|
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
|
|
What do Captain Hook and Mr. Potato Head have in common?
|
Looks like it's time to post again. Almost a week has gone by. It is so lasered that when I first started this blog, all I could do was post, post, post, and now I'm lucky if I get a post each week. I guess life has just slowed down.
Okay, so seeing as how I have no inspiring thoughts today, I'm taking a poll. Or whatever. Pick something for me to write about. I will oblige you. *You can pick out the title of the blog post or the topic. (Just tell me which it is.) And we'll see who lends themselves most to inspiration. :)
**For now, I'll write about mustaches. Mustaches are weird feeling when your dad kisses your cheek. Ever felt them? They're weird and scratchy. I'm glad I'm a girl, 'cuz it would be even weirder to have one. I don't think I like mustaches.
They're cute on smiley faces, though.
And there's lots of different kinds. There's the Groucho Marx mustache (whose real name, BTW, was Julius Henry Marx). You can imitate this by hot-glue-ing a black comb to your upper lip. (Don't try this at home kids.)
There's the handle bar kind. I wonder what they called them before bicycles came out?
Then there's the funny little kind that Antonio Banderas wears in the Zorro movies. The kind that come off with soap. :) Those are the kind that girls wear when they're dressing up for a costume party or a skit, right Cara? Boy, the way we misuse our makeup sometimes . . .
There's also the funky Captain Hook mustache.
And last, but not least-- the Mr. Potatohead look! Dum-ta-da!! This one I particularly love!
So there you have it--my opinions on mustaches.
*Be creative.
**Forgive me. I'm having an off day. |
posted by cori
9/13/2006 04:24:00 PM
|
| |
|
-
Guys, c'mon. Be inspiring.
-
Inspiring? Ummmmmm *thinks really hard* nothing. *tries to be inspiring* still nothing. What about..........write about your cell phone? Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, *tries again*. My brain is dead. I just took a catnap, I'll never sleep tonight! I know! Write about sleepless nights! :-) No? Ok. What about the terrible effects chocolate-covered custard-filled donuts have on your body? That wonderful first cup of coffee in the morning? Um, I think I'll quit now. Sorry if I wasn't any help! :-D
-
I see you haven't gotten any good creative ideas yet. Sowwie!
Hey, your scrapbook isn't working for me. I keep getting a "Page not found" error. Weird....
|
|
| << Home |
|
|
|
|
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
|
|
Stripey T-shirts
|
*Disclaimer: Please excuse any non-capitalized or misspelled words, as the keyboard on this laptop is not as sensitive as the keyboard on the pc. I'll try to correct the mistakes, but you know how is. :)
*ahem*
Life started at seven Monday morning. The first thing I forgot to do was email Yuriy with directions to the house. The next thing I forgot to do was iron my picnic clothes for later. I always believe in doing everything last minute. If it wasn't for the last minute, nothing would ever get done. :)
The first thing I remember (after forgetting my ironing), was Mom asking to borrow the squeezy gun for the devilled eggs. You know, the Pampered Chef squeezy thing that you scoop all the yellow stuff in and it comes out in star shapes on the other end? It's like a cookie press, only not for cookies.
The next thing I remember was getting online to email Yuriy, and being so blown away by seeing that all the emails in the inbox were for me. That's like, never happened before. If there's more than one new mail, it's for James or Dad. But I got three that morning and was so overwhelmed and excited that I forgot why I got connected and forgot to email directions to those who needed them most. (sorry!)
Cutting pickles, baking beans, thawing hamburgers, mowing the volleyball court, moving picnic tables, rolling forks in napkins, cutting tablecloths, filling coolers, drinking tea (forgive me, D, had to have something to go on), calling Davises, planning food menu, calling Davises back, washing dishes, a hurried shower, a blow-dryer and curling iron, a call from Jess, an ironing board, a last minute trip to Shoprite, and a veggie tray later, we were ready to get ready.
Dad started up the grill, and James and I made trips between the kitchen, where Mom directed what was to be put where, to the picnic table, where I made the alterations necessary to the original plan. Everyone showed up at once, it seemed. The big green van pulled in and almost immediately, the big white van came in behind. Hugs, hellos, "love your shoes", and "where should I put this?" were exchanged between families.
A major catastrophe almost ensued when the smallest dog made an escape attempt. Boy, she sees her opportunity every time that back door opens. But this particular opportunity occurred just as I was transporting a wet watermelon to the fridge. In the Great Rush to catch her, my lately ironed skirt became covered in watermelon juice, *reconciles herself with a sigh*, and I was compelled to hurriedly choose a new outfit. And iron it.
I hate that dog.
Davis people came in waves. The first set consisted of Danny, Kyle, Dana, Johnny, Nathan, Peter, and Mr. D. It was a great day for a picnic. The weather was warm, but not oppressive. The sun was bright, but not glaring (unless you were on that unfortunate volleyball team). The breeze was there, but not enough to scatter our napkins all over the lawn. I opted for bare feet. I never get a chance to go barefoot. It's all sandals or flipflops. (And by the way, it is the right that's the flip, and the left that's the flop.)
The next two sets of Davis people showed up before lunch. Everyone but Mhanda :) was there by now. Don't ask me how it happened, but the girls (every last one of them) sat at one table, thus exiling the fellows to the other end of the yard. The little boys sat four on the swing, with four chairs facing for those that couldn't squish on. The Kravets showed up shortly after we started lunch and "hey" and "how are ya?" passed between tables.
*Writers block enues*
*Mom offers suggestions*
Everyone sat at our new picnic tables. I wonder if the whole picnic idea came out of the fact that we had built these picnic tables and needed a reason to use them. We built a big round one with six sides. All the girls fit around it. And we built a seven-foot long one for the guys use. I don't think picnic tables are usually that long, but since we had the lumber left over, we figured we might as well use it all.
After lunch, the young adults split into teams for volleyball. The Davises had very kindly brought their net with them as our's had met with some accident or other last year. Kyle and Danielle directed the setting up beforehand and now it was ready for use. I started out as an innocent bystander, minding my own business. But you know that never lasts long, and after spending a few minutes playing with Yuriy's handheld music player thing, I was ready to even up some rather uneven competition. Derek and Yuriy had, like, four people against everyone else, so I offered myself as an ally.
No sooner had I set foot on the court, than Yuriy was telling everyone that I was acting like his mother. I don't even remember saying anything to him. But all of a sudden, there he was, calling me "mom". "Okay," I thought, and went along with it. :) Telling Y what to do could be fun. Especially since our game within a game turned into my being "mom" to my whole team. Soon I was defending Dana from the onslaught of her "brothers" and getting into "volleyball mom" arguments with the captain of the opposing team.
The thing I love most about volleyball is the chatter between the front lines. It's fun to see James on one side of the net, tell Dana on the other side that "You're goin' down girl!" To watch Kyle do that chainsaw thing when he spikes the ball. To see Yuriy just stand there and hold his hand up, blocking the ball from even coming over the net.
But it's more fun to take part. To listen to Manda tell "Lahessalie" to stay on my own side of the net. To try and be louder than Danny when we're in each other's face and yelling for no apparent reason. Or even better, to argue with your own team over whether or not they're allowed to smile and wave at members of the opposition. Derek actually had the dream-like desire to make everyone be quiet while we played. And that only made us argue with him. :)
Slowly the teams became larger, and slowly they began to dwindle again. I eventually made my way back for a drink and found myself, popsicles in hand, surrounded by little kids and big kids alike. Olivia came in requesting another popsicle. "Not for me. For the girl with Leah. She wants orange." That could've been about anybody. "The girl with a blue shirt?" I thought maybe it was Dana. "No." Okay try again. "Does she have a pink, green and blue stripey shirt?" I thought maybe Melissa. "Yes, and black." My mind drew a blank. "Mom, could you look out that window and see who is sitting next to Leah?"
"Lauren." Lauren did not have a blue, pink, green and black stripey shirt.
When all the popsicles had been dispensed with, we found Derek asleep in the living room. I don't know how he slept through the noise of all those people in the kitchen. He must've been really tired. Outside, I found Lauren in a game of Scrabble. Everyone was just setting around talking so I thought I'd join them for a while. Olivia would turn to me every time I passed by and say "I been looking for you," but she never told me what it was she wanted me for.
I made my way around to the office window, where I found Yuriy, Kyle and Danielle looking at pictures of Yuriy's new little niece. (OMS, she's so adorable!!) After making faces behind Yuriy, I turned to see Johnny at my side proposing another game of volleyball. I sent him inside to round up the players, and headed back to the field. Derek and J were in a one-on-one game. It wasn't easy to keep everyone from "helping" them. But they were only playing to, like, five points so it wasn't long before we were choosing up sides again.
Another game, another hour of watching Derek and Kyle pile up under the net, of diving for the ball and getting covered in dirt, of listening to Kyle tell me that I was so "bite-sized I couldn't reach the ball." Mr. K came on about halfway through. Him and Yuriy are murderous when they're on the same team, but players started wandering and Mr. K took a spot on the other team to even the odds. It soon became apparent that I needed to be about a foot taller if I was to take part in the game.
And so I found myself in a game of MadGab. Lauren, Mom, Mrs. D and me played up against Derek, Manda, Kyle and Danny. We were going good for a while, tied every round, until we hit around twenty points each and decided we needed to make this harder. Setting the timer for "expert" soon showed everyone's true colors. Survival of the fittest. We won by two points.
After singing some songs with Mr. Kravets, and reading a verse from the psalms, everyone was soon getting ready to leave. Yuriy signed my Majesty book again. I popped into the house after telling his family goodbye, to get some tylenol for D. When I came downstairs, everyone had already brought everything in the house. Ollie kept trying to remember my name so she could say "goodbye".
Danny and I walked Manda to her car. Most of their family had left while I was looking the other way, I guess. Kyle and Dana stayed a while. Kyle had been wanting to try out our Xbox all day, but I told him it was too nice out to play inside. I guess Dad ended up winning. Derek and Danny stayed for a few rounds of Probe. Derek, I've got you pegged. Great minds think alike, you know. James always comes up with ridiculously unusual words, like vibraphone. I mean, come one. And then Danny had patriachate. Like who even knows how to pronounce that? My word was vicious. Derek's was requiem. And for those of you who don't know, Probe is a lot like Hangman, except everyone comes up with a word at the same time, you play by turns, and you can choose anyone's word to guess from.
I slept well that night. |
|
posted by cori
9/06/2006 01:05:00 PM
|
| |
|
-
Sounds like you had a great time!!!
-
Nan,
We did! Except for aformentioned details that I told you....
Les,
Thanks for making me look good, Ma! ;)
-
Yeah Y, remind me to never play volleyball with you. Height doesn't always make you good at it (I always loose when I play :( )
-
Y-Did I make you look good? I thought I just made you look like you?
Nan-Height might help a little. I'm kinda short. 5'4" or so. How tall are you?
-
Les, I've tried to play volleyball several times. It doesn't work for me. I'm 5'11" so everyone thinks I'm naturally good at volleyball and basketball, but I can't hardly play either! lol
|
|
| << Home |
|
|
|
|
|
| The ShugaBowl |
| Sounds like some kind of sports thing, but in reality, the ShugaBowl is just a little hideaway for me, Sugarcube herself, to let loose my thoughts and occasional creativeness. |
|
|
Guys, c'mon. Be inspiring.