Tea Baggin', Dancin' and Shaunin'

It's Tuesday and I'm feeling random today. Get on board with Super Keely’s Tuesday’s Random Thoughts. If you're not doing it, you're doing it wrong. Here goes:

Yesterday, my morning Facebook status was Am I the only person who is actually a fan on Mondays? According to my friends that commented, apparently I am. I can't believe how rigorous you all are in your hatred for Mondays. Now, if we could all somehow channel that hatred into something a little more constructive, say like getting rid of pleated pants, well...then I could definitely see myself joining the bandwagon.

Speaking of bandwagons...

Today there is a Tea Bagger Express rally here in Utah. I'd really like to go if for no other reason than to get my face on Fox News and to tell the organizer folks that they should have googled the term "Tea Bagging" a little more thoroughly before they married themselves to the name. Come on people, urbandictionary.com is your friend. Use it.

Certain people have been asking me if I have given up my obsessive crush on Shaun White since I haven't talked about him for a while. Let me address those people directly:

No, Jeremy, I haven't given up on the ridiculous dream (your words, not mine) that Shaun White will stop by our house after a day of hittin' the half-pipe. I will also not give up hope that The Shaun will tell me I make the most delicious chicken curry casserole he's ever tasted and ask if he can move into our basement. It could happen. Think of the income supplementing possibilities here. I'm doing this for our family. Stop being so selfish, Jeremy.

Also, I fully recognize that "hittin' the half-pipe" sounds somewhat dirty, just like "tea bagging" did a few paragraphs ago. Believe me, the irony is not lost on me here.

Another also, this happened at work the other day during a moment of low-productivity.

Actually, this has happened many times during many days. My girl Jessica just happened to capture it on film.

I've wrangled Jeremy into watching Dancing With The Stars (DWTS) with me this season. Every time Evan Lysacek waltzes onto the stage (Get it? Waltzes?) I secretly hope that Evgeni Plushenko and his hipster mullet pirouettes in front of the camera and tries to claim victory over Evan on a reality television show. Not that I don't love The Evan, because, for the love of spray-tanner, I do. He's my pick this season, but I just can't resist beating that joke to death. At the very least, the Evgeni vs Evan DWTS drama would make for an awesome SNL skit.

Well, that's about all I have rattling around in my brain right now. I've been overwhelmed by trying to console Jeremy through the whole Sandra Bullock-Jessie James fiasco. See, besides Susie-Down-The-Street, Sandy is the other girl on his "Kitchen Pass" card for celebrity-neighbor hook-ups.

Gettin' Fit and Gettin' Random

Today is reckoning day, the "Come to Casey" day. Every first Monday of the month I do two things; I treat myself to a meat lover's pizza and I post my fitness progress online for you all to read and for Casey to judge harshly.

(The meat lover’s pizza is to console myself after I do my post of shame. The greasy bits of meat and cheese are my friends.) So is the pizza delivery guy. Note to self: we order out pizza way to often.

But today, my friends, I come to you a changed woman. I have been exercising (what’s the opposite of religiously?)...fairly often. As of late, I have been getting up at 4:21 am to treadmill and lift weights with Jillian Michaels. She’s mean. She yells at me through the TV to stop being a whiner and just do it already. I love her.

Why do I get up at 4:21? Well, first of all, I think to get up at that time is high-larious. Second, I hit the snooze button a few times then I get up at the more reasonable, but less funny 4:42 am and do the fitness routine for about 50 minutes. I need to start so early because I have kids to get ready for school, a husband to nag into packing a lunch and then, of course, there is my very lengthy shower routine. Remember that?

If you want to join the fitness revolution, then get yourself that P90X thing everyone's talking about. I hear it works. If you want to join a community of supportive women striving to meet their fitness goals together then check out Casey's HASAY Challenge over at her site.

*Warning* Abrupt subject change ahead:

I know it’s only Monday, but I really want to participate in Super Keely’s Tuesday’s Random Thoughts. If you're not doing it, you're doing it wrong. I’m posting this an entire day early. I’m not only very random, but extremely overly prompt. Here goes:

Do people still wear skorts? I have no clue.

Are you people following @Badbanana on Twitter? If you’re not, you should be. Last week he posted this tweet and it made me laugh.

Are you people following @Gingela5 on Twitter? She tweets often about her dogs, her feet and the fact that she likes pineapple. She’s actually one of my favorite people to interact with on Twitter.

I’m going to BlogHER 2010. Oh joy! I’m super excited and nervous at the same time. Jenni at Oscarelli is one of the ladies in my super fun group and is really the brains behind the whole organizing of the hotel / lodging / rooming / gossiping about boys / matching outfits thing. The other day we were trading emails back and forth about getting all the ladies into a couple of rooms and this was the tail end of my email response to her:

“….I won't do any foot stomping if we need to shuffle bodies in rooms a bit. It’s well known that I'll sleep anywhere. (That rumor about me has been floating around since high school, anyway.) Bawahahaha!”

Okay, so that might only be funny to me. I promise it’s not true. The actual rumor floating around me in high school was that everyone I slept with said I screamed in my sleep. So...who's excited to room with me at BlogHer?

If I'm Coming For You, You'll Smell Me First

I’m participating in the web’s most popular meme today. It’s Random Tuesday Thoughts, the brainchild of Keely aka The Unmom. But, I’m sure you all already knew that. She’s blonde and famous, just like the sun.

Here goes random…

I just bought a bottle of SJP/NYC perfume and I can say that it has officially become my signature scent. Not because it speaks to my personality per se, but more because the bottle exploded in my purse after it suffered severe trauma in our office parking garage. Now, everywhere I go, I emit not-so-subtle notes of strawberries and gardenias.

On a related note, the aforementioned disaster makes it difficult for me to sneak up on strangers on the street and steal their candy while lugging around my purse. And if you didn’t already know, strangers in Salt Lake City carry thee best candy.

The other day I zipped through the drive-thru window at McDonald’s. When I pulled up to the menu board to place my order, the attendant (Hi, I'm Jarrod!) sang the McDonald’s jingle “Bah-dah-buh-bah-dahhhh, I’m lovin’ it!” before he chirped, “How can I make YOUR day!” I told him he could make my day with a fruit parfait and a rendition of “Walking on Sunshine”. Let’s just say the fruit parfait was passable at best and Jarrod! has no clue who Katrina and the Waves are.

And now…and now I just really want to watch Secret of My Success starring a young Michael J. Fox.

I am mildly obsessed with Tabatha’s Salon Takeover on Bravo. She is the definition of bitchy and honest. I wish Tabatha were in the fitness training biz. Because honey, bitchy and honest is what I need at the gym right now.

Do people still say the “fierce”? Because, I really like that word. I’ve been apprehensive to use it because I think it’s circa 2006, which doesn’t make it vintage enough to be cool just yet. It just makes me sound a little dated.

My mother gave me a little wake up call this week. I mean this literally. She actually called my phone while I was sleeping and it woke me up.

I received the Beautiful Blogger Award this week from Jessica at La Fin DuMond Farm. Thank you, Jessica, but clearly you didn't see my extreme bedhead when you threw the award my way. I was anything but beautiful that day, my friend. (I've tucked the award away in my awards page if you want to take a peek. I've contacted a local Chocolatier to have a 2/3 replica made for my sweet tooth. Delicious) Grab the Beautiful Blogger badge for yourselves!

Well, that’s it for me folks. I’m off to hopefully jump an unsuspecting stranger on the street and shake him down for a Snickers bar…without my purse, of course.

Random, a Tad Bit Early

Holy balls, its Tuesday. But it’s really Monday.

I was supposed to put up a Prom Post last week in conjunction with Stiletto Mom and Blissfully Caffeinated, but my attempts to locate my dance pictures were fruitless. Could I have burned them in a fit of rage sometime during college? Did I even get pictures taken? I’m sure I did. I have one more avenue to pursue before all efforts have been exhausted. It involves the exchange of small bills and a long-distance phone call. I think I’m up for the challenge. I will do anything to get my hands on those suckers short of calling up my prom dates from 10+ years ago to see if they're willing to check their parents' basement for images.

I do have some dignity.

I’m pretty sure my brain has turned to mush. Because of the kiddos, cartoons are on in the Steenky household the majority of the time. Jeremy often finds me staring glassy-eyed at the television drooling as an episode of Spongebob Squarepants or Scooby-Doo is playing.

To keep me somewhat sharp and “in the game” I have taken to inventing elaborate back stories for the characters in these programs.

Let’s talk about Scooby-Doo for a minute, shall we?

We all assume Fred and Daphne have a thing going. In MY world they have a tenuous relationship, flirtatious at best. However, Velma is a dirty girl and will get freaky with Fred and do things that Daphne is too prudish to consider.

Shaggy, of course, partakes in herbal refreshments from time to time. Velma and Fred join him regularly, but Fred have to be careful because he has been battling a nasty coke habit since his first year at Coolsville Community College. Only Velma knows this.

I’m haven’t quite figured out how the three of them support their drug habit other than siphoning Daphne’s trust fund and her paychecks from her part-time job at Banana Republic. The gang uses Daphne’s credit card to buy snacks and other sundry items while they travel about solving mysteries. She’s oblivious to this fact, or much else because she suffers from a nasty Vicodin habit.

See? I have suddenly made Scooby-Doo tolerable.

I had no idea who the Shamwow guy was until his sex scandal a few weeks ago. Now I’m totally obsessed with him, but not in a bad way. Now, Jeremy and I wait for the Shamwow commercials and each try to be the first one to yell “SHAMWOW, YOU WHORE!”

Jeremy always wins.

The weather has been nice lately so we’ve had our windows open. I wonder what the neighbors think about all the Shamwow whorin’ shouts at our place.

If you feel like being random, wait until Tuesday, and join in the random fun hosted by the lovely Keely at The Un-mom.

I Spent Four Glorious Hours With The 80s

I intended my participation in Keely’s Random Tuesday Thoughts to be a little more random. I had a whole list worked up that included an argument as to why robots will kill us before zombies do, my feelings on Twilight and my growing hatred of Katy Perry. But Saturday something waaaaaay better came up.

What could be better than a post about killer robots and Katy Perry? Of course it would have to be a post about killer robots actually offing Katy Perry, so I guess my post would be the second best thing and it’s all about one-hit wonders from the 1980s.

Saturday night, Jeremy and I were sucked into four hours of non-productiveness after we accidentally stumbled across VH1’s countown of the Top 100 One-Hit Wonders of the 80s.
Say it with me, people. Awesome.

Normally, I would never condone such couch potato-like behavior, let alone have the time to spend an entire evening watching a network that only features “best ever” countdowns and reality-based programming that I’m pretty sure is set up for women who want jump start their adult film career. But I ask you, could you turn away from all that mess?

Yeah, neither could I.

I learned so much from watching VH1 this weekend. From “Tough Love” I picked up a few much needed love tips. From “For The Love of Ray-J” I discovered several things I never want to do with my life, including a photo shoot with fruit in a body-length leotard. I also reconnected with some much loved music of my youth including:

“Turning Japanese”, by The Vapors
“It Takes Two”, by Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock
“Come on Eileen”, by Dexy Midnight Runners
“Respect Yourself”, by Bruce Willis (yes, that Bruce Willis)

I must admit, my evening watching the countdown didn’t come entirely without controversy. When Twisted Sister’s “We’re Not Gonna Take It” showed up on the countdown at #21, Jeremy immediately declared bullsh*t because “That song is freakin’ awesome and everybody knows it!”.
In turn, I was quite upset to see that Styx made the list for “Too Much Time on My Hands”. What? They had several other hits including what FADKOG refers to as the mother of all driveway songs, “Mr. Roboto”. (For those of you that aren’t awesome or FADKOG or don’t know what a driveway song is, let me break it down for you. It’s when you’re pulling into the driveway and the song you’re jamming to has just too much awesome in it for you to turn the ignition off and get on with your life.)

It seems VH1 thought better of sticking Styx on the list because I went back to check the list today and Styx is nowhere on it anymore.

Other high points of the four hours of my life that I’ll never get back, and frankly I don’t care because IT WAS THAT GOOD include:

• Remember Thomas Dolby, the guy who gave us “Blinded by Science”? Turns out he invented the cell phone technology that makes it possible to download ring tones to cell phones. So, yeah, don’t feel too sorry for him. Every time you downloaded “Can’t Touch This” as your ring (don’t pretend you haven’t), the Blinded by Science dude made a cool buck off you.

• VH1 bills Divo as the band that rose to the top of “nerd rock” in the 1980s. with “Whip It”. WTF? There’s a genre known as nerd rock? Exactly who are in these bands and where do I sign up?

• Lastly, remember Men in Hats? “Safety Dance” anyone? More importantly, remember their trippy music video that featured midgets and renaissance wenches frolicking around in the English countryside? Now, I’m all for frolicking and I’m firmly in the pro-midget camp, but combine the two and you’ve got just plain oddness.

As an aside, you should know that when they revealed what the members of MIH are up to these days, they showed the lead singer, all 6’4” of him, residing in Canada, shaving his head and living his life as a stay at home dad. I immediately emailed SAHD Captain Dumbass to accuse him of being the former lead singer of MIH. He responded, in kind, and called me out as a giant dumbass since the front man for MIH apparently lives in Montreal, not Vancouver.

Still, I remain skeptical. The Captain’s email response was far too quick for him to have properly Googled the band. I stand by my first inclination that the Captain once mingled with midgets and women wearing corsets while lip-syncing about leaving his troubles behind. To him I say, dude, your troubles have just begun.

Am I Random Or Just Wearing A Sweater Vest?

So everyone, I mean everyone is participating in Random Tuesday Thoughts sponsored by Keely over at The Un-Mom. I thought I’d give it a try this week and I have to say, it’s so cathartic. I very much loved clearing out all the junk rattling around in head. I need to do the same thing with all the junk in my trunk.

No, not that kind of junk
Okay, just a small clarification before we get rolling here. The “junk in my trunk” I mentioned above in no way refers to my backside, m’kay? I honestly do have a bunch of junk in my car trunk including a stroller, an empty Macy’s bag, at least three clean diapers and maybe one dirty diaper. Please don't judge me.

Reason #264 that I love my husband
A few weeks ago I was leaving a comment on Tattooed Minivan Mom’s site and I needed the correct spelling for a particular word.
“Honey?” I shouted down stairs, “How do you spell ‘douche’?”
Without skipping a beat he hollered, “D-O-U-C-H-E.”
He never asked me why. True love. Forever.

Reason # 5 that I now love the dollar store
I’ve never really spent much time at dollar stores until one moved into a shopping center near our home. As of late, I stop by at least once a week to pick up dish soap, cleaning supplies and cookies for the kids’ lunches. Last week, I took Henry and Reese along with me so that they could each pick out a toy as a reward for their good behavior. (Henry picked out a ninja sword and Reese snagged a flute, in case you’re wondering.)

Anyway, as I made my way to the register, a pile of pink boxes along one of the aisles caught my eye. I recognized them as my tampon of choice. I honestly let out a little gasp of joy when I saw them stacked on the shelf. I ran over, examined all the boxes carefully to make sure that I was, in fact, purchasing Tampax brand tampons and not some knock-off brand like “Timpax”.

I threw as many boxes as I could manage into my basket, then urged my four-year old son to carry several boxes in his little arms and follow me up to the front register. He dropped most of them along the way and ended up kicking them with along the floor for me.

Sure, I got strange glances from my fellow shoppers as I held a baby in one arm, and urged my son to “Kick harder! Get those boxes up there!” But then again, I am now the proud owner of 17 boxes of Tampax at the cool price of a buck a box. Score.

I’m irregular
I really need to get myself organized and start posting regularly again. I’d like to set a schedule to log on and read everyone again. My internet usage is pathetic these days. I sneak on here and there, but my blog-stalking time has taken a severe blow.

Should I copy write this?
Severe Blow would be a great name for an album name, don’t you think?

Maybe I should just submit it instead?
.....orrrr, maybe an entry to urbandictionary.com? Take your pick.

I’m too sexy for this sweater vest
No one has told me to “party-hearty” ever. I thought about this for a while this morning while I was getting ready for work. I’ve decided I’m totally fine with this. People either take one look at me and 1) immediately know that I won’t be the life of the party, or 2) they figure that I’m plenty capable of partying and need no urging to get my party on. The high-collared shirt and sweater vest ensemble I’m wearing right now leads me to believe it might be the first one.