Who Let the Blogs Out? Who? Who? Who? Who?

With shame I have nothing to blog about.
I've just had that stupid play on words of the
most annoying song EVER in my head since I started this blog.
There. Now it's out of my head and in yours til the end of time.
You're welcome.
Now pay it forward.

Sponges. Discuss.

I've cleaned a lot of dishes in my day. Like, a LOT of dishes. I've washed them in sinks AND in bathtubs. I've washed them outside and by river sides. For reals-ies. Been there. Washed that. And the last time I had the priviledge of a dish washing machine was over five years ago. FIVE YEARS of hand washing grimy plates, deep vases, kitty nibble bowls, glued on rice pans, and other stuff. Now, I ask you, ladies of the sponge, which brand and/or style of sponge do you prefer and why? I ask because I am in a sponge rut. I've been using "Chore Boy" sponges for over three years now and get panicky when I am on my last one. Worse? The other day, I couldn't find them in the store! What if they stop making them? So, I open the floor to a discussion of sorts where I implore you to share with me your sponge preference and why it is so. Sponges. Discuss.

Woke Up Laughing. Hard.

I had the weirdest dream last night. It was so real and so rad. Dustin and I were surfing instructors on the Rogue River. We were teaching our family members to ride in one big, last wave for the day towards the coast of this huge zoo. The coasting toward land part was tricky so they all veered off and I did this totally wicked move where I jump off my board, skip across the shallow shore water and run onto land while my board slides up next to me. As everyone is cheering and congratulating me, my mom-in-law, says, "Hey, lets go get a cinnamon roll."
I must have made a sound that startled both Dustin and I out of sleep because I woke up with my head on my cat, Y'all, who was curled up like a warm cinnamon roll. I don't know when I've laughed that hard before but it took me a good 10 minutes to regain control.
Did I eat Peyote last night or was it the Brie cheese talking?

His Indian Name is Bear Lip

Any guesses why? Zoom in on that bottom lip, people. Ridiculous.

We took Curt to a new park where no duck poop has ever existed to be gobbled up by a certain bear lipped dog. You think he had never been outside before.

He ran us ragged and promptly passed out in the back of the car on the ride home.

I'll think we'll keep him.

All Things Concrete

Don't get me wrong, I typically have faith in Dustin and his creative process. Very few times has he come up with an idea that doesn't work out (barring his movie choices... believe me, I have outside support on this). Examples of things that have worked out: renting the loft in Seattle, buying the Fiat with our last paycheck for 2 months, getting married, moving to San Diego, tearing off the awning on our new house, etc. That still doesn't stop me from getting paranoid when he becomes very quiet and stares into space for an twenty minutes and then gets up abruptly asking where he can find an exact-o knife, a stick of gum, and two match sticks. I believe that support in your partner is the glue in a relationship. And so we now have...

He created a concrete wall between our living room and kitchen. It is smooth, with tiny cracks that create a visual texture amidst the faded chicken wire backing.

And I'll be damned if he wasn't right. It does frame the kitchen and lead the eye to all things concrete. Well played, sir, well played.

And the Winners Are...

We won by a landslide at the Crazy Christmas Sweater Party that Dustin's mom, Robbie threw. We won mostly because we were two of 4 participants (the others being the host and her friend) and because our sweaters were without a doubt the most HIDEOUS that have ever existed.


Dustin's was actually a womans sweater with shoulder pads. The embroidered angels and pine trees were so abundant that it was puffy. Mine was puffy, too... with painted polar bears and a doily polo collar. I hate us.
The holiday spirit, which I typically avoid, did seep in a bit. Even if it was to make fun of it. That's really how I shine anyway. Her party inspired me to put up our tree. Our shiny, bedazzled, disco tree. Baby Jesus would be so proud.

Um, I Think Curtis "Digs" the Snow

Question: What's got four paws and loves him some snow?

Answer: This guy right here!

We were invited out in the snow to celebrate our radtastic friends' son's 4th birthday. We met in town and traveled south to the snowy goodness in the Lake of the Woods area. There was a perfect turnout just off a mountain road to set up a campfire, play, smother each other in snow, hunt for Christmas trees, and eat cupcakes of glory that Shaunna made.


Speaking of glory... a rare picture of Dustin AND Curtis SITTING STILL!!!

... and looking rather handsome, at that.

But, who brought the nerd in street wear?

That's me, warm but a bit unprepared for being a So.O.(Southern Oregonian) in the winter.
In summation, we had a wonderful time with a lovely group of folks.