The 94th birthday "party" went off without a hitch. I took the train up to my sister's place, we picked up the ankle biters, and were on our way to the land of cheese and outlet shopping, otherwise known as Southeastern Wisconsin. On the way, I introduced my nephew to Kashi's Heart to Heart cereal (and didn't have to see the results of the fiberrific diaper!), and named some breadsticks just to be silly (Beauregard, Millicent, and I can't remember the third...maybe Ferdinand?). I really love those kids, even when they're being little shits. Yes, I said it. They might be cute, but damn, they can turn on you in an instant.
Which reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from Sex & The City, when Samantha calls Brady an asshole, and gets chided by Carrie for it. She is quick to point out that Miranda had recently called her own son a "meatloaf," and if she could do that, then Carrie's scolding was unjustified. I like that logic.
So the birthday lunch was uneventful, save for Bri's inadvertant header into the framing of a swinging glass door. The folks at Perkins (we are klassy like that) gave her a balloon, and suddenly it was like the fall never even happened. Amazing. Also? My sister and her husband bought a new computer, which means she HAD BETTER UPDATE HER BLOG THIS SUMMER, MISSY. I MEAN IT. BECAUSE I SAID SO. NO ONE SAID LIFE WAS FAIR. DON'T HIT YOUR SISTER. I WILL PULL THIS CAR OVER, AND COME BACK THERE, YOUNG LADY.
Ahem.
We finished off the day with my very old grandmother asking me what I thought of the recent Paris Hilton media frenzy, and whether or not I thought she should go back to jail. It cracks me up that a woman who can't hear half of any given conversation is suddenly up to date on all breaking news coming out of LA. She also informed me that she didn't approve of the way Paris Hilton dressed herself. You and me both, Grams. You and me both.
Sunday was race day, and a boring one at that. Stupid Pocono, rained out. What is with all the damn rain this year? If it rains at the Chicagoland event, I will pitch a fit the likes of which the Midwest has never seen! So Sean and I stayed in, got some work done, and I indulged myself in my latest guilty pleasure-slash-obsession, Army Wives on Lifetime. I refuse to watch many shows for fear that I'll become obsessed - those shows include Grey's Anatomy, Top Chef, Survivor, American Idol, and 24. Haven't seen 'em, don't want to...but Army Wives? I'll drop everything to watch it. I'm contradictory like that.
This week is going to be all about rearranging my condo, and cleaning it top to bottom. Also, I plan on spending my evenings enjoying my sweet, sweet internet connectivity. I missed you, my internet.
Which reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from Sex & The City, when Samantha calls Brady an asshole, and gets chided by Carrie for it. She is quick to point out that Miranda had recently called her own son a "meatloaf," and if she could do that, then Carrie's scolding was unjustified. I like that logic.
So the birthday lunch was uneventful, save for Bri's inadvertant header into the framing of a swinging glass door. The folks at Perkins (we are klassy like that) gave her a balloon, and suddenly it was like the fall never even happened. Amazing. Also? My sister and her husband bought a new computer, which means she HAD BETTER UPDATE HER BLOG THIS SUMMER, MISSY. I MEAN IT. BECAUSE I SAID SO. NO ONE SAID LIFE WAS FAIR. DON'T HIT YOUR SISTER. I WILL PULL THIS CAR OVER, AND COME BACK THERE, YOUNG LADY.
Ahem.
We finished off the day with my very old grandmother asking me what I thought of the recent Paris Hilton media frenzy, and whether or not I thought she should go back to jail. It cracks me up that a woman who can't hear half of any given conversation is suddenly up to date on all breaking news coming out of LA. She also informed me that she didn't approve of the way Paris Hilton dressed herself. You and me both, Grams. You and me both.
Sunday was race day, and a boring one at that. Stupid Pocono, rained out. What is with all the damn rain this year? If it rains at the Chicagoland event, I will pitch a fit the likes of which the Midwest has never seen! So Sean and I stayed in, got some work done, and I indulged myself in my latest guilty pleasure-slash-obsession, Army Wives on Lifetime. I refuse to watch many shows for fear that I'll become obsessed - those shows include Grey's Anatomy, Top Chef, Survivor, American Idol, and 24. Haven't seen 'em, don't want to...but Army Wives? I'll drop everything to watch it. I'm contradictory like that.
This week is going to be all about rearranging my condo, and cleaning it top to bottom. Also, I plan on spending my evenings enjoying my sweet, sweet internet connectivity. I missed you, my internet.
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