Weekend Fun

Friday was the last day of school for students, which meant that I basically spent the whole weekend in a state of bliss--exhausted, but happy.  So there was some celebrating, and there was a lot of gluttony, and there were early nights when it would've been okay to stay up late, and late nights when I should've been to bed early (like right now).  When I remember that school's out, and then couple that with the fact that I quit my second job a couple of months ago, I can hardly contain my excitement.  For serious.

This weekend there was gin drinkin' and baby holdin' and pool swimmin' and sun bathin'.  There was ice creamin' (WTF, David Lebovitz's Peanut Butter Ice Cream!?), and cookie bakin' and phone talkin' and movie watchin', shoppin' and margaritin'*.  

I've got a few more days of work before summer officially begins, but it's so close I can taste it.  And it tastes like ice cream.  Shoot yeah for summer!

And here's what all that fun looked like.

*That's totally a thing.

June is basically a giant beast of a baby.

 Team Opal!

Mmmmmm. . .Basil's cheesy bread!

Good way to use up extra chocolate. 

 Oh, not again!

Summer reading list comparisons.

Matt twisted his ankle, so I tied an ice pack to him, making him look like one of the ballerinas on Center Stage. 

Mitch, protector snuggler extraordinaire.  A few of those healing dog kisses 

on Matt's ankle, and Matty will be better in no time!

Well, I should probably go put out some jeans and flips flops to wear to work tomorrow.  Oh yeah, because that'll be my uniform for the next two months.  Shoot yeah!

In Case You Missed It. . .

It's possible that I'm the last person on earth to see these two videos, but they're both worth watching.

1.  Dogs and snow couldn't be cuter.



2.  Planet Rock.  Caitie called me today to introduce me to this.  Can next year's Christmas card be a video one where Matt and Mitch and I all do this dance?  OR--the new camera (It came today! Happy eeeeeaaak! More on that later.) takes HD video, so maybe I can just make it and post it here for you.

R.I.P., Wine Glasses

This is why you shouldn't drink.

Or maybe this is why you should drink? 

After Matt and I got married, we had a crapload of store credit at Macy's (seriously, does anyone on the earth need 18 place settings of Fiesta dishes?).  And one thing I purchased with that store credit was these wine glasses:

I'd registered for the red wine cousins (which are all still alive, by the way, which only serves as a testament as to how rarely I drink red wine) and they're gorgeous.  But the white wine ones?  Well, the last one lost his battle tonight.  While a partially inebriated Mandy attempted to do a dance routine to Usher's "Yeah!", she accidentally smacked the wine glass to the floor.  And it shattered.  For real shattered.  Like, all over the place.  Like, "we won't be going barefoot in the house for a long while" kind of shattered.   Well, shit.

I really loved those glasses.  R.I.P., old friends.  Many a good night we've shared together.

Fortunately, my birthday is fast approaching, and these glasses are available on Amazon.  If you don't buy them, I will.

XOXO

Notes on American Idol

Matt and I were anti-Idol until the writer's strike a couple of years back. The absence of good TV left us longing for something more, and, desperate for some new television, we threw away our pride.

Yay for throwing away pride.

So, yeah, I'd scoffed and mocked, but Simon Cowell has made me a believer. Here's why:

• Simon is hot. Like hot hot. Like surly British guy who says things like "Chin up" to a crying wannabe singer hot.
• I love passing judgment. Idol provides a great judgment-passing forum. At this point, too, Matt and I are pretty good at predicting what the judges will say. We like to play little predicting games here (similar to our Jeopardy! winning in life game or our "guess what time it is" game), where we predict exactly what the judges will say. You can't go wrong with some, "Dawg, you could sing the phone book!"
• The heartwarming stories. I usually don't get through a single audition episode without sobbing a little. This girl's taking care of her ailing grandma? That girl's dad died the day before? His WIFE died? I could start crying just thinking of past audition shows.
• Ryan. What a strange little man. Remember when he tried to high-five the blind guy?
• Hollywood Week. I f'ing love Hollywood Week. I especially love the group auditions and the drama they bring.
• I love when it's obvious that the judges have hangovers.
• Singing and dancing! Horray for singing and dancing. Second to watching Center Stage twice a week, Idol is the best place to go for singing and dancing fun.
• Wide appeal. I love that I can talk to colleagues, students, my sister, and my grandma about this show. There's something special about a show that appeals to such a wide range of people.

Now, this isn't to say that I love everything about American Idol. I've tired of the gimmicky weirdo auditions and people who try too hard (and, no, "Pants on the Ground" does not fall into this category. That song is BRILLIANT!). I hate the long commercial breaks (we wouldn't watch the show at all if it wasn't for DVR). And I really hate Kara.

I hate how she makes bedroom eyes at young boys. And I hate how she claims every pop song is brilliant (stole that one from Matt. No, Kara, Shania Twain's "I Feel Like a Woman" is not the masterpiece you claim it to be).

Hopefully, this cool cat ("think you a cool cat?. . .lookin' like a foo' with your pants on the ground") will compensate for Kara's tremendous suck.

I've loved Ellen since her ABC sitcom days, since the time her show was called These Friends of Mine and not Ellen. She's super funny and sassy.

Plus, it was from Ellen that I stole one of my favorite games of all time: pretending that the plots of movies actually happened to me. It's best to play this game when in line at a tourist attraction. Tanya and I used to do this like champions. "Hey, Tan, remember that time you went to that vacation resort with your family and then fell in love with that dance instructor? That was crazy! I can't believe your dad thought he'd knocked up that girl!"

Try it sometime. And thank Ellen. And watch American Idol. It's really fun, and Simon's sexy.

Dancing Mobs

True or False? This video made me so happy today that I cried.

It must be my early-onset menopause.

Center Stage

During my mostly unproductive day today, I have managed to catch the critically-acclaimed film Center Stage on HBO not just once--but twice!

Like The Hills and Sloppy Firsts, this movie is a guilty pleasure. It is simultaneously the best and worst movie ever made. The acting is atrocious, the plot sucks, the characters aren't even likable. Somehow, though, it is incredible. I can't peel my eyes away. And, in contrast to when I watch, say, The Hills, which I watch to fuel my inner hatred, I watch Center Stage to fuel my LOVE OF DANCE!

Brief synopsis: Jodi Sawyer loves to dance, and foregoes the opportunity to attend a proper university to pursue her dream of becoming a ballerina. She attends the American Ballet Academy, where she meets many an unlikable girl and guy, and she doesn't fit in. She's too fat and has bad feet. She sleeps with one of the instructors, thinks immediately that they're on their way to the altar, and acts like a complete idiot for 90 minutes. Along the way, said dance instructor breaks her heart but rekindles her love for dance with his unconventional style. Like I said, amazing.

When I watch any kind of dance movie, it makes me want to jump around the house and show off my moves, which is unfortunate because my moves are terrible. Picture a mentally handicapped robot made of lead. I blame it on the years my parents forced me to attend Southern Baptist school (basically Footloose). Here's a game. Can you tell which picture is of characters from Center Stage and which picture is of me?

See that food in the background on the TV? That's stuff dancers aren't allowed to eat. Center Stage does have an eating disorder subplot.

It's hard to go through life being a terrible dancer, but at least I get to eat pizza.