Wicked Smart

There is something about drag queens that makes it impossible not to smile. They are like clowns for adults (and I mean that in the most respectful way possible-to clowns and drag queens alike.) I will gladly go to any event held anywhere by anyone if they promise a man in a pink wig with fake ta-tas. Screw the nasty male strippers, for my bachelorette party I want drag queens and bingo!

Don't I have the cutest godson ever????

I heart the Soundwave. P.S. I am not the girl in this video, nor am I the person taking the video who is obviously very obsessed with the girl. I just think it's a cool version of The Uprising.

Canada tried to kill me. It tried to sneak into my intestines and rip them out little by little from pretty much any orifice possible. I woke up Sunday night with that terrible feeling of dread. You all know that feeling, where you realize something unnatural is going to occur and soon your pie-hole is going to become a pie-spigot for everything you have consumed in the previous twelve months? It is honestly the worst experience ever. The only thing which makes that event bearable is knowing that once it's over and done with you immediately feel better, but that was not the case this time. With this horrible Canadian bug all I felt was like getting up an hour later and doing it again. The only thing I managed to do Monday was lay in bed clutching my barf bucket and sleep, then get up to vomit. It took me two days to get down a half sleeve of saltines and can of chicken noodle soup. This is why I have decided we need to forget about border patrol and invest in a giant North American

Happy Birthday to You! You live in a zoo. You look like a monkey and you smell one too! What better way to show my love for my brother on his birthday than to post embarrasing childhood photos of him on my blog?

This week marks the end of the annual tulip festival in Snohomish County. Although I think the photos that come from it are gorgeous, I couldn't imagine going up every year or traveling from afar to visit it, even though I know plenty of people who do. I do think it's worth it to go up at some point though, they are really stunning when they are in full bloom.

I went up to Langley, B.C. today with my friend Bethany and her family to visit the new LDS temple. It was exciting for me simply because I fully realize that will be the only time in my life I'll ever get to see the inside of a Mormon temple. As someone who loves to explore different subsets of culture, it was fascinating to walk through something that is, once "Mormonized", completely off limits to the general public (and a good portion of their own church). (I also don't know what the ceremony is called that turns the temple from "open to the public" to "sacred" so "Mormonized" it is.) The drive up was actually pretty fun, even if it meant I had to get up at 6am to be at their house by 7. On a Saturday. A day when I fully believe 7am should not exist. The best part was as we approached the border the conversation turned to who in their family snored. Bethany swore she didn't snore, but Eric wasn't having any of that, so, usin

I was so excited yesterday about The Great Staples Falicy that I kind of skimmed over my mother's birthday. Since she taught me better than that, today's post is just for her. So once again, Happy Birthday Mom!!! My mom is the best mother that's ever lived, not that I'm biased or anything. She is nice and kind. Always giving, very warm-hearted (unless she is hungry or tired, and then she is some kind of crazed banshee and it's best to find a table or chair you can hide behind until she passes by). She is also quite funny in her own right, but noone let her know or she'll tell more jokes about mustard or about me giving her grandchildren (though that last one might not be a joke...). Plus she knows a lot of my secrets (including that one thing I made her do in the McDonald's parking lot that one time, but we don't talk about that). Bottom line is I love my mom very much and hope she had the best birthday ever!

In honor of Earth Day, Staples sent us our rolls of bubble wrap packaged in plastic air pockets. Captain Planet would be so disappointed. P.S. Happy Birthday Mom!!!!

This is the only picture of a cow I had on my hard drive, and it's actually from something my friend Krista sent me about cows who have been abducted by aliens. (Anywhoooo....) What it's doing on here, besides taking it's place as picture of the day because I apparently forgot to take a picture and it's a week later (zip it) is acting as the photographic representation of the documentary I watched; Food, Inc. It was very fascinating and slightly disturbing, but not for the same reasons it probably was to most people. For me, I already knew what sort of conditions our chickens and cows were subjected to. I have read The Jungle by Upton Sinclair, I know farmers, I am well versed in that whole, for lack of a better word, "situation". And I can look the other way because when push comes to shove, I like meat. I enjoy throwing a chicken breast on the grill or making some cute boy buy me an overpriced steak at The Met (and yes, The Met will always kick El Gaucho

So. I apparently got a really good deal on all the stuff pictured here. I couldn't really tell you what I paid or break down how I did it (though I can tell you, it was with coupons!). This is probably why you aren't supposed to wait 8 days to post blogs while in the midst of a project like mine. Oops. And it's probably not an effective way to convince you all to coupon as truth be told I put the chips in my pantry and had completely forgotten about them until this evening when I just posted this. But, in my defense, what a way to diet! Step 1: Buy crappy food, like chips, for cheap. Step 2: Put in pantry. Step 3: Forget about chips. Step 4: Exercise. Lots of exercise (and water). Step 5: Lose weight. Step 6: Look so great in skinny jeans you don't feel the slightest bit upset at the money (albeit TINY bit of money) spent on crappy food, like chips.

Yep. I'm definitely getting stupider. Example #1: A few weekends ago I somehow got shampoo up my nose while showering. The following day I got toothpaste up the other nostril. Example #2: I recently gave myself a heart attack when I stepped on a piece of bubble wrap . Example #3: While getting gas the other day I committed the following infractions: * Parked too far back so moved car forward * Moving car forward resulted in my parking rightnext to the pole so I couldn't open my door * Moved car back and got out * Realized that gas tank is on the other side of my car (this is not a new or borrowed car, mind you) * Moved to other gas pump * Got out and realized I had parked too far forward * Had to hold gas pump tight so it would fit because I WAS NOT moving my car again! * Pushed "no" when asked if I wanted a receipt, forgetting that I have been trying to keep track of what all I spend my money on * Finish pumping gas and go to building to ask for a receipt * Walk arou

I didn't realize John Lithgow played in the MLS! Crazy!!

-- Really? So last season our Sounders season tickets were in the worst section in the entire stadium. Our section was filled with losers. Losers who apparently had two broken legs and suffered from laryingitis and a fear that if they clapped or cheered it would awaken demon spirits from Pandora's box. So we moved. We are in a much more fun section this year. People stand for all 90 minutes, they are loud and rambunctious. They jump up and down, clapping rythmically with the drum. The nice thing is my seat is on the very end of a row, and the row in front of us starts one seat over, so there is noone sitting in front of me, so when I get dizzy and start feeling sick (like today) or am just plain lazy, I can sit down and still see everything going on on the pitch. Except for the one minor detail that would be the jackasses in front of me. For some reason the 4 pompous alcoholics who sit in seats 1-4 one row closer to the field feel that standing in front of their own actual

Nothing says Summer (Okay, fine, SPRING) like bbq and lemonade.

I quite possibly just had a heart attack. After several weeks of slowly going through each box/bin/drawer/closet/cabinet in my house to declutterize, I am finally finished. I have a pile of boxes with items to take down to my parents house for their garage sale in the living room, along with some boxes I had emptied so broke them down and put them in the storage closet on my deck. A few even had bubble wrap in them, hooray! Like all Americans, I adore bubble wrap so it has really taken every ounce of will in my body to not sit there and pop it all. Today, I was putting the last of the "keep" bins back in the storage closet. I had to readjust my weight to push the tub up onto the shelf when suddenly there was a loud *Bang*, obviously the sound of a car backfiring. Even though I live in a pretty affluent area, that sound is very similar to a gunshot, so the natural instinct is to dive for cover. That, however, is not really an option when you are essentially holding a 20

-- Coming soon... Backstreet Boys in a box! Don't forget to look in your frozen food section for New Kids on the Block in original and tropical flavor!

Forget Japanese. I've eaten so many tacos I'm turning Mexican. Me: Dude Amanda: Dude! Me: Duuuuuuude! Amanda: Dude Where's my Car?!?!? Me: No more and then! Amanda: Mak! Wait...I'm gunninto that tune! Me: LSOMSFOAIDMT Amanda: All I gotta say is WTF? Me: Lauging so hard my sombrero fell off and I dropped my taco Amanda: Hahahahaha! LMAO Me: I thought you might like that Amanda: Are you kidding me? I LOVE IT! *PS, I had an actual picture from today but for some reason Blogger didn't want to upload it so I found this one. It will do.*

So I'm sure everyone is a bit sick of the Sounders pictures. And, although I aim to please, I'm really only interested in pleasing myself so you all are just gonna have to deal! :) (Hmm. That kind of sounded dirty. I didn't really mean it that way.) Today was the kind of day Ice Cube sang about only with fewer derogatory Goodyear blimp messages and references to guns. I live in Seattle, not South Central afterall. (Is it just me or does blimp look weird? It's kind of a weird word in general. Blimp. Bli-mp. Bliiiimp.) I got to get up early and drive into Seattle where I sat in a tiny studio in the back (really should have actually worn Sounders gear so I would have made it on the telly)(I also feel like this blog could use some more parantheses.)(But maybe that's just me.) and watch my husband be interviewed for the new local show. You can view some of the interview here . The tickets said something about how no pictures were allowed to be taken during the tapi

I went with my oldest sister to see The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo today. I had given her the book for Christmas, in the hopes of making her a convert to the Swedish literary cult. It really didn't take much. As soon as she read it she understood. We both were very excited to see it and it was nice that it was playing on the eastside so we didn't have to go all the way downtown to the ghetto. Getting shot at and having my car stolen while watching a movie doesn't really seem like a good time to me. Call me crazy. We both really enjoyed it, even if it was all in Swedish. The funniest part was prior to the show, the girl from the theater came in to do her little speil and someone in the audience actually asked "Are there subtitles?" Reggie and I just looked at each other and were like "No, we all just know Swedish." I'm not really going to go too far into it, as I know other people are anxious to see it, but I do want to say that I wasn't too

Have I ever mentioned I love Seattle on sunny days?

Single people should never make tacos. The problem isn't in the making of the tacos. They are quick, cheap and easy. The problem is that it's impossible to split the recipe, thereby forcing you to eat tacos for the rest of your natural life or until you get so annoyed, you banish the items to the back of the fridge and wait until they produce penicillin that you can hawk on the black market. And I'm sure some of you are going to say, well why not just use 1/2 lb of meat instead? But, dear readers, you cannot do that because then you would have to split the spice packet of taco seasoning and can of tomato sauce and that confusion can only lead to taco pandemonium. Nope, the only surefire way to avoid total chaos is to make the normal amount and suffer through the endless days of Mexican overload that follow. Ugh.

Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess in a faraway town on the west coast of the USA. She was humble princess, a giving princess. She was loved by all. One day this princess, whom we will call Ramie, was lazing about while looking through advertisements brought to her by an inconsequential servent paper boy. Suddenly, Princess Ramie arose from her comfy seat, overcome with shock and excitement over what was laid out before her on the page. It was a product like no other! It seemed that some magically inclined being had merged two snacks together, forming a hybrid known as the coconut M&M. What wizard had created such a masterpiece? Princess Ramie knew she must have these coconut M&Ms at once and called up the all-knowing, all-seeing soothsayer Google of Mountain View to show her where they may be obtained. Sadly, Google of Mountain View told Princess Ramie: "You ask for treats of coconut, mixed with chocolate candy but, this is no happy, tasty rhyme, they o

Wow. When they say "sample" they mean sample. This has to be the tiniest thing to ever come from Costco!

When I arrived at work this morning, Carrie and Shannon were standing in the fishbowl, Shannon with her hand out, palm up, while Carrie held a ring dangling from a chain above it. I've heard about people using that trick to determine the sex of their baby before, so my first thought was "NOOOOOO! Shannon knows I will kick her smack in the hiney if she gets knocked up this year!" Turns out Carrie had heard at a party last weekend how people did it to determine the gender and number of future kids. Future. As in you don't have to be currently pregnant. As in Shannon is spared...for now. So after determining Shannon's parental future (3 boys, 1 girl), Carrie did it for Aimee (2 boys, 1 girl) and Diane (3 boys, 1 girl). She couldn't do it to me as I'm not married and as they teach on 7th Heaven, no unmarried girl has ever gotten pregnant unless she's a sleazy whore. Later that day I was talking to a friend over IM about the party trick and the conver

Because you’re my friend… When you are sad,………….I will get you drunk and help you plot revenge against the scum sucking bastard/bitch who made you sad. When you are scared,……… I will laugh at you and tease you about it every chance I get. When you are worried,………I will tell you how much worse it could be and to quit complaining. When you are confused,……..I will use little words to explain it to your dumb ass. When you are sick………I will hold your hair while you pay homage to the porcelain God. When you fall……I will point and laugh at your clumsy ass. This is my oath……………I pledge till the end. Why you may ask?…………..Because you’re my friend.

My mother gets bored easily. I know what you are thinking, "Wow, Jamie, that's so unlike you. You NEVER get bored, you must be adopted!" but shockingly enough, it's true. She is my real mom and she gets bored. But, unlike me, she gets bored and tries to F up the holiday menus. She keeps trying to serve lame things like roast or Cornish hens for Easter, and I keep having to remind her that having anything besides ham on that Sunday is blasphemous. So, in an effort to defy my authority (I'm the youngest child, anyone who thinks the youngest child doesn't have full control of the house, even 10 years after moving out, is gravely mistaken)she serves ham but tries to mix it up by making some other dish differently. This year it was the potatoes that took the hit. I can't even explain what they were really. Sort of like potatoes Au Gratin but made with like cream of mushroom soup or something equally disgusting with this crispy crust which she later told me was

-- It's a good thing I got over my temporary rain phobia because Saturday was a kick in the pants. (I threw that old timey expression in there so a certain "29-year-old" would feel right at home reading my blog. You've gotta throw the old timers a bone every once in awhile.) Shannon's husband Tim and dearly departed Amanda joined us at the game, which made it hysterical as they are both drunks. Side-achingly funny drunks, but glug glug none the less. Everyone was concerned about the clouds that showed up late afternoon, so Tim made it a point to dig around and find some ponchos he had. Finally, someone who is a bigger rain wuss than me and Shannon! He's my kind of people! Well, he was my kind of people until he placed the rolled up ponchos strategically under his jacket after the game and rubbed up against Amanda and I, doing a little drunk dance. Then, him and Amanda proceeded to sashay down the ramp, swinging their hips so far left to right it would

Okay, here's the deal. I'm from Seattle originally. I love it here. On sunny days, I am utterly convinced that there isn't a more beautiful place in the world than the Puget Sound, and I'm perfectly content to take the days and days of rain necessary to achieve those natural aesthetics. Most of the time. Truth be told, I actually kind of love the rain. I love the smell of it. I love the energy of a big storm before it rolls in. I really enjoy the sound of rain as it falls on the roof and deck. I'm known to open the door and windows a crack to be able to hear it. And it lulls me to sleep to listen to rain trickling down. The rain doesn't prevent me from doing anything I want to do. Honestly, if I waited until the rain stopped to do something, it would never get done. And I'm okay with that. I'm okay with all of that. Most of the time. Some of the time, though... Some of the time I hate the rain. I hate driving in it, but really that's le

So the new roomies arrived today. They are this cute Thai family who are moving back after several years back in Thailand. It is the parents and their 9 year old daughter. I know it's crazy, especially considering the three of them are all sharing 1 bedroom and 1 bathroom but it makes a lot of sense for both me and them. They need somewhere to stay long enough to find jobs, save money, buy the necessary items etc and I just need someone to pay 1/2 the rent until my lease is up in a couple of months. Today, I came back on my lunch break and let them in. The daughter, K, had made me this necklace as a thank you/nice to meet you present. It was so cute! She seems really nice, the whole family does actually. It may not be the most ideal living situation but I think it could actually turn out okay.