It's All Fun & Games Until Someone Has to Suck the Poison Out.

Dawn won't let me kill spiders in our room when we go to Africa.



Let me back up a minute and set the stage. First, yes: Dawn and I are roommates during our PEACE trip to Sierra Leone. (Am I excited?, you ask. My pee-my-pants-due-to-happiness meter is off the charts.) And you'd think, naturally, that we would have planned that, but no; it was random. (Or, divinely inspired if you want to look at it like that.)



The next piece necessary to display on this story's stage is the fact that Dawn is a vegetarian and massive animal lover. (She doesn't only love animals massive in size. And Dawn herself is not massive. It's her love for animals that earns that particular size description. And as a side note, over-clarification makes me feel all warm and secure inside.) Because of this, Dawn doesn't condone the killing of any animal when it's unwarranted, and to use her words, she "chooses compassion over cruelty" every time. This is just one of the many things I admire about Dawn. Admire, not agree with.



My thoughts on the matter are, I absolutely agree with not killing when it comes to all those beautiful animals or animals that remind me of dogs. (Sorry - you can't call me superficial if I already called myself that first.) For instance, hunting, killing for the pure "sport" (ego boosting) of it, makes no sense to me. "Wow! That's an enormous elk head you have over your hearth! I guess I never heard about the time you were lost in the wild with no food and then had to resort to killing an animal in order to survive! Oh. That wasn't what happened? You just shot the elk because you could? Was it a war of the minds? Oh. Elk don't have the intelligence level of a human? Ohhhhh, but you got a TROPHY for killing it? Well then, please, carry on. You just go right ahead and keep adding majestic animal heads to your home decor!"

But, there are certain animals (snakes, spiders, anything unpredictable and much too quick) that are so horrendous looking and that have B-movie horror films made of them, that we should all just be a little more understanding toward each other when one of us (me) kills something as freakishly scary as a spider that's large enough to EAT A BIRD! (It's true, Dawn. They exist.) Dawn's technique is to tenderly scoop up a spider on a piece of paper and gently shoo it out into nature. How very idyllic. She's like the Jane Goodall of arachnids.




And since Dawn has seen me kill a few spiders with as much blunt force trauma as what you would usually reserve for cracking a coconut, she knows my feelings about spiders being in my territory. (Or, large cockroaches. Scampering out from behind my office phone. It happened.) And as we've been warned about the possibility of creatures foreign to us showing up uninvited in our rooms in Sierra Leone, I've already told Dawn that cruelty (survival, in my opinion) will most likely wreck compassion when it comes to my "creeped out" level.

So, stay tuned to find out how many times the two of us will be forced to have a little conflict resolution while in Africa based on the number of times I bring a violent death to any and all spiders, snakes, crawling things, etc.

All I know is I, for one, will sleep a lot better.

Just, Michelle

Why I'm Not Sending Christmas Cards This Year

1. It's an expense that, let's face it, ends up in the trash. (With the exception of a few clever scrapbooky types.)

2. I have been an Albertsons Regional Manager for 6 weeks. (cutting into my "free time" outside my 40 hours a week regular job.)

3. Mischa's not, and this frees me from obligatory guilt. (LOVE her!)

4. Much to my chagrin, I'm not feeling super "Christmassey". Not your fault, Dear Potential Card Recipients, I'm just not.

5. I wanted to make cards. Couldn't find any I liked. (*excuse*)

6. Recently spent $100 on postage for Mission Trip letter. (thank you!)

7. Did NOT get awesome labrador photo for card this year.

8. Do not have an amazing "Family Newsletter" to send out. If you feel cheated, here it is:

Dear Friends,
My kid is NOT at Stanford or working with the Peace Corps. Rick and I are well and blessed. My dogs will NOT be at Westminster this year (or ever) but they are not very gassy right now. I recently sold 3 ugly bracelets to pay for wisdom teeth and community college, and feel it was totally worth it. There's a lot to be said for loving your job and your friends. I do, and I do. Not bad. Suck it overachievers.

Merry Christmas!
Love,
Maestas/Sanders

9. It's not you, it's me.

10. I hereby vow to make awesome, personal cards next year. I love you all.

just Dawn (with validation from Mischa.)

Christmas Shopping, et al: Part Deux

In your family, who does the shopping? Who wraps? Who is the BEST gift-buyer? Who is the worst? (Ok, rhetorical, do not list them here.) In my family, I shop, I wrap...(beautifully, I LOVE wrapping!) And I make: cards, crafts, ornaments, and food gifts. I sense an imbalance in the Christmas atmosphere. I am also the family diplomat, photographer, counselor, chef, and pastor. It seems like a lot of responsibility for a cynical, sarcastic, ex-potty-mouthed, ex-wrestling bartender.

Ok, so I do love and serve Jesus. Ok, so I am a bit creative, culinary, and love CHRIST-mas. Ok, so I am a big sentimental sap about Christmas. I'm sure you could conclude that I invite these yearly responsibilities.
Ok, nothing brilliant to say to that. You'd be right. So, that be said, these are a few of my favorite AND (no ILYLD blog would be complete without) my UN-favorite things....

Favorite gift: Many, many to choose from...Clown Marionette from my dad the last Christmas we were together. Beautiful. Fun. He knew what I love. And I freakin' LOVE my sweet clown puppet. Do not DARE say anything....I will shank you.

Worst gift: Matching Elephant candleholders and clock. (Have you MET me?) However, my worst gift, not THE worst gift. My friend "Annabelle" (not her real name) once got a gift of Garage Sale underwear for Christmas with the 25 cent stickers still on them. Winner.

Best gift I ever gave: Hand drawn portrait of my father at age 20 in his dress blues on the Washington DCPD. He had the photo I drew it from made for my mom when they were dating. He cried. (I never saw him cry before.) This was the last Christmas we were together. God knew. I didn't know. (Miss you JR, SO much.)

Worst gift I ever gave: None. I rock at gifts.

Best Christmas story, recent: Rex discovered his love for gifts. Tree set up, presents under, several days before Christmas. Rex "opens" all presents under the tree in gift bags. John thanks me for the new batch of socks, I scold John for "peeking", John informs me that he got home from work and new socks were strewn all over the living room, tissue paper and bags everywhere.

Best Christmas story, past: Johnny, "Mommy, won't Santa get tired of all those cookies? We should make him a big sandwich!" Good thinking, little J! Runner-up in this catagory: my first Christmas at Saddleback! Awesome!!!

Favorite Christmas CD: Charlie Brown Christmas, Vince Guaraldi Trio.

Christmas Music hate: All the crappy Muzak in stores.

Favorite Christmas food: Mom's cashew brittle. (Mom? Do you even read my blog?)

Worst Christmas food: Goose. JK, never had it or would have it. Just sounds funny. Universal worst Christmas food is obviously Meat Pops from Hickory Farms.

Favorite Christmas decoration, year after year: There are so many, but the hands down winner is my stocking. My mom made it for me when I was about 7. It is beautiful. She has made LOTS since then, but mine is the best! (Mom, seriously, you need to read my blog....) In case my brother is reading, MY STOCKING IS THE BEST.

Respond with your favorites and UN-favorites. Misch and I wish you a blessed and Merry Christmas. May the Lord revive and invigorate your generosity, grace, and humor this Christmas season!
Happy Birthday Jesus!

just Dawn

"Holiday Shopping" or "Who Are These People?"

I love on-line shopping. I love mail order catalogues. Since I shop on-line, my name and address has been sold over and over, making me the recipient of a wide variety of catalogues. Come November, there is so much paper in my mailbox, I feel like I should apologize to trees. Sorry trees, I realize that Hickory Farms does not need to market to me. Tell them. I will never eat a "Meat Pop" but I do enjoy looking at the wide variety of cured offerings from HF.

Here are a few of my favorites so far:

~For the foodie on your list: Bacon Salt. Need I say more? Just think popcorn, people.

~Pickle Bandages. (Not made out of pickles.) I just like 'em.

~Sports Logo Snuggie. Me: "John, how about a Raiders Snuggie for Christmas?" John: "OMG!!! Are you #*?!-ing me?? I WANT one!!!" (I think it was a positive reaction.)

~Pet catalogue: Monogrammed orthopedic dog bed-couch for "Large" dogs. Awesome, but at $500 a lttle pricey when Rex will just sneak up on my couch anyway.

~Cashmere socks.

~Sephora Catalogue: Me: "Yes, please." Rick: "Which items, sweetie?" Me: "Yes, please." (He can't ever say I'm hard to shop for.)

~Nieman Marcus Holiday Catalogue: $4,200 Manolo Blahniks.
(Dear NM, We broke up a long time ago. "Broke" being the operative word. Please leave me alone. It just hurts. I'll always love you. Dawn)
Sigh....

With the good comes the bad. Here are some of the items that make the Singing Bass look like a classy, well thought out gift.

~Novelty T-shirt #1. I Married a Nun. Nun in the Morning and Nun at Night. Who wears this?

~Animated Santa. Can't Stop Passing Gas! Here is the catalogue copy: "Rip Von Kringle is tootin' and hootin' his way through the holidays! His legs kick each time he lets one loose!"
Some poor journalism major with $200,000 worth of student loans is questioning the purpose of his existance.

~Book title of the year: "How to Kick Someone's Ass" $12.95
Dang! Now I've wasted 13 years in martial arts classes.

~Novelty T-shirt #2. "I'm not a Gynecologist, but I'll take a look."
If you see someone wearing this, please refer to Book Title of the Year.

~Faeries and Dragons are making a comeback. Good news for the nerds and Emos on your list.

~Skull and Crossbones egg fryer mold. Ok, I like it. Don't judge me.

~Kitty gifts: Kitty Cat plate set, Cat Bottom pencil sharpener (oh just guess!), Cat angel, Plaque that reads: You cannot have too many BOOKS or CATS. Cat-Opoly, all methos of cat-themed jewelry and Cat-lady statuettes.
(Kill me before I get there, please friends.)

~Novelty T-shirt #3. CSI Can't Stand Idiots.
Considering who would wear this t-shirt, does this count as irony?

Oh I could go on and on....Lighted Musical Elvis Tree Topper, Darth Vader Lamp, Mooning Party Shorts (don't ask), Remote Control Fart Machine, "Jeans" Lounge Pants (actual jeans too dressy for some folks?) Nose Shower Gel dispenser, Family Guy shot glasses.

Oh I do love catalogues. They elicit a response....sparkly, glowing. Warm, luxurious, homey. They are full of things we don't need, but we wish someone would buy for us. See: Sephora (did I mention that already?) Victoria's Secret, Ikea, Williams Sonoma.
The flip side of that coin is any catalogue with Simpsons merchandise, bunion cream, or "Collectible" anything. Kitch and clutter make me have anxiety attacks. White trash pride makes me wish I were Hispanic. Or Asian. Or anything not associated with a redneck joke. (No such thing as an Asian redneck.)

I wish you joy in your holiday shopping this year. Whether "Old School" mall shopping, surfing the net, or throwin' elbows on Black Friday, choose well, friends.
Oh! And If I'm on your list, there's always Sephora!

just Dawn

The Funny Continues... (And it's Name is Dawn.)

This isn't breaking news by any means, but Dawn is pretty funny. And clever. Funny and clever. And pretty. Funny, clever, pretty....let's see.....,that's enough for now. The problem is, this isn't news to her either. Which means Dawn clearly doesn't get as impressed with her humor as I do, which is why pretty much on a constant basis, I'm yelling at her, "PUT THAT ON OUR BLOG! No, seriously. Do it, or I'll claim I came up with that funny bit myself. And then I'll be funny AND shrewd."

So that's why today's post is nothing more than a chance for me to draw attention to Dawn's latest show of cleverness....since she most likely won't believe my threat of shanking her unless she puts this on our blog. This is from her Facebook status (One thing of note: Dawn refers to where she lives as The Woods since she has a few more tall trees bearing a wider girth around her house than she previously had.):

Dear Verizon, I offer my own driveway for a cell phone tower. Please contact me (via landline) to let me know when. Residents of The Woods, you're welcome. Signed, Can You Hear Me Now.

And that, my friends, is how you do "witty."

Signed, Yours Shrewdly, Michelle

"Celebrity" obsessed!

I am having a few thoughts, and rants, as it turns out lately regarding our celebrity-rabid culture.

Sports hero worship: This one makes me crazy. Generally, professional athletes are egomaniacal, obscenely overpaid, classless, and completely catered to by everyone who stands to make a buck off of them. (Not you, Peyton!) Total "lipstick-on-a-pig" syndrome. I almost can't blame them. Everyone in their life has told them how great they are because of some form of skill with a ball. Attention Little League parents! Please instill some sort of value in your child beyond sports! Stop living vicariously through little Jimmy, the 4th grade shortstop! If you are a professional, overpaid, athlete, please stop shoplifting, driving drunk, buying weed from two-bit dealers in your old neighborhood, fathering random children all over the place, and dog fighting. (Enjoy hell, Mr. Vick.) You can afford drivers, clothing, purses, and condoms.
I'm going to add a pet peeve to this catagory. Grown men in professional sports jerseys. Bad if your jersey says "Bryant" on the back. Worse if it says your own name. Rule of thumb: If you are over 15, not on the actual team, or not the parent of someone on the actual team, STOP IT. I snicker at you.

Dancing With the Stars: Not the show, per se, just the name of the show. DWTS, you are playing a little fast and loose with the word "Stars". To me, a star is talented. Their screen persona is larger than life. There is something special about their movies. (Sorry Johnny Knoxville, this criteria disqualifies you.) A "Star" is Clint Eastwood, Leonardo DiCaprio. To me a star is luminous, mysterious, and has a quality of inner beauty. (Oh Kardashian gals, you're out.) A "Star" is Meryl Streep, Reese Witherspoon, Angelina Jolie. DWTS, if you could get these folks on your show I'd be ok with your name. But The Situation, Chuck Lidell, Kate Gosslin? Maybe we should call it: Dancing with White Trash in Skimpy Costumes....DWWTISC. I have a call in to ABC.

Reality Celebre': The fact that anyone knows the name of who "won" the last Bachelor makes me want to hurl. Show premise: Women line up to get some dopey rich guy to marry them. Much spit-swapping. Gross. "Mom, I'm competing with 2 dozen desparate, insecure, celebrity wanna be's to get some guy to marry me!" Yeah, I wanna make that call. Brett Michael's Rock of Love takes this concept beyond gross, into repugnant. And Jersey Shore Cast...when did being a loud mouthed blowhard from New Jersey, of all American armpits, make you red-carpet worthy? At least Fran Drescher was attractive. I'm not saying all reality shows are bad, just most of them. Want greed, pouting, and petulance? Tune in to Say Yes to the Dress. Want titalation and drag queens? Ru Paul's Drag Race. Want backbiting, bitchy, and entitled? Try on Project Runway or The Apprentice. Potential for injury? Check out Wipeout. (Ok, this one is freaking hilarious.) Shock value, pity, and an "OMG!" or two? Teen Mom, anything with Dr. Drew, or Sister Wives. We are truly a nation of cultureless culture when this is our contribution to the arts. I throw a figurative brick at my television.

Hollywood: I am not obsessed with Hollywood. I am largely unipressed by celebrity opinions, causes, or political preferences. I got a call this morning with a recorded message from Martin Sheen, urging me to vote for some candidate. Martin, I should heed your sage advice, why? Because you have done such a bang up job with your own household? How's that hooker, trashed hotel room, drug fueled rampage working out for Charlie? Oh, I know Martin, because you played the President in a TV show. Of course! Martin, you have insulted my intelligence beyond comprehension. I now snicker at you too.
Oprah, Sean Penn, Johnny Depp, please just shut up. Go be talented. I will continue to enjoy your performances. I will not look to you for advice, validation, or a political opinion. You are not necessarily smarter than me. (Ok, Oprah, you probably are.)

I know, not all celebrities are jerks. To those of you with class, grace, style, morals, and brains, the word "Star" is reserved for you. But I'm still probably not going to vote for your candidate.......

just Dawn

Some People are Pretty Clever. (And it's not us this time.)

The other day, Dawn said she saw a t-shirt that said, "No one reads your blog." I thought this was impressively funny and clever. And so, in the spirit of irony, I thought we blog owners should write a post for our blog about a shirt broadcasting the fact that most likely, no one is reading our blog.

We like clever stuff, so if anyone has another example like the t-shirt example, feel free to post a comment. It'll be fun because it will point out the ironic fact that, yes, someone is indeed reading our blog.

And then we'll all laugh, and laugh some more.

Just Michelle