, I'd share more, but I have to go because Matt is trying to make me watch the William & Kate movie on Lifetime.  That's really a thing.


*Um, you might remember that Caitie was the other participant in the fattest of the fat contests.  Recently, a friend asked me about the "fat offs" that my friend and I used to have, wondering if we still made gluttonous trips to Golden Corral.  "No," I replied, "We're both on Weight Watchers now."  Surprise, surprise.**


**It should also be noted that Caitie is much better at Weight Watchers than I am.


***Matt is so into the royal wedding that it's not even funny.  It's all I can do to keep him from calling out of work on both Thursday and Friday, making tea and crumpets, and speaking in a British accent.  If we were people of greater means, I am confident that he would be in England right now, draped in the British flag whilst stalking Will and Kate.****


****Also, Matt wants me to tell the internet that he is not into the royal wedding but at all.  He just said that in a British accent.

Back from the ABQ!

Well, we're finally home.  After ten days, five airports, one bajillion calories, and just as many laughs, I'm back here watching Jeopardy! with Matt while Mitch licks a bowl that once held macaroni and cheese.  Ahhhh. . .

Now, it'd been decades since I last visited Albuquerque.  The last time I was there, Mario 3 had just come out, the New Kids topped the charts, Bush I was president, and my sister was seven years away from gracing the world with her presence.  Normally I would be a little morose at this time, having just left my grandparents without knowing when I'd see them again.  But I'm not this time, because in about a week they'll be moving to Florida where they'll only be about 3 hours away from us!  Shoot yeah!

Our visit was just lovely.  It was nice to get to talk to my grandma and grandpa, to listen to their stories, to help them cook and clean and pack.  I've never had the opportunity to enjoy that much one-on-one time with them, and I'm really grateful to have had this time with them.

Here's a little bit of what it looked like, hanging out with Carol and Bruce in the ABQ.

Grandpa loved his new red suspenders. 

 Grandma's favorite farmer's market.  

 Edible loot.

 Sassy suitcase of Grandma's.

 We didn't cook any meth, but maybe Grandma and Grandpa's neighbors were?

Ouch!

Baby Book Party!

I'm generally not one for themed parties.  Usually I just want some good food and some tasty beverages that make my legs tingle and I'm set.  Sure, tissue pom-poms are cute, and the themed parties look fantastic in pictures and whatnot, but it's just not my thing.  Probably because I'm cheap.  And lazy.  Oh well.

But during my cross-country travels this last week, I read about this book-themed baby shower in April's Martha Stewart Living.  And I just loved it!  Everything was so pretty, and most of the decorations seemed to have a practical purpose as well.  I was especially drawn to these book labels and invitations (that you can totally download on Martha's site!).

 [source]

Aren't they fantastic?  Oh, and again, don't go getting all excited thinking that I'm growing a spawn in my uterus.  I'm not.

But if I keep making my sexy face at Matt, maybe it'll happen one day.

How could he resist these bedroom eyes?

"Ode to the Cadbury Creme Egg"

Last week I sent Shecky a link to this recipe for Cadbury Creme Egg brownies. (Which may or may not be considered sabotage under the official, very strict rules and regulations for Operation: Skinny Unicorn.  Shoot.)

[source]

Only minutes later, I received an email that included this poem.  The poem itself is, as you'll see, already a literary masterpiece.  But the thing that I like most about it is when I think about Shecky sitting in her cubicle, wearing some power suit and being all professional and whatnot, giggling because she's actually writing a poem about her favorite candy.

So, on this fine Easter Sunday (He is RISEN! Praise the LORD!), I share with you Shecky's "Ode to the Cadbury Creme Egg."

Certainly delicious

Amazingly Awesome

Duh, like the best food ever

Best idea in the history of the world

U should really try one

R you kidding me that you don’t like them?

Y are they so freaking tasty?

Could I love them anymore?

Ridiculously addictive

Eggcellent (haha, that’s funny, right?)

A new addition to the food groups

Mmmnnn, yum yum yum

Earth Shatteringly good

Good for you (right?)

God love’em!!!

May your Sunday be filled with too much sugar and too much fun!  Moderation is for sissies.

I Forked Up.

Oh man, I'm sorry we haven't been blogging too much.  I'm sure that your life has felt empty and sad without your [almost] daily dose of M Cubed.  Sorry about that.

The good news is that I have lots of stuff to share with you in the coming weeks.  The bad news is that I don't feel like doing it right now.  But while Matt and his mom read their books and I watch some HGTV while breathing in fresh lake air (which is known to have healing properties), I need to share something with you right quick.

First you need to know that Matt's mom's best friend Kim (mother of Audrey) loaded me up with lots of exciting gifts a few days ago.  One of the things was a lot of fancypants silver.  You know, like the kind of silver where there is a separate fork for everything (a.k.a., silver that I love but don't really understand), the kind where you hold your pinky finger out while using each individual piece.*

And one of the pieces is this, the shrimp fork (or at least that's what I'm told).

And I love love LOVE this fork.

But there's a slight problem.  I hate hate HATE shrimp.

So I've been trying to think of ways to use my fork without having to eat shrimp or reveal to the rest of the world that I completely lack sophistication.

Head scratcher?  Kid stabber?  Gardening tool?  Hmmmmmmm.  Nah.

Oh, wait!  I've got it!

Hair holder-upper/self-defense device.

This way, I still don't have to eat any shrimp.  And, no, it's not going to trick people into believing that I am sophisticated, but I wasn't going to have much luck in that department anyhow.

But it doesn't matter.

Because I'll tell you one thing right now: should an attacker try to attack me, he (or she, I suppose) better get used to the feeling of a shrimp fork in the eye.


*Also the kind of silver that reminds Matt of royalty, which then gets him talking about the royal wedding.  He's all, "it's magical" this and "a real-life fairytale" that.  

Look Familiar?

Recognize this place?

The first person to get it right wins a shiny prize.  

Oh, What Happened?

Okay, so I have a quick minute here to share something kind of fantastic with you.  Grandma and I have a big list of errands to tackle on my last full day in the ABQ (I mean, I haven't even met a meth cooker yet), so I can't share too much right now.

BUT!  I was just showing her how to use the scanner (why are scanners so awesome?) and we used this as our first picture.

Oh yes, that's me and my kid brother Jordan circa 1985.  And it makes me very, very happy.  I don't think kids get much cuter than Jordan was.

But time has been cruel, hasn't it?

Shoooooot.

The ABQ So Far. . .

So, I've been here in Albuquerque since Saturday night.  After a turbulent couple of plane rides (seriously, I had my barf bag ready to go) that included free wine and many a honey-roasted peanut, I finally made it.

 Coming in for landing near the Sandia Mountains.

The only bad thing about arriving in Albuquerque was that I had to bid adieu to my two plane buddies, Vincent the estate lawyer and Steve the science teacher.  If you're in the last group to board the plane and you must sit between two strangers, well, it doesn't get much better than a 61-year old lover of tech gadgets who listens to Slate podcasts and a fellow teacher who bumps around the country in his Volkswagon camper during breaks from school.

From left: Vincent, a very swollen Mandy (I look like a tick!), and Steve.

Since being here I've eaten about seven times as much as a normal human should, but I've somehow avoided becoming too drunk and obnoxious.

This sandwich was much larger and much more delicious than I anticipated.

I drove a brand new car.

Uncle Greg's new ride.

And I learned to make Grandma's Famous Corn Fritters (recipe coming soon). 

I met a woman named Punkin (not the one from Flavor of Love).

And I've had lots of time to relax with my grandparents, and learn more about their lives and to talk and chat and kvetch and laugh.  It's been pretty swell, if I do say so myself.

Oh, and the altitude is killing me a wee bit.  Apparently, because Albuquerque is 6,000 feet above sea level, it's a little tough to breathe for us sea-level dwellers.  So I've been a little tired.  Actually, it could be the altitude, or it could be the fact that I'm basically a sloth.  Shoot.

Oh, also, I packed kind of haphazardly because I might have consumed too much wine on Friday night.  And in my frenzied Saturday morning packing, I forgot to bring my anti-frizz hair stuff.  I figured I'd just buy some at a store once I arrived.  But--BUT!--I don't have to, because Albuquerque has like zero percent humidity.  So I'll basically have soft Pantene-commerical movie star hair for the duration of the visit.  Shoot yeah!

Side note:

I made Grandma and Grandpa take the Myers Brigg personality test.  Grandma is an ESFJ, and Grandpa is an ESTJ.  Basically, they're just one letter away from being the same person!  I am an ENTJ, which means that I'm just one letter away from being him, and it's not all that surprising.  I mean, we even have matching shoes.

Oh, and I'm not sure where to fit this in, but was Granpa a looker or what?  (He's the one in the middle.)

Well, we're off for more sightseeing and eating and shopping.  Hope you're enjoying your Monday!

Let's Blow This Popsicle Stand!

Mmmmmmmmmmm. . .popsicles.

Well, folks, I'm off to the ABQ.  I'll be chillaxin' and exploring the southwest with Grandma Carol and Grandpa B for a bit, and I'm sure there'll be much to discuss upon my return.

I'm a little distraught because I won't be seeing this face for 10 days.

Or this one for five.

But absence makes the heart grow fonder, and I'm already looking forward to reuniting with them.

So, anyway, I may or may not be blogging during my trip, and I was going to leave you with some funny posts all scheduled, but instead I drank a lot of wine and fell asleep.  Oh well.

Happy week to you!

SPRING BREAK WOO HOO!

When he makes this face, how can I not take him for a walk?

Question: Is it okay to drink a glass of wine while taking the dog for a walk?


Answer: Yes and no.


Okay, so it's SPRING BREAK WOO HOO!*

And it's been a tough week at school, so about 3 minutes after getting home I poured myself a glass of wine. But, you know, nobody wants to be the loser who is too drunk and then passes out at 8:00, so I was all determined to pace myself.

And then I took the dog for a walk, and decided that because it was such a beautiful day, and because spring break has finally come, a glass of wine would be a fine accompaniment to the walk.

Mmmmm hmmmmm.

A glass of wine would be nice, but three glasses of wine would be awesome.  So I milked the rest of my box of wine** into a lime green plastic tumbler and set off for a walk with the dog to the park.  Man oh man it was fun!  We met new people and ran and smelled things and barked at the Halloween balloons that are still hanging in the power lines.  (Well, one of us did.  The other just stumbled about.)

During this walk I fell in love with Savannah all over again.  I admired our cute little neighborhood and talked to the old guys walking toward the Sand Gnats stadium with Solo cups full of what I can only imagine was another tasty beverage.  There were little green lizards scampering about, and the Spanish moss*** hung in the most romantic way.  I couldn't help but to think to myself, "How could I ever live anywhere but here?"****

It might've been the booze.  You know, just enough wine to give me the idea of knocking on the door of my favorite neighborhood house to compliment the owners on their decision to paint the shutters purple, but not quite enough wine to drive me to actually knock.

Anyway, I forget where I was going with this whole post.  Now I'm just sitting around listening to Adele (because Entertainment Weekly keeps telling me to) and smelling the ribs that are in the oven.  And drinking a glass of water because Matt insists that I do so.

Happy weekend to you!  I hope you're also on SPRING BREAK WOO HOO!



*Bee-tee-dub, remember when you were a kid and you were excited about breaks from school?  Now, multiply that excitement by about one bazillion and you have the excitement that a teacher feels about those same breaks from school.


**Roughly twelve ounces.  Eek!


***Which I one time heard someone less affectionately refer to as Savannah snot.


****This is kind of unfair, because Savannah is basically ovulating right now.  It's all pretty and temperate and smells nice.  Before long, it'll rear its ugly humid head and get all bitchy and crime-ridden.  Fear not.

In Case You Missed It. . .

Seth Meyers (the next big thing; also, handsome) was the guest on Letterman last night.  Brace yourself for a whole lot of handsome hilarity!

Haunted.

Did you know that Savannah is the most haunted city in the universe?  Yep.  Sure is.

I mean, there are ghosts EVERYWHERE! And tonight I had my second brush with one.  (Read about the first here.)

You see, Matt is at work until late, and it's just me and Mitch here at home.

So here's the scene.

The house is quiet.  TV's on mute.  Mitch is lying on the couch being comfort dog.

Gratuitous pictures of the cutest dog on the planet.  He is very clearly upset by our ghost infestation.

I'm talking to Shecky on the phone.  I go outside to get the last load of laundry from the dryer, and when I come back inside I hear a ticking.  A bomb?  No, but the kitchen timer is on!  And it was set for seven minutes!  (And, duh, I didn't set it and neither did Mitch.  Plus, everyone knows that seven is a ghost's favorite number.)

And then I decided to take out the camera because I figured I could get a shot of the ghost that way.

And I did.

Look.

If that's not a ghost, I don't know what is.

Mmmmmmmmmm hmmmmmmm.  A ghost.

Also, I was trying to figure out what the MO of our little house ghost is.  Here's what I think: this ghost shoves Hershey's nuggets into my mouth, puts me to sleep, and then wakes me up and pours wine down my throat.  I  mean, basically, what we have here is a party ghost.  Could be worse, I guess.  Could be one of those murderin' types.