I think I have the vapors...

So it is official, I kinda suck at writing a blog. I am more tardy in my postings that I would like and I feel like my high school English teacher Mrs. Federovitch would have an aneurysm if she ever read it. But after great dinner and conversation with my bestie this evening I decided that I would come home a write the most clever, intelligent, and thought-provoking blog post so far. However, I came home and tragedy struck:

Mom: I am not sure if I like this perfume. It is a little to flowery for my taste.

Me: I'll try it later.

Mom: Just a little bit...

Me: Mom, wait. NO! Not now! Too much! Too much!

I now have a headache and a personal vendetta against Faith Hill and her hideous perfume.

Sleep tight one-and-all and dream of amazing blog posts in the future.

P.S. I love the undo command. ;)

Lily

I heart you!

Happy Valentine's Day!

Love Lily and the Hoff.

Pie eaters anonymous

Since the 1st of November my beloved and well used Honda civic wagon has been sitting in the driveway with an expired tag. The reasoning behind it was here in the Atlanta metropolitan area all cars need to be emissions tested so that we don’t destroy the environment with too much pollution from our cars. My car hasn’t passed on the first try the last three or four years. So in my mind, I knew, I KNEW that this car wasn’t going to pass on the first try. You can only get it re-tested once for free as long as it is within 30 days from the initial testing. Well lots of things were due around that time and my car is the least important out of the three cars so it got put off. We could pay to get it tested just not to have whatever repairs, which were inevitable, that were needed to get it to pass. November came and went. December came and went. And all the while my little car sat there. Dirty and un-used. Finally last week when we had another cold front and it took us 30 minutes to eventually get Mom’s car started, and consequently she missed the bus. We decided that it was time to get the car tested to get a rough idea what needed to be fixed in order for it to pass. When I went to my neglected car I opened the door to find over 5 inches of standing water on the floor behind the driver’s seat. Great. It smelled fabulous by the way. As I was talking to the testing guy about how the car sat under a tree for almost 3 months he gave me the biggest shock I have had in a long while. THAT STUPID CAR PASSED ON THE FIRST TRY!!!!!!!!!!! Blast! Blast! Blast! I knew, I KNEW that dumb car wouldn’t pass, and I was wrong. There, I was wrong, I can admit it. Now I need to go and eat humble pie, crow pie, or some other kind of pie that makes you feel better about having your car sit in the driveway for three months for no good reason.

Lily

Why I want to be buried with my glasses on

In my previous post I remarked on the breast cancer pink ribbons on the waistband of my new underwear. Well upon further examination today I realized that they are not pink ribbons at all! There are indeed pink marks on the waistband, but they are the letters “jms,” not ribbons. Great, not only do I wear granny panties, but I am going blind. I hate not being able to see things correctly without my contacts or glasses. Although not wearing them has made for some pretty funny stories.

Here is one of my favorites:

A couple of years ago we were having problems with our dishwasher. It wasn’t draining. My dad took off the bottom part of the dishwasher to get at the hose that was clogged so he could snake it. Halfway through the repair he left to go to Utah with my mom. Well one morning while they were gone I got up and went into the kitchen and saw that there was what appeared to be little mice droppings in front of the dishwasher at its gaping hole at the bottom. I called my dad, waking him up, and demanding that he return home to kill the mouse. For some silly reason he did not share the same urgency I did for him to return and deal with the rodent. J He gave me a couple of options on how to deal with it. None of which I felt were appropriate. As I was contemplating which of the guys in the singles ward were capable of dealing with this emergency and not passing out, I gave up and left the kitchen, never to return. That is never to return until it had been burned down and re-built, leaving no trace of the trespasser or his crime. But eventually my stomach got the better of me and I entered the kitchen with trepidation and ironically, my glasses on. I glanced in the direction of the crime scene and noticed that it didn’t look quite like it did early that morning. There was no mouse poop! They were just the black screws that my dad left on the floor after removing the bottom panel from the dishwasher. I called my father who was grateful that he didn’t cut his trip short for his hysterical daughter. Ah the joys of being blind.

Lily