Weekend Update

It is no secret that I live a thrilling and exciting life.

Here are this weekend's top stories:

1)  I have discovered that my husband has an unhealthy obsession for westerns, along with hunting.

2)  In Friday's post, I quoted a line from a movie song, "Tell me why, oh why, can't I?" 

And no one knew what movie that was from.

People.

Seriously?

Let's try that again.

Here is another line:

"And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true."

Don't let me down.

 

3)  I would like everyone to know that this man:

aka, my dad, is now sending and receiving texts.

Technology.

It's changing the world.

My dad can't figure out his dvd player.

But he can text.

4)  Also, this man:

aka, my father-in-law, has joined Facebook.

And pigs can now fly.

If my dad can figure out texting and my father-in-law can figure out Facebook, then no one, and I mean no one, has any excuse to say they cannot figure this stuff out.

No one.

5) This guy:

is my brother-in-law, Jason.

I have nothing to report about him.

I just really wanted a reason to share that picture.

You're welcome, Jason.

6)  Mr. Lumberjack was trying to head off into the woods to be a manly-man hunter. 

But first he needed his gloves.

Wuss.

He could not find them anywhere.

He was quite stressed.

So, I had to help look.

I thoroughly searched my room.

No gloves.

I did, however, discover that I have completely overlooked cleaning under my bed . . . for  . . . a . . . while.

By the looks of things, I am sure that I have not paid any attention to this area since 2005.

I found some socks, toy trucks, shoes, hair bands, earrings, numerous dust bunnies. and the pump to an old lotion bottle.

But no gloves.

I wanted to suggest he just wear one of his other 15 pairs of gloves.

But, alas, they are not camoflauge.

And that would never do.

I am happy to report that Sir Lumberjack found his gloves in his hunting backpack.

Goober.

I would also like to report that I have no immediate plans to clean under my bed.

In the grand scheme of things, what does it really matter?

7)  I saw Melissa and she got her haircut really short. 

And she looks splendid.

8)  I also saw Mindy and Rachel at a little party.  I learned something about myself at said party:

Most women in this world have common sense when it comes to cooking.  They can create delightful treats without recipes.  They can peel fresh peaches.  They can make pie crusts from scratch.  They can make recipes that include the ingredient "active dry yeast." 

I am terrified of "active dry yeast," almost as much as I am terrified of unprotected left turns.

But that is a story for another day.

I am, sadly, a cooking idiot.

I learned that I am beyond help.

So, I listened to Mindy and bought some new bakeware that will magically fix all of my cooking disasters . . . right, Mindy?

Mindy?

I had better be a good cook from here on out, Mindy.

Or else.

9)  To the best of my knowledge, I have not lost any weight.

This discourages me.

Perhaps I should stop drooling over Big Macs and Egg Nog Lattes.

I mean, it has been 6 days.

Shouldn't I be skinny by now?

10)  This is day 8 of National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo).

I have committed to this, and therefore I must post every day in November.

I would like to let you all in on a little secret:

I AM RUNNING OUT OF THINGS TO SAY.

And this concludes my weekend update.

You're welcome.