Happy birthday boyfriend.

Today is Ben's 26th birthday- hooray! Unfortunately, we both have to work all day, but we started birthday celebrations this morning and will resume the festivities after work today.

The celebrating began at 6 am with cake (pictured below), presents, a fabulous breakfast, and the golf channel. Yes, that is a golf cake.

Here are a few (not 26) reasons why Ben is so cool:

- he has adorable orange hair. He hates it when I call him ginger though.

- he thinks up really fun games, such as "quadripalegic." FYI, there is nothing sexual about that game. Just so you know.

- he's a wonderful provider and works his butt off with little to no complaining.

-he allows me to be me, which includes my over-active need to shop and decorate. He just rolls his eyes and lets me be.

- he loves our cats just as much as I do, even though he likes people to think that he hates them.

Happy Birthday BenjaMan! I love you!

The struggle, among other things.

First thing's first, let me address the struggle. This refers to Ben desperately wanting a dog (not just any dog- a boxer) and me refusing to add another pet to our home. I would rather gain 20 pounds than have a dog. Ben asks for a dog every dang day.

Must not give in.

Life has been great otherwise. Hung out with some girlfriends on Friday night- they're no longer vfriends, they're rfriends. I love having conversations with these girls- hermaphrodites, dental exams, family drama... no conversation is off-limits.

In pet news, Moo was stung by a bee yesterday. The bee flew in our front door, and Moo pounced on it. Seconds later, Moo yelped and ran away shaking his paw. Poor little dear.

And there you have it.

Something just clicked.

"They're not even real cops! They're strippers! Look how hot they are!" -Gob Bluth

Ok. I really am not about publicly making fun of people I don't really know (good friends are always game though), but I finally had a realization about a certain bailiff/deputy something that I always see in court.

This certain bailiff is all muscled out, tan, and seems to think he's pretty hot. Except that he's not. I've always wondered where he got his inspiration for his look and then it hit me.

He must be a fan of Arrested Development. Where else would he have learned about how awesome it is to be a "hot cop?"

Scrapbook Expo take 2.

This past weekend I had my second go at Scrapbook Expo with my friends Allison and Jaime.

We spent Thursday night in Sandy before arriving at the Expo center at 5:45 am Friday morning. I'm really not that hard core, but my friends are, and they drag me along.

A highlight was being picked to be on channel 13 news and getting some free scrapbook stuff. After the news clip aired I received a call from Ben saying that my mouth was hanging open during the tv clip. Nice.

Now I just have to look forward to the next Expo, which is in March.

The most embarassing moment of my life.

This moment occurred in 2005 while working as a sales associate at Dillard's.

The store usually has a regular music mix that plays all day long for months on end. This day, a new mix was playing. Apparently a co-worker of mine had brought her own mix and it was playing in the store. I did not know this. I thought the cd came from corporate.

Halfway through my day, I saw said co-worker on the floor. There was a terrible song playing. I said to her, "I can't stand this song, I wish it wasn't on the store cd." She smiled at me and asked me why I didn't like the song. I said," I don't know... I think it's the singer's voice. It's really bad. Who sings this song?" And then she said it. "Me. I recorded it."

My jaw dropped. My face went red. I considered turning away and running in the other direction. Severe embarrassment. Could I please crawl in a hole? Now?

How do you come back from something like that? I just apologized and told her that if I had any idea that it was her singing I wouldn't have ever said a word.

This girl and I did not talk much after this event, although word of my faux pas traveled throughout the store in record time. Ouch.

Tagged

Stacey tagged me for some random photos. The rule was no cleaning prior to pictures- boo.

My fridge

Inside the fridge. Moo's looking for a bite to eat.

My sink

Toilet. Sweet linoleum, right?

My closet

My favorite shoes- my Jessica Simpson's

Favorite room- our reading room/guest room.

Photos of my children- obviously I don't have any, so my cats will have to do. Here's Oscar.

And Moo.

Dream vacation

Self portrait. I worked 11 hours today- can you tell?

I tag Sarah C., Lindsay A., and Allison A.

Should I be flattered?

Yesterday I got a knock at my door. I opened it and saw a 12 year old kid looking back at me.

"Are your parents home?" he asked.

"Nope, they don't live here," I answered. I just stared at him and waited for him to connect the dots. It only took about 5 seconds of staring at each other, saying nothing.

"So this is your house," he concluded.

He then tried to sell me something, which I promptly shot down (this is great progress for me, as I used to feel obligated to buy stuff from anyone selling door-to-door junk).

Seriously, do I look young enough to be living with my parents? I'm a little flattered to be thought of as young, but a little irritated all the same.

My dangerous new hobby is...

Racquetball!

Ben took me to play racquetball yesterday night- he has played before, but I was a first-timer. I must say, this is the most dangerous sport I take part in. Much more high risk than yoga and running.

I seriously feared for my face during our hour in the racquetball room. Getting hit in the face with the ball seemed inevitable, thus breaking my nose, giving me a black eye, or busting my lip. Ben didn't seem to understand me when I said (and yelled), "Hit the ball soft! I'm not a boy! Treat me like a girl!"

I sustained one very minor injury though- Ben hit the ball as hard as he could (again, forgetting about hitting softly), the ball bounced off the wall, and hit me square in the stomach. Ouch. I now have a large welt on my tum.

All things considered, it was a really fun time and a great workout, but I think that I would like to invest in a face mask before playing again.

Purse Envy.

I'm am coveting this purse from MZ Wallace big time. Anyone want to contribute to the purse fund?

My Favorite Things: A Love Story, part 3

Not having any phone messages at work. I get so excited when I walk into my office at the beginning of the day, look at my phone, and do not see a blinking red light. The light indicates messages. Messages=stress. The fewer calls I have to return the better.



This TV show. I don't know why I love it- it's just about transforming filthy, cluttered houses into cute, organized ones. Nicey Nash, the show's host, is really spunky and always says funny things about the house being a hot mess and uses the word "mayhem" a lot.





My new dining room table! The dining set Ben and I had was seriously on it's last leg (no pun intended). We got it for free a few weeks after getting married and I have hated it for about 3 years. The chairs were very ghetto and it really wasn't my style. It was country cottage, which is not me. No, no. Fear not, because our new dining set is very me. I am in love with it and am even more in love with Ben for letting it come home with us.

Open mouth, insert foot.

Here's a lovely husband/wife dialogue that took place today:

Ben: I'm going to take out the trash.

Me: Ok, it's really heavy. (It was.)

Ben: You're heavy! (said in a "booyah" tone)

The next 5 minutes were spent listening to Ben doing damage control. "You're not heavy, I just said that out of habit. Like me saying 'Your mom' or 'That's what she said' in response to what you said. I don't think you're heavy.... blah blah blah."

The kicker was Ben saying, "This is something to blog about, huh?"

Two things.

First, this is what I came home to this afternoon after a quick trip to Roberts Craft. Very cute I think.

Second, I've had it up to here (hand is above my head) with my stupid cowlick. I thought that only short-haired people had to deal with them. I try to smooth it down with hair spray or other product, but then it just looks dirty. Grrr....
That's all.

Rockstar.

Way to be awesome boyfriend. You're definitely cooler than me today.

Looking for a place to live?

Only closeted bodybuilders need apply.

http://provo.craigslist.org/apa/817773101.html

Props to Sarah for telling me about this one.

What's going to happen if you don't fit their criteria? They're not going to let you rent?