tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66138420956572039732012-02-10T22:50:01.362-05:00Life is in the details, too.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.comBlogger2021100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-65771833340756610552011-10-31T20:45:00.004-04:002011-10-31T20:55:15.078-04:00

Floating around the internet for a while- always reappearing at about this time each year- is a photo of a sign at Nordstrom. There's actually multiple versions of this photo, taken in different years. It essentially says... well, here:(Courtesy A Little Ditty and Apartment Therapy, respectively. I know nothing of either of these sites, except they are, as it were, pro Nordstrom signage.)At first

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-24705408566039694732011-06-20T18:45:00.000-04:002011-06-20T18:47:53.889-04:00

A little over a year and a half ago, I sort of ripped NYS a new one because of a defeated gay marriage bill. I swore and called names, threw in a minor threat or two...Today, I am calmly calling for the Senate of New York State to simply look around, notice what the House has noticed. The majority of New York State residents are in favor of gay marriage. This is not a "gay" issue. This is a civil

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-34671230058702463362011-06-17T16:00:00.000-04:002011-06-17T16:07:39.747-04:00

All the damn time:Me: Emily, can you please go find the XYZ?Emily: *sigh* Where is it?Me: Really?

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-57138195997148832762011-06-03T22:15:00.001-04:002011-06-03T22:26:14.406-04:00

Apparently I'm rather odd, in that as soon as I saw it, I claimed it. "Oh, I am taking that home!" My coworker looked at me oddly. "You know, you can freeze fruit, shatter it. You can make a spooky cauldron. You can even make root beer!" He gave me that look; you know the one. It says, Okay, sweetie. I'm glad you're excited. You're weird for it, but hey, I'm happy that you're happy.This is the

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-4868038786850410222011-05-15T08:00:00.000-04:002011-05-15T08:00:01.937-04:00

A copy of an email I sent to a company:Dear Martin's,What the heck.Sincerely,So-Sad-SarahAnd they did nothing! That's it, Martin's! I'm calling you out, for the entire internet to see! For shame! Writhe in the muck that shall now be your reputation!Sincerely,So-Sad-Sarah

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-43752226799416902522011-05-14T19:15:00.000-04:002011-05-14T19:20:40.390-04:00

The answer is "not since bills started arriving with my name on them". Who gets excited by mail, past age 13? I'll tell you who- this girl, that's who.I present to you what I got from one of my fabulous readers (my mom!):That's right. An entire case of Spreeeeeees!Of course, Mom is earning herself a reputation. Substitute "waffle maker" for "Sprees", and you get this post from my sister, Lindsey.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-92042360128383738952011-05-01T20:15:00.000-04:002011-05-01T20:27:47.474-04:00

I was going on a bit of a drive to pick up the kids- off visiting the grandparents. I don't know how it was when you were growing up, but for me, the drive was all about the snacks. As I have zero self-control when it comes to food that is in my vicinity, I knew I was going to stop at some point and stock up on goodies of some sort, so I went with a preemptive strike and stopped before I left

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-61296929363606113502011-03-30T18:00:00.003-04:002011-03-30T18:14:30.882-04:00

For the entirety of their lives, I have given my kids a hard time whenever they try to talk to me through the bathroom door. Sometimes I say, "Not when I'm in the bathroom!", "I'll talk to you when I come out!", or "I'm in the bathroom!" Because, dammit, those two minutes are my me-time, and I deserve it. Generally speaking, they don't need to be reprimanded much anymore: "Mom?" "Bathroom!" "Oh,"

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-61158043285758755132011-03-13T19:30:00.001-04:002011-03-13T19:32:38.451-04:00

Suddenly, he tripped and the men were on top of him, hitting him repeatedly. When he was bruised and bloodied, they dragged him back to the cottage. They tied him to a stake in the front yard by his hands and feet so tight he could not move an inch.The old woman came out and cackled madly. "In the morning, boy, in the morning," spittle going down her chin and her eyes wide and quite mad. The boy

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-28950120192297279282011-03-09T20:30:00.004-05:002011-03-09T20:36:28.325-05:00

Sam is testing Ethan on spelling. "Curl."Ethan responds, "c-u-r-l."Next Sam says, "Bitch."Beat.Beat.I look at him, befuddled. Ethan starts giggling."Huh?" Sam says as if it had come from someone else. He rechecks the paper. "Oh. Birth."I think Sam's cold meds are slowing his brain down a bit.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-44282724570795735782011-02-25T08:15:00.002-05:002011-02-25T08:25:51.716-05:00

Trashing Chuck Lorre? I've never seen him do anything but state the obvious about you, no name calling, and then express amazement of your ability to be not dead. You were foul and nasty and one step away from the slurring anti-semitic Mel Gibson. If you're not on drugs, if you're just high on life, then you have lingering pot smoke and cocaine dust in the air, not to mention a build up of lsd in

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-17494611192901439102011-02-18T09:30:00.000-05:002011-02-18T09:31:07.981-05:00

Dammit, is the sound still on on the television? No, ignore it. Need to learn to ignore sounds if I want to be able to meditate at work... Where would I? The break room? People will think I'm insane. The bathroom! No, no lids. Go to the car- it won't be freezing much longer... It might get too warm, not idling the car, I kill the environment too much anyway. Roll down the windows, open the sun

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-55257970601316061712011-02-16T19:00:00.000-05:002011-02-16T19:11:52.747-05:00

I think the proof of this fact is that I published this post before I actually wrote it. Score one for the beerdafed. I've never had to retract a post and it took a few minutes to figure out how to do so.I've got a cold. Whine, whine, bitch, moan. Normally, I just take a sickness like a woman. That is to say, I've got shit to do, I've got to keep moving. This time, I am whining like a total man.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-3633531898184668792011-01-11T16:15:00.000-05:002011-01-11T16:18:01.734-05:00

Emmy woke up sick today. Actually, I think she went to bed sick- at seven without dinner. It was hard to tell, last night, whether she was actually not feeling well or just didn't want the pork chops- and, to be fair, the smell disgusted me. I don't eat pork, but even if I did I would have drank my dinner anyway.Emily is a bit dramatic and a bit hypochondriatic (yuh-huh it's a word), and she

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-51260262071495769802010-12-05T23:00:00.003-05:002010-12-05T23:17:18.084-05:00

While I know it may not be technically true, in my book Irish Coffee simply refers to coffee that has become even more fun to drink by the addition of alcohol. Sure, Irish Whiskey is the traditional route, but that's not necessarily the most creative recipe ever. And I like creating new recipes! Sometimes that's a new blend for mashed potatoes, sometimes it's a new modification to a pie, but

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-37168161017429849492010-11-23T18:00:00.001-05:002010-11-23T18:08:30.024-05:00

Ethan: In a book in school, there's a picture of a boy completely naked.Me: *shrug* You know what a naked boy looks like.Ethan: Yeah, but I think that's completely inappropriate for school.And this is where it would have ended, if it were up to me. But no.Ethan: Some boys in my class were looking at it.Me, trying to keep this conversation from turning into an interrogation: Where did this

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-46996357453736723722010-10-28T20:45:00.000-04:002010-10-28T20:48:50.889-04:00

Somebody link me to one of those websites where you can create a petition... Okay, no, don't do that. Instead, if someone could just create one for me?I propose a new law to expand the Do Not Call Registry to include those Asshole Political Candidates.Yes, I'm still on this topic.In the last hour, I have hung the answering machine up twice on calls for candidates. This does not include the two

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-30813180867399028212010-10-22T17:00:00.001-04:002010-10-22T17:19:07.444-04:00

I am going to give you a hint- not even a hint. No interpretation needed. Please pay attention to the following:I am going to vote for whichever of you bitches does not send me any junk mail. Also, you have to make sure that your stupid supporters go back and pick up all those roadside signs they so carefully lined my commute with. Stop killing my planet. Planet killers.The intelligent among

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-63244279665424512452010-10-20T07:00:00.000-04:002010-10-20T07:06:22.471-04:00

Being you is cool.Unless you're a bully.Bullies suck.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-91014818469848500852010-09-20T12:30:00.000-04:002010-09-20T12:33:49.901-04:00

Today, ladies and gents, we are delving into the world of epilators. We begin with a brief explanation of just what an epilator is (I do have one or two male readers, I think). It is a hair-by-the-root removal device. Too brief? Let me elaborate.This is a torture device, fit for baby rapists and puppy bakers. Only I could never do this to another human being, even if they were a baby rapist

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-62145412118720528742010-09-06T16:30:00.000-04:002010-09-06T16:30:00.593-04:00

We see a woman with multiple facial piercings walking toward us in the mall- not just several, but every conceivable nose, eyebrow and lip piercing.Sam, quietly to me (obviously not quiet enough): I wonder what else she has pierced.Ethan: Her ears.I don't recall the circumstances, here, but we'll just assume it's a typical day.Me: Bloody hell!Ethan: That's what Gordon Ramsey says... except

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-64637780451967682432010-08-31T12:00:00.002-04:002010-08-31T12:21:04.609-04:00

Dear Beloved Reader,A screenshot from the analytics for this blog. This is from this morning.Don't do that. Mostly because I was forced to then do that same search. It came up with nothing, by the way. Til now.Much love and no-seriously-does-this-look-like-the-blog-for-that,Sarah

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-9773480874868575612010-08-27T17:45:00.000-04:002010-08-27T17:46:52.408-04:00

Update- which is a term I hesitate to use because who really needs an update about Sam's urination habits? But it refers to that post- the one right down there under this one. I no linky, you scroll- if absolutely necessary. Apparently I did not understand exactly the issue. Probably because [as when a blogger writes too long a post and readers go, "too long. did not read." (like this is now

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-83551943953562211522010-08-25T10:00:00.002-04:002010-08-25T12:45:15.527-04:00

Sam called to say that his new pants... okay, because he's bought all these new clothes and is shocked to find out that people seem to treat him more respectfully and value his opinion more when he is dressed nicer. Out of jeans and into slacks, they are cut nicer and have two buttons to the front panel- thus allowing it to sit flatter against his abdomen. This is more flattering to everyone.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-51110854229873127542010-08-18T14:15:00.000-04:002010-08-18T14:23:17.926-04:00

I was looking at -->something online this morning that reminded me that I have a crush on Wil Wheaton- this is thanks to thebloggess, who, years ago, reintroduced me to the grown-up version of him. It's just more proof that I'm a nerd-boy-groupie. So, there I am, totally immersed in stalkering Wil Wheaton, when Sam calls.Sam: Hey.Me: Hey, I'm gonna have Wil Wheaton's babies, if it's all the

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-73306476453887949472010-08-17T08:15:00.004-04:002010-08-17T08:38:00.407-04:00

Oh, the humanity...

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-47092930220940444642010-08-13T11:30:00.000-04:002010-08-13T11:38:58.140-04:00

I kind of want to cry and vomit at the same time, except that my head just exploded.Glenn Beck and I are standing on the same side of an issue.No, wait! Come back! Do you know how hard it was for me to say that?From thedailywh.at (because I credit where credit is due) to The Huffington Post (this is the link with the video) to Bill O'Reilly to Glenn Beck (no, neither of those... ahem...

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-70667231189444914942010-08-11T13:30:00.000-04:002010-08-11T13:32:06.945-04:00

You filthy bastards.I get that you think you are technologically advanced. I get that you know that your fast-forward in On Demand mode is wonky at best, and I know that you know that I know that it is that way on purpose- makes it harder, in fact impossible, to fast-forward through those commercials that you add in in the midst of a show; oh, forgive me, that the network adds in.Which, fine.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-77063369458872835572010-08-02T11:45:00.001-04:002010-08-02T11:57:38.944-04:00

Anyone ever notice how often I begin a post or a new paragraph with the word "so"? Not this time. This one is mid-paragraph. So, normally I don't respond at all to those comments that are like, "you write good! i right good to! you should visit and follow my blog!". There is not often a good way to reply; actually going to their blog, whether to check them out or blast them, is just feeding

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-51467195155709072752010-07-23T19:30:00.000-04:002010-07-23T19:38:36.949-04:00

Please, for the love of holy-jesus-stop-scarring-my-children-and-my-retinas, stop stop stop stop playing that commercial for howstuffworks.com where they show the whale being harpooned. I know they're using your own footage. I get the nifty connection, the cross promotion you are doing, but you are making me sad. Seriously sad. What's worse is that you are making my kids sad. What in the

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-25638392713677791362010-07-20T18:15:00.003-04:002010-07-21T09:57:13.359-04:00

This is not a phrase I ever expected to utter, yet there I was, last Saturday on Bridge Street in Bar Harbor, Maine.Little did we know, back in November when we started planning this trip, that, the day before we left, Obama'd be like, "Bar Harbor? I hear their lobstas and local brews are kick-ass! Count me in!""Uh, no, sorry, Barack. This is a family vacation," I said."No problemo!" he

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-86452739071963874282010-07-13T16:30:00.003-04:002010-07-13T16:40:26.326-04:00

To- okay, more like "at"- a truck driver who had parked half on the shoulder, half in the lane of a major road, and then also had his driver side door open, thereby taking up the entire (and only, in that direction) lane- on yet another blind curve, which was also on the top of a blind hill*, Me: Way to be a moron, Ohio Idiot. (Because he had an Ohio plate, of course.)Ethan: Who, me?Connor:

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-27688309398126707772010-06-28T16:30:00.003-04:002010-06-28T16:42:16.992-04:00

On the other, of course they only clean to destroy art... or maybe it's to hide the embarrassing fact that they never do clean otherwise. Fifty-fifty?"So... what do I write on the ticket? That he's not voluntarily cleaning thoroughly enough? Uhm, how about restricting the flow of traffic? No, wait, that's us."Check out the followup:

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-29709997156481820182010-06-25T12:30:00.000-04:002010-06-25T12:32:18.419-04:00

I appreciate that you decided to pull over to the side of the road in order to take a phone call. However, perhaps you could have chosen not to pull over on the highway off-ramp? Yeah, that super curvy one, the one with nearly blind curve. Perhaps the road the off-ramp connects to would have been a more logical choice? Or, say, that half-empty, free, carpool parking lot? The one right in

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-31723095745386411202010-06-23T09:45:00.001-04:002010-06-23T09:53:45.695-04:00

Please don't think less of me.I...sighOkay, like a band-aid. (No, not braille-y. Rip-quick-for-less-pain.)I am and/or was a fan of the Twilight series of books.Deep inhale. Deep exhale. A weight has been lifted.So the am/was of it all is due to the fact that I finished reading the main series within days of release of the last book and have not really looked back. When I was reading them, I

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-87106392141794324202010-06-10T09:00:00.000-04:002010-06-10T09:11:56.280-04:00

Woohoo, bitches!P.S. Not a single person had an answer on the braille band-aids? Mother hell. For shame.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-13619482436695171112010-06-04T17:00:00.003-04:002010-07-09T06:34:29.675-04:00

Apparently pharmaceutical packaging in the EU is required to have braille on it, as of this year.This is the most boring first sentence of a post I have ever written. Blah.Anyway! What this means, in some ass-backward way, is that the latest Band-Aid brand bandages that have made their way into my abode have braille. It's possible that off brand ones would, too- truly, I am not a brand snob-

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-22548573209817660412010-05-02T23:45:00.000-04:002010-05-02T23:51:32.467-04:00

So I was walking past the full length mirror in my room- yes, a full length mirror. If you don't have one, you are doing yourself a disservice. You can often tell someone who doesn't have a full length mirror in their house because, daa-yum, you should not be wearing those pants.So I was walking past the full length mirror in my room, naked- yes, naked. I would make excuses about having just

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-39667074852918443442010-04-27T15:30:00.001-04:002010-04-27T15:39:56.484-04:00

...being one of your defining characteristics. It could be! All are welcome! Just odds against.), can we all just agree to stop using the term "teabaggers" for the current conservative movement? (NSFW. Holy hell, NSFW.) (Mom, please don't click that link. I said don't click that link!)Please? Can we please choose a new term?

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-86491261175871144602010-04-26T20:45:00.000-04:002010-04-26T20:49:34.028-04:00

I know that we, as a society, want everything bigger and faster and more, more more, more! (Everyone's inner-reading-voice should have just converted to Boris Karloff- "And they'd sing! AND they'd SING! SING! SING! SING"!) (That was a reference to How the Grinch Stole Christmas! If you didn't get that from the last set of parentheses, you should never tell me because I will make fun of you

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-31556101563171330572010-04-23T21:45:00.000-04:002010-04-23T21:56:07.509-04:00

So our conversations constantly alternate between all of the good reasons to get a dog and all of the good reasons for her to go to ballet or hip-hop or tap or gymnastics or...Emily: ...and I really like dancing!Ethan: Me, too!Emily: You could take dancing lessons, too!Ethan: No, thanks. I think I'm a great dancer.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-25001812538199946342010-04-07T10:20:00.003-04:002010-04-07T10:39:42.451-04:00

Which I apologize for.We've all heard about the girl who wanted to take her girlfriend to the prom. No, I didn't stutter. Girl, girlfriend. She is- gasp- a teenage lesbian. And her school said, "no". And the court said, "uh uh, motherfuckers, that's not allowed." And her school threw a pissy-fit and said, "FINE then! We didn't want to have a prom anyway, you big meanies! That is unless

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-15235931323082494972010-03-17T11:30:00.001-04:002010-03-17T11:39:09.744-04:00

This morning, the first thing I typed to Cassie was, "i'm going to investigate a noise. if i'm not back in five minutes, call the police." She responded with, "will do".I'm not entirely sure this was the most logical way for me to go about things.In situations like this, I always debate my under-reaction and my over-reaction. I refuse to be the chick who calls the police over a noise at her

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-63113329533845130062010-03-11T13:35:00.000-05:002010-03-11T13:39:42.796-05:00

Most of the time, in this house, I am not involved in the better conversations. Sometimes, sometimes I am blessed enough to be a witness. Frankly, even when I'm part of the the conversation, I'm still usually just a witness.Rule number one: Ethan is always a participant.Rule number two: The conversation is always just two people.Rule number three: Usually, the second party in the

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-5384496563841922672010-02-15T12:19:00.006-05:002010-02-15T16:56:41.328-05:00

Sam and I stopped by a quick-stop-and-go-gas-station place for beer. I set it at the register and sort of stepped away so Sam could pay. Okay, what I really did was turn away and stare longingly at the enormous candy display behind me, reciting (In my head, only, thanks. I'm not completely insane.), and this sounds like The Little Train That Shouldn't, "I don't need candy. I don't need candy.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-10737942054396330062010-02-10T19:15:00.000-05:002010-02-10T19:23:05.755-05:00

I had on the 19 Kids and Counting show this morning.Shut up.And, forewarning, I've got another post about the show in edit right at this moment, so I should think you'd be best served by learning to deal now.So I was playing a DVR'd episode of the show this morning- yes, I not only watch the show, I record it.For anyone who is not currently sneering at their screen, I'll give a brief description

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-56162017292697216022010-02-09T17:30:00.000-05:002010-02-09T17:30:58.592-05:00

Except not that for-serious post. This one. Which was the follow up to this one. They were all about a particular spam email that really pleased me. I was checking my spam folder again for blog fodder anything sent there by mistake, and noticed it had reached a personal high for spam count. Thirteen! Let's discuss.To begin, I just don't think anything official would have a from line of "

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-19515986057435795912010-02-08T13:10:00.000-05:002010-02-08T13:10:07.023-05:00

Because apparently letting her eat fried chicken and grapefruit with an upset stomach is a bad idea.Apparently.Go me.I'm an awe-inspiring mother.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-92163328587557744272010-01-26T16:15:00.000-05:002010-01-26T16:25:31.307-05:00

...the words that they are using, and it isn't until they've started speaking clearly, and yet they're still using that odd pronunciation, that it occurs to you that, no, he really has no idea what he was saying?Ethan: "Crap, snapple, pop, rice krispies!"It's kinda like that.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-34946074439199342182010-01-22T20:45:00.002-05:002010-01-25T06:33:12.146-05:00

I thought I'd start with that because, well, there are so many ultra-conservative assholes who think that anyone with any-any-any liberal opinions is anti-American. And they are known for reading my blog. Right?So, yes, this will be a vaguely heavily politics saturated post.Let's discuss what happened in Massachusetts. That state (you're a state, you bastards. Uppity commonwealth b.s.) just

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-6267077668262519132010-01-12T16:00:00.000-05:002010-01-12T16:14:05.138-05:00

In response to yesterday's post, I found this:Call Me Cate said... So what happens when he googles the right combination to find your blog?!?!?.........Sonuvabitch.Great. Now I have to figure out how to preemptively block a site that is not specifically associated with pornography. Thanks for giving me more work, Cate.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-82087888650924281122010-01-11T17:00:00.000-05:002010-01-11T17:05:01.362-05:00

As a good parent, you're supposed to monitor your children's computer activities. This is what "they" say, right?Well, anyway, part of the new protection software that Sam installed for all our computers was monitoring software. Which we don't hide. In fact, the first thing we told the children upon them getting computering privileges was that we were monitoring every single thing they did-

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-84086434742900334762010-01-07T21:00:00.002-05:002010-01-07T21:27:43.411-05:00

Blah blah blah you suck blah blah blah fuckatards, all of you (okay, not 14 of you- the other 20 of you should just sod off) blah blah blah... listen, just go read this. And this.Oh, and a special double-bird-flip goes out to the backward-out-his-ass-talking Michael Doherty. He's the State Senator from the Washington Township in Warren County. Here's his quote. "Suddenly, today, there's

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-35040768143921983472009-12-25T07:15:00.000-05:002009-12-25T07:15:51.071-05:00

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring... oh, wait...3:08am*Knock Knock*"Go back to bed," I say, groggily."But I threw up.""Oh, no."Poor Ethan. What a way to start Christmas. Poor me. Is there any possible way to get puke out of a mattress? Especially at three in the morning?I set him up in a little nest right outside the bathroom door. He

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-28776406842482176992009-12-23T15:30:00.000-05:002009-12-23T15:34:27.414-05:00

...please seek the help you so desperately need.Unless you meant dead crab. In which case- the help you need might be a stomach pumping. Also the ability to watch your typos.Also, who the hell googles in complete sentences? Stop doing that. Key words, asshole, key words.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-66376400461094605422009-12-19T10:00:00.000-05:002009-12-19T10:06:17.845-05:00

Please stop smoking in the goddamn trucks. That's all I'm asking. I'm tired of the receiving room at work smelling like someone set a pack of cigarettes on fire in the middle of the floor of the room for hours after you leave. I'm tired of my purchases showing up to my house stinking so awful. Seriously, Sam accused me of smoking because I had a delivery sitting on the chair next to me. If

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-54731005289785539952009-12-16T09:45:00.000-05:002009-12-16T09:47:29.386-05:00

So, today, my friend told me it was time for me to write a new post because my lame ass can't seem to post on a regular basis because of the news that Washington DC is legalizing gay marriage.Which kinda pissed me off. Not at her- she makes a valid point. It's just a damn shame that we have to applaud SIMPLY DOING THE RIGHT THING.God damn, people.Fine. Bravo, DC! You did the right thing.But

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-12895888535090027592009-12-13T08:00:00.000-05:002009-12-13T08:06:35.009-05:00

Ethan's terribly shy. He says he doesn't have any friends, but the confusing part of this is that whenever we run into a classmate of his, without fail, that classmate greets him with enthusiasm and calls him "my friend, Ethan". My only conclusion? Little man just doesn't know what constitutes a "friend". He says that, most of the time on the playground, he just walks around alone. I was

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-20619883351725155602009-12-03T07:00:00.001-05:002009-12-03T07:10:52.058-05:00

Hey, New York, go join Maine in the corner. Assholes. Ever take a history class? Hell, most of you should remember when our federal government had to make certain states allow interracial marriage. How embarrassing! Imagine being a politician in a state that did something as awful as to not allow two people of different races to marry! Well, you fucktards, that's how history will remember

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-87712713093271544292009-11-30T19:15:00.000-05:002009-11-30T19:26:16.951-05:00

Scarlett Johansson was on Ellen today- singing. I didn't realize she was a singer. Sam's response was something along the lines of a muttered, "She fancies herself a singer like all the rest of the actresses, huh."But apparently I did know she was singer because once she started the song I realized that it was, indeed, from a CD that my store plays ad nauseum (this is latin for "until I (yes,

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-72351134483335219122009-11-11T15:25:00.000-05:002009-11-11T15:25:55.280-05:00

For some reason, the lint trap isn't very good at the "trapping" bit of the equation. This means that every once in a while, I boost Sam into the attic and he has to hot-foot it over to the vent, reach up into the roof-line, and pull a small quilt out of the little bird-blocker screen. The first time we did this, Sam discovered that the geniuses that had installed the vent hoses in the attic

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-40251835374900721472009-11-09T19:30:00.002-05:002009-11-09T19:33:47.389-05:00

Dear Hershey's,I, for one, have never seen much point to chocolate flavored candy. If I want chocolate, just give me the effing chocolate, okay? But you chose to contaminiate riddle sprinkle my endearingly discounted bag of post-Halloween candy with the Hershey's Chocolate Pops (Naturally & Artificially Flavored Lollipop!).Moments ago, I thought, "What the hell. I can't always be so

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-12740328528245312952009-11-06T17:30:00.000-05:002009-11-06T17:34:55.578-05:00

So! Recently, we've had a bout of H1N1 up in this hizouse. Or not. Who knows. What I do know was Emily got a big-ass but short-lived fever, a little bit of tired, and a slightly longer lasting cough. No belly pains, no lethargy, no dehydration. Several days later, Ethan followed suit. There and gone. From what I can tell, this either was or was not piggy-flu. So I am going with it was,

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-28275222302834143052009-11-04T08:00:00.001-05:002009-11-04T08:21:28.553-05:00

Good job on the trashing of civil liberties and stomping on basic human rights. It's amazing that any seemingly intelligent east coast state could look at California and go, "Hey, now there's an idea! Let's follow those morons!" Way to stick it to the minority. You suck.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-44353327935115137072009-10-29T21:15:00.001-04:002009-10-29T21:16:58.989-04:00

A customer came in today wearing a surgical mask. I have to admit, my first reaction was, "Boy, she is one crazy bitch." So then I kinda beat myself up for being a judgmental asshole. "Let's give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she is sick and doesn't want to infect us." And that thought led to, "Fuck. What a selfish bitch! Why would she even come into public if beyotch is contagious?"

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-90514287813093844132009-10-28T15:30:00.001-04:002009-10-28T15:39:55.591-04:00

Emily had a Halloween party at school- at night, sans parents, a first. When I went in to pick her up, I walked in just ahead of a teen girl and her (I assume) boyfriend. Just as I was about to greet Emily, said teenage girl shouted, "Emily!" Instead of responding, Emily just glared at her. Obviously not giving a damn that Emily did not reply, she walked away, saying to her boyfriend, "That's

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-4549927419608602292009-10-21T15:45:00.001-04:002009-10-21T15:54:58.407-04:00

This morning, Connor was putting his lunch... bits? containers? food stuffs?... into his lunchbox. "And to think," he said, "that I only have this *indicates lunchbox* because of cheating."I gave him a glare. "At bible camp." Yes, bible camp. I know. Long, boring story, don't ask."Yeah," he said, then he smirked. "I'm going to hell." And off he flounced.I? Stood there with my mouth

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-57077403974005188912009-10-17T12:30:00.000-04:002009-10-17T12:39:14.982-04:00

Cate44 hours with no schedule! Woo!

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-90625916964645976382009-10-16T16:30:00.000-04:002009-10-16T16:34:48.485-04:00

So, my kid. The oldest one. He turned twelve recently. Twelve. What the hell? I'm not sure how all that happened, but it did. My friend, Cassie, passed along birthday greetings:Flutterby: your kid!had a birthdayhappy birthday to your kid!me: didn't we already talk about his birthday?Flutterby: we talked about that he was going to have one!and then i forgotme: ohokay!Flutterby: and i

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-74862175335791757452009-10-11T21:30:00.001-04:002009-10-11T21:36:30.495-04:00

At soccer today, one of the opposing team kicked the ball right into the crowd, hitting the mother of a teammate of Connor's.This teammate, in turn, yelled, "Hey! You nailed my mom!"At which point my mind went in the completely wrong direction.And this is why- soccer mom I am not.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-14312796361342304802009-10-10T08:15:00.000-04:002009-10-10T08:17:26.307-04:00

CateIcky day. We'll go ice skating!

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-44378928416260498252009-10-07T18:00:00.000-04:002009-10-09T18:22:52.049-04:00

This post is dedicated to The Bloggess- who is insane, but only in a way that makes me worry for her, not for me or my children. If you've never read her stuff, you must, if for no other reason than that this post will make no sense to you. She makes up words, fights with her husband, and very occasionally offends a major religion in her blog, and I swear I am talking about someone other than

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-22668975006041067912009-10-07T16:00:00.000-04:002009-10-07T16:04:23.888-04:00

Last night I made a shepherd's pie / chicken pot pie... thingy. It was a shepherd's pie except made with chicken. It was chicken pot pie except with mash instead of a crust. Whatever, it turned out pretty okay. It got no complaints- which count for nothing anyway, but it's still nice not to have to listen to whineys.Sam got home while we were at soccer, but had eaten by the time we got home.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-49601597098097521442009-10-05T16:30:00.003-04:002009-10-05T16:40:22.050-04:00

Connor beats me home on school days. Usually. With no warning, however, he did not today.Me: Hi, my son Connor is in seventh grade there. He didn't come home and I'm just wondering if there's an after-school activity he might be attending?School Secretary: Connor... hmm, actually, yeah. Dark hair, it's longish kinda...Me: Shaggy, yes, that's him.SS: Yeah, I was up there earlier, and I

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-77437548406346445122009-09-19T09:45:00.000-04:002009-09-19T09:47:28.956-04:00

Cate Cate-bo-bate, banana-fana fo-fate, fee-fi-mo-mate, CATE!The laundry mountain must be conquered...

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-11061349257669018502009-09-16T19:00:00.000-04:002009-09-16T19:00:10.930-04:00

Sam: Are you gonna be a chef?Ethan: I'm gonna be me.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-14495283624742962232009-09-12T11:05:00.000-04:002009-09-12T11:08:29.496-04:00

CateSoccer starts tomorrow. Gee, what fun.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-60608802407715718442009-09-11T17:00:00.003-04:002009-09-11T17:24:11.785-04:00

This is called foreshadowing:Emily: Mommy, can I put my new water bottle in the freezer?Mommy: It's not a very good idea. If the water freezes, it'll break the bottle. I guess if you only leave it in there a few minutes it will be fine, but you can't forget about it.In fairness, she remembered it the first time she attempted this. The second? Notsomuch.Emily, running in with tears in her

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-508462661824506532009-09-10T11:15:00.003-04:002009-09-10T17:01:54.676-04:00

So, hi. I'm Sarah. I haven't been around in a while, I know. Eeeehhhneeewaayyyy... I had a couple of interesting conversations at work. This is pretty much all you're getting out of me.Customer: Hello.Me: Hi. Can I help you with anything?C: No. How are you?Me: I'm fine, thanks for asking. How are you?C: I'm fine.Me: That's great.C: Did you go to college?Me: I did indeed.C: Oh. I

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-89982047446646372462009-09-05T10:05:00.001-04:002009-09-05T10:07:21.441-04:00

Check Cate!Nothing on the schedule today. Yay!

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-65747489629628740422009-08-31T17:00:00.002-04:002009-08-31T17:35:14.576-04:00

...and this is what you get.Connor apparently "dropped" a stick on Ethan's face? The question mark- and also my confused nose wrinkling- is because, yeah, I don't get it, either.Well, anyway, here's the result:Yep, it starts just under his eye. And, yes, I did make him hold still while I went searching for the camera. One day, when he's scarred, this is the image he can use to burn some shame

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-39228521170967175382009-08-30T00:01:00.000-04:002009-08-30T00:01:01.136-04:00

I know that anyone who reads my blog is too smart for this information. Perhaps, though, you could just send a link to the people in your life to whom you know this advice pertains.And, for those of you who arrived at this post through a link in a friendly email or perhaps after following a url from a crumbled piece of paper shoved hurriedly into your hand by a well intentioned if not all too

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-78213879424249024362009-08-26T09:46:00.011-04:002009-08-26T12:28:23.389-04:00

While cleaning off the black hole downstairs desk, I had to sort through the kids' school papers from the last two years (shut up). In doing so, I came across another gem from Emily from first grade. You don't read First Grader, you say? No problem, I'll translate.My Gerbil Gerbyby EmilyMy Gerbil Gerby begs a lot.He makes tunnels a lot, too.Sometimes he drinks andeats a lot, too.But I like

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-26867291497929135012009-08-23T10:46:00.003-04:002009-08-23T12:02:54.105-04:00

Let me preface this by saying that Sam neither drinks coffee nor grew up with anyone who did.Yesterday morning, Sam decided to make me coffee. This was the third time he attempted it. Through trial and error, watching me, listening to me describe the process, he pretty much had it figured out. Still... something was wrong.Me: You didn't do it right.He: Yes I did!Me: Thank you, it's really

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-80102616764594284442009-08-22T09:00:00.001-04:002009-08-22T09:00:31.102-04:00

See Cate run.Due to circumstances beyond our control...

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-26337780116235686522009-08-20T10:30:00.000-04:002009-08-20T10:33:52.839-04:00

Every year, the local kids' soccer association hires a couple of soccer "professionals"- the quotes are because, honestly, I don't know what makes them professionals or if they really are or what professional what they are- to come in for several days and give all the kids some really good coaching before the season begins.The really nice part about it? They're always young British men. Yay for

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-35054820409801291252009-08-19T11:25:00.003-04:002009-08-19T15:46:24.675-04:00

I spent a good chunk of my childhood in the south. As a navy brat, moving around a lot has given me an odd accent. Now, by "odd", I don't mean you hear me and think "this bitch is nuts!"... okay, you might think that, but not because of my accent. It's simply of indeterminate origins. That being said, my father retired and we moved up north and I was teased from moment one for my southern

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-53927331301254384072009-08-18T07:25:00.000-04:002009-08-18T07:25:00.940-04:00

So, let me preface this by saying that I cannot sleep at night with my feet uncovered because gremlins will grab my ankles. That's right- gremlins. Not that I believe in them, but it's still true.Last night: I am awoken by something slithering up my nightstand. Here, right at moment one, is where Sam's and my accounts differ. I say, upon seeing something move in the dark, I yell, "Oh, shit!"

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-49387751746398161442009-08-17T14:30:00.004-04:002009-08-17T14:37:44.943-04:00

Remember? Back a loooong time ago? When I said my husband used the term "meditatiate"?For clarity to all two dozen people who read said post, he did not make up the term "meditatiate". The woman who was babbling on television had used some form of the word meditate so many times that she fell over her own stupid tongue and used the term, herself. He's losing his mind thinking all my millions

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-91551036946519479902009-08-17T07:30:00.003-04:002009-08-17T07:30:00.241-04:00

It's a friggin' miracle- of Buddy Jesus proportions, anyway. I cut into a green pepper that I grew all by my onesies in my own backyard garden. Lo and behold:It even has eyebrows!Be happy.And listen, no one come and tell me that this means the pepper was contaminated with typhoid or something. We already ate the pepper, so I'd rather just not know.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-77260137760144115772009-08-16T15:45:00.001-04:002009-08-16T15:51:15.278-04:00

On television was a show about a couple who wanted a feng-shui-ed-out garden. The nutter expert who was advising them in the process kept going on and on and on for effing ever 'til I reached through the tv and punched her in the throat about meditate this and meditation that and meditating for you and me!Sam walked into the room. "Meditatiate!" he announced- the expert was just shy of making

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-4257393458949712852009-08-15T11:15:00.001-04:002009-08-15T11:18:18.972-04:00

Confused? See Cate.See my last Six Word Saturday!

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-75665289031207093892009-08-13T13:30:00.001-04:002009-08-13T13:31:36.912-04:00

This is my blog. Welcome! It's not terribly popular, which is fine because then I'd feel some obligation to write something of quality and also on a regular basis. And, honestly, maybe I do have time for that, but I'm far too lazy. It would definitely cut into my lazy time.That does not mean I don't pay attention to what's going on with it, though. I see how many times it was visited in a

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-36412363814148580382009-08-08T11:50:00.000-04:002009-08-08T11:54:37.057-04:00

Cate!Check out my gorgeous weather, bitches!

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-61442740717352676062009-08-07T15:30:00.000-04:002009-08-07T15:30:00.846-04:00

A few weeks ago, Sam and I noticed some damage to the ground all around the downspout of the front gutter. It goes directly into a drainage pipe that runs underground for... well, for the sake of brevity, let's just say forever and all distance. Point being, if it's clogged up under there, and the water is backing up and damaging the ground like that, our front yard is screwed. And so are we.

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-56425529124409282962009-08-01T23:45:00.009-04:002009-08-03T14:51:30.142-04:00

As my sister's facebook status says, it just wouldn't be a trip to our parents' house without a bat "situation". Now, I am great in all sorts of crises. Except bats. No bats. No effing bats. So I scream like a twelve year old girl at a Jonas Brothers concert, demanding to be let out of whatever godforsaken room the nasty plague carrying rat with wings- and fangs- has ventured into. And by "

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-59626496300943707632009-07-24T09:45:00.002-04:002009-07-24T09:55:18.654-04:00

One evening of our trip, we go to a fantastic mexican restaurant. They make a margarita to end all margaritas. Normally I'm a frozen margarita girl because it needs to be frozen to cover up the nasty syrupy mess that most places serve. This one is excellent on the rocks, no salt necessary.At one point, a woman comes over and says "Quieres mas? You have limonda o agua?" Now, as I have neither

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-17766368603999700042009-07-20T18:45:00.000-04:002009-07-20T18:48:35.128-04:00

So. It was a long-ass trip. And I only posted once during it. And not at all since. I know. I'm not back in any kind of routine yet, and on top of that I won't be for a while to come. But I'm gonna try a little harder. Possibly.The trip was great, but not exactly humorous. There's plenty of great pictures! To me. Everyone's seen other people's pictures of the Grand Canyon, so mine are

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-36450718643356973222009-07-02T22:45:00.001-04:002009-07-02T23:03:09.042-04:00

We're currently on the road, traveling across the country. As I'm writing this- writing, mind you, not uploading- we are in Iowa. Which, by the way, the conversation I just had with Sam went: "The hell, where are we? Illinois?" "Iowa! What the hell? Oh no, are you writing a blog entry?"An hour ago, I was going to say that the most exciting thing that had happened so far in this trip was

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6613842095657203973.post-44109801285492040892009-06-22T09:10:00.000-04:002009-06-22T09:10:35.134-04:00

I was at work the other night and called Sam to see how the evening was going. Homework was done, yay. The kids had eaten, a plus. And then...Sam: The neighbor's dog caught and killed a groundhog.Me: Oh, no.Sam: Yeah. It was a baby.Me: Ick. What did she do with it?Sam: Well, she was going through our property on her way home, I guess. But then the kids ran out to see and scared her and

Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13468553518810909684noreply@blogger.com2