Thanks!
I love Christmas decorations especially the ones at the AK’s house. This year Little AK added a naked mermaid. Who doesn’t love a naked Christmas? It gets a little chilly, sure, but just turn the heat up and enjoy.
This week’s “That’s What She Said.” This is where I come up with some clever remark, but I’m far too busy nursing my twisted ankle. Ladies, don’t wear high heels on a snow day. Your excitement to wear your new shawl will be overshadowed by a swelling ankle. Wear ugly, sensible shoes. Trust me.
Also of note: I do know the difference between Jonathan and Jordan Knight. When I saw the picture of the wrong Knight brother the paper ran alongside my column I cringed and hoped no one would notice their mistake. After quite a few emails this morning I realize that lots of people know the difference between the two, which means I’m not the only NKOTB obsessed fan… I KNEW IT!!
Seeing this at the mall yesterday made me laugh so hard I ignored my coffee for three whole minutes, which is a new record. I checked.
I’m thankful for a brother who is teaching his son how to throw down gang signs while riding around on my little pink scooter. I’m also thankful for the people who didn’t point and laugh at them like I did.
I’m also thankful for the rest of my crazy family. Without them, I’d be sane. And really who wants sanity? I sure as hell don’t!
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Enjoy the time spent with your family, also eat pie for me since I’m off sugar and stuck flying today. Please note: I hate pumpkin, cherry and apple pies. I like pecan and berry pies–warmed with vanilla ice cream.
My good Mormon parents are drug runners for Jesus. There’s no other logical explanation for their yearly disappearance to exotic locations like Columbia–that was the location for the trip last year. This year they are in Thailand. Suspicious, right?
What’s more suspicious is the fact they travel during the holidays. Last year I was forced to make my own damn mashed potatoes while they were gone. I can’t help but wonder if there’s some sort of buy one kilo get one kilo free deal going on for Black Friday.
It’s very likely they’ll end up in a Thai prison, but luckily I’ve seen the movie “Brokedown Palace” so I know exactly how to get them home. And once I do, I plan to blackmail them for extra Christmas presents. I have a feeling their Mormon bishop won’t be as understanding as I am.
While I wait for the phone call alerting me to their prison sentence I’ll continue to miss my mommy, just like I do every time she leaves the country. I’d obsess over the fact I’m a 33 year old momma’s girl, but I think this behavior is a lot healthier than when I was 16 years old yelling about how much I hated her every single day of my life. Hormones are a motherfucker.
There will obviously be a movie about my parents prison experiences, and when there is I’ll be sure to remind the producer to include the scene where the loving daughter listens to the last few voicemails her mother left over and over, because she misses her so much. See, Internet, I AM A GOOD DAUGHTER!
Princess Daisy wishes everyone a happy Halloween. Me? I hope everyone gets fat from all the candy. This was obviously the wrong time of year to try and cut back on sugar and results in a bitter, mean Sarah. Meaner than usual. Better?
RLO is ruining my life and apparently I only have myself to blame.
I recently set him up with one of my co-workers. I know, I know… in my attempt to see RLO happy I completely forgot how this would affect me–which, is pretty surprising given how selfish I am.
Thus far I’ve been pretty patient with the whole thing. I mean yeah, I’m annoyed that he’s sooooo busy dry-humping that he’s not available to go out to dinner with me. But, being the good friend that I am, I’ve dealt with it and probably saved a lot of money as a result. However, with the holiday season fast approaching I’ve got quite the dilemma: RLO has always been my pseudo date for events and parties.
Enter office party.
Enter a dateless Sarah.
Enter the end of my life.
Now that I’ve set them up, I’ve got to break them up before the office Christmas party. I’ve got a few ideas, but since most of them illegal I’m relying on RLO to screw this one up on his own. I know he’ll do the right thing. The right thing for me, not him.
Dear Ben,
Happy Birthday! I know I don’t tell you this enough but I love you Ben. You’ve always been an extraordinary brother to me. I don’t deserve you, but I’m sure as hell happy I got you anyway.
You have so many great qualities, but luckily for me one of your best traits is forgiveness. I don’t think most people know that about you. I do, however, because despite the below list you still love me.
I’m sorry I made you wear a pink shirt when you got home from your mission.
I’m sorry for constantly trying to get you killed when you were a child.
I’m sorry I made you peanut butter and spicy salsa sandwiches every time I was forced to babysit you.
I’m sorry for swearing in your mission farewell talk.
I’m sorry I told everyone we know you always cry in the movie “The Land Before Time.”
I’m sorry I just told the Internet that you cry in the movie “The Land Before Time.”
I’m sorry I called you Benjaminoballbaby when you were a kid.
I’m sorry I called you Benjaminoball-less when you were a kid.
I’m sorry for calling you Ben-gina when you were a kid…. and last week.
I’m sorry for teaching the twins to call you Uncle Mean.
I’m sorry for teaching the twins, just yesterday, to call you Auntie Uncle Ben.
You’re an incredible person, Ben. I’m so proud to be able to call you my brother. You grew up from the cutest little dimple-faced boy into the amazing man you are now. I love you baby brother.
Love,
Sissy
A repeat from last year. Not good enough for you? TOO BAD! My silly tattoo only comes in handy once a year.
I’m headed to the country to celebrate my country’s independence by watching cars wreck into one another. While I’m gone please don’t blow yourself up with fireworks! Unless I’m in the will, then by all means. I kid, I kid… Happy 4th!!
Last night I carefully set out the four pairs of green shoes I own, so that I would have a variety of green to choose from this morning. And somehow I still managed to forget it was St. Patty’s day and wear my purple, polka-dot velvet shoes. Oh well, it’s the thought that counts.