Now Watch Me Pull A Rabbit Out Of My Hat!

50 points if you got that.  Seriously, I will google your name, get your address, and send you 50 points in the mail.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

This is only like, the umpteen millionth time I’ve sat down to write and then I get distracted.  Or tired.  Ok, mostly tired.  I really have got to stop having bouts of sarcasm late at night!  It’s very inconvenient for my writing.

Anywho, I sadly have nothing fantastic to report.  It’s burning somewhere.  I know this because the sky is the color of cloudy pee.  And the light that manages to filter through to the ground makes it look like it’s 4:30 p.m.

In November.

Except it’s 9:37 a.m. in July.  NOT GOOD.

Also not good?  Implementing a token system for screen time right before California catches on fire.  I mean, seriously… couldn’t the arsonists have picked a more convenient time to burn?  Like, in 35 days when my kids are back in school and don’t need a personal cruise director?

Other things that are not good:  I got my math book today.  I’m screwed scared.  You know how in that wretched flick “Peggy Sue Got Married” she tells the math teacher she knows for a fact that she’ll never use algebra in her future?  That’s a lie.  Dude, how do you think you figure out how much per pound something is at the grocery store?  Algebra, my friend.  I would like to point out that this is high school level algebra.  Heck, it’s not even that any more.  It’s more like 4th GRADE algebra now!  College algebra though, even the beginning level, definitely has nothing to do with my future.  I promise.  I’m planning on majoring in Nutrition.  Or Anthropology.  Maybe both, if I’m bored enough (HA!).  If I find out either one of them requires any more math than I already comprehend, you can bet I’ll find something else to get edjamucated in!

You know what else sucks?  Planning a fabulous Chinese chicken stir-fry for dinner and then forgetting all about it until you scarf down a bag of PopSecret Homestyle microwave popcorn with a coconut water chaser 45 minutes before dinner.

Speaking of things I suck at… I got some Two Buck Chuck the other day to marinate my tri-tip with.  (I was going to marinate flank steak, but my man Butcher Bob told me that if I like the marinade it doesn’t matter what cut I put it on, it will taste just like I wanted it to.  And tri-tip was MUCH cheaper than flank.)  I was going to start marinating last night, except I don’t have a corkscrew.  I know, I know, it’s hard to imagine why I would possess liquid yeast for bread making but no corkscrew for marinades but it happened.  So Honey went over to Crystal Seth’s house to borrow one.  It did not go well.  The tri-tip is now in the freezer until I can figure out how to get what’s left of the mangled cork out.

On a more positive note… the American Idol 7 Tour is now underway and the sooner it gets over, the sooner my hottie hot hott David Cook can get into the studio and make me some music that sounds like bedroom eyes!

OOH!  I think I’ll end with this little bit of sweetness today:

We’re driving over to Shana the Beautiful’s earlier to watch the kidlins while she runs some errands and Colbie Caillat’s “Bubbly” comes on the radio.  Little D says to me “Mom, this song makes me happeee… This song makes me kissing you!”

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6 thoughts on “Now Watch Me Pull A Rabbit Out Of My Hat!

  1. So first of all I have to tell you that you are hilarious. I am getting a big kick out of reading your blog. Exactly the type of person that I like. Honest and tells it like it is.

    Second, you must be a fabulous cook. Steak, Stir Fry, where do you get the time, patience and talent to do that. My family is thrilled when I add hot dogs to the overcooked macaroni and cheese.

    Third, so sorry about your pee colored skies and you over anxious kiddos. How are your lungs handling it? How is your sanity?

    Hope all is well. You have made my day

  2. God love you. Something I did in your youth stuck. It was Bullwinkle who always said it to Rocky before he pulled out something incredibly weird.

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