I assume his opinion on eating Doritos is something like his opinion on eating Cheetos.
(more…)

in case you’re wondering.
(more…)

SARAHK [in horrified Hermione voice]: You’re doing it all wrong. You’re wasting Doritos. If you’re going to eat them like that, you shouldn’t eat the Fiery Habaneros at all.
FRANK J.: What are you talking about?
SARAHK: I need to buy you some more Nacho Cheese [I don’t like Nacho Cheese Doritos, they don’t have enough salt on them, so what’s the point?]. You’re a waster of Doritos. The proper way to eat a Dorito is this. You lick the salt off of the Dorito. Both sides. Then you eat the chip. Then you lick your fingers. There is no point to a Dorito if you don’t taste all of the salt. Why are you even eating it?
FRANK J.: I’m going to pretend you didn’t say anything. [pops Dorito into mouth, crunches, swallows, licks fingers.]
SARAHK: Well, at least you licked your fingers. Waster.

So tell me… how do you eat Doritos? The right way? The wrong way?

Me? I look into the bag and select the visible Dorito with the most salt and eat it the right way. If it turns out to be a false advertiser, I throw it back.

Funny I don’t have a generic “neuroses” category. You’d think I’d have created one by now.

Loooooook!

And wow, what a hottie that Ginny Weasley is growing up to be. She is exactly as she is supposed to be. Fiery red hair, blazing eyes, wand at the ready. Perfect.

The D.A. The D.A.!

Ok, I can’t wait. Even though I’m scared of how they’ll butcher the book the same way they’ve butchered the others. I still can’t wait. Weee!

Frank’s sister is now officially cooler than him. I can’t tell you why, but I can tell you it’s true.

Two words, Silly: Simon Cowell. Then you’re cooler than me.

FRANK J.: You have to see this. Look at this setup. [Rewinds to the pizza boy sketch from last night on Jimmy Kimmel. Somehow we have seen the beginning to Jimmy Kimmel the last 2 nights. I’m not sure how I feel about this, since I do not care for him since he tried to come off as the next elitist pinkytoehead when he interviewed Emily Gould a couple of weeks ago.]
SARAHK: Ooh. Look at that paint color. I like it.
FRANK J.: I actually noticed it.
SARAHK: Haha! I can’t believe you noticed it.

Ladies, all it takes is constant nagging, round-the-clock home improvements, and chronic threats to paint one wall pea-soup-green. Then he’ll start to notice paint colors.

And I don’t want to hear from the non-narcissistic folks out there. Really, I don’t. I just need to know that this is normal, this thing that I do from time to time when I’m completely bored and have run out of things to read and am absolutely too bushed to paint anything else. Just too stinking bushed.

Do you read your own blogs? I mean, I don’t. Or anything. Never. And I don’t laugh out loud at my entries, because I just don’t find myself hilarious. Right.

FRANK J.: What’s something that’s red and yellow?
SARAHK: Orange. [I’m already cracking up SO HARD on the inside, just waiting for him to give me a good laugh. None ever comes.]
FRANK J.: No, I mean, what’s something that is the color red and the color yellow?
SARAHK: Come on, that was funny!
FRANK J.: Yeah.

later…

SARAHK: Mustard and ketchup.
FRANK J.:
SARAHK: Mustard and ketchup are orange.
FRANK J.: Mustard and ketchup are red and yellow.
SARAHK: Oh yeah.

It’s all that paint, y’all. Paint. And Goof Off.

over here.

I know at least one person who will LOVE this. The answers were extremely easy for me–no thought required. Rolled (haha) right off my fingers.

Go over to tracey’s to see what brought on this survey. Feel free to answer in the comments. Or just gawk. Whatever.

I am not crazy, but I will warn you, there is graphic public restroom talk in the extended entry.
(more…)

FRANK J.: After I eat, I’ll need to wash some clothes.
SARAHK: Ok. [laughing] You should start with the ones that are already in the washer. [I’ve already washed these at least twice. Maybe thrice.]
FRANK J.: [laughing] You’re a BAD sweetie!
SARAHK: You don’t have to say it with such emphasis.
FRANK J.: What is it about moving them to the dryer? That’s like four times already!
SARAHK: Three. Three only. There’s already something in the dryer.
FRANK J.: So put them in a hamper. [I chose not to correct him on the proper usage of the word “hamper,” as I wanted to keep the conversation moving.]
SARAHK: No. Absolutely not. They just… [I wanted to say “wrinkle,” but they’ve been in there for weeks, so I think we’re past wrinkled. But I’m totally planning to fluff them before I take them out! Totally.] No. They become part of the mess outside the dryer. [Good save.]

Egad, he’s demanding. At least I’m still microwaving him food. Once, sometimes twice, per day. I’m a saint!

So tonight was the first time the beauty queens did something that made me like them any less. It wasn’t even that they paid Danny & Oswald to yield Eric & Danielle. Full disclosure: I don’t know if they have a final two or a final three, since this is the first season I’ve watched, but if they have a final two, we think it should be the beauty queens and Danny & Oswald. Charla & Mirna are the most patronizing, annoying people on the planet. “Hello, you know how speak? You drive faster, my friend? Why you so stupid? Why you not like me? Is it because you don’t like little people? I don’t know why people don’t want to help us! Charla, come on!”

After we had been practically throwing things at stupid Mirna for telling Charla, “So here’s the scoop. Danny said that they asked the beauty queens for money, and the beauty queens said they would only give them money if they would yield Eric and Danielle again.” That is NOT what Danny had said. Or Oswald, I don’t remember which one jumped and which one didn’t. All I know is I was thrilled that it wasn’t me, and I would have been crying at the bottom while Frank did it if he and I were doing the race. Danny (Or Ozzy) told Mirna that they needed cash and made a deal with the beauty queens to yield Eric and Danielle. Mirna’s like, “We would have given you cash, because the cameras are on us, and no one will know whether that’s true or not, and everyone knows we never get ugly to the other players, just ask Rob and Amber, just ask the girls we dubbed the ‘yield queens.’” Really, Danny & Ozzy flat out said, “Hey, we need cash, beauty queens, we’ll yield whomever you want. You pick, we’ll yield them.”

I couldn’t blame Danny & Ozzy for making the offer (they needed cash and would have been eliminated without making the deal, because really, how do we know that the best people in the world, Charla and Mirna, who are the best people in the world, did we mention that already, would have offered them free money?), and I couldn’t blame the beauty queens for accepting the offer. They had plenty of extra cash and made sure that Danny & Ozzy had ample cash to make it to the pit stop, and hey, they could yield someone again. And Eric and Danielle and Charla and Mirna already hated them anyway, so it’s not like they would be losing any love there.

Anyway, we can’t stand Eric and Danielle either. Eric is horrible to Danielle, calls her awful names, never listens to her, yells at her all the time, and does not get the concept of a team. Danielle took over as whiny girl-half-of-couple when Teri and Ian got kicked off and says she just wants to quit about every five minutes. But wouldn’t you if your partner were calling you a b**ch when he’s not ignoring you?

But then at the pit stop, Eric and Danielle told the blondes, when they were all waiting for the Annoyings and the New Yield Queens to arrive, that Danny and Oswald had yielded them, and that he could just throw the New Yield Queens off the ledge (anger management anyone?), and the Beauties lied. When they first started talking, I actually thought they were going to come clean about it, but then no. “Ok, here’s the deal… Danny and Oswald really needed money… so we made a deal with them to use their yield to yield anyone but us. Just as long as it wasn’t us.” Yeah, not so much.

I mean, it was nice of them not to just sit there and not say anything and let Mr. Rage seethe more and more until the New Yield Queens got to the pit stop, but then they ruined it by lying about it. I’d have preferred they stay mute about it. “La la la la la.”

They’re still my favorites. Then Danny & Oswald, because they’re nice to pretty much everyone except sometimes each other when they have their little hissy fits. The other two teams? Well, Charla & Mirna at least have entertainment value with their patronizing contempt for everyone who doesn’t have a disability. Now, if Danielle would just haul off and punch Eric in the face, I might root for them over the Annoyings, but until then, I can’t wait for them to go. Go go go. “No one has had to deal with as much as we have.” I don’t know, according to Uchenna, he did. Every task for him was like being a slave, wasn’t it? It was all about what his people went through. “Walking a mile with a backpack on, I’m able to know what it was like for my people on the slave ships. Having to wait for the travel agency to open for four hours, I know what my ancestors felt like. It gives me a sense of pride.” Buck up, Danielle. Uchenna or Joyce had to dig through bags of mail at the post office at the end of the world, while the other one waited outside.

Oh, what’s the dealio with having four non-elimination stations, though? At the beginning of the race, didn’t they say there would be only two?

And why am I blogging the Amazing Race? Because American Idol is boring anymore. And because I was a smidge disappointed in the beauty queens tonight. But I still heart them.

My poor husband should never leave the house. He went to go get Rowdi from the dog spa this afternoon while I stayed parked in front of the secrets of the Grand Canyon. It’s good, though — I’m coming around on white water rafting, and in a few years I might even agree to do it. I will never EVER agree to willingly jump out of a plane, go up in a helicopter, or bunjee jump off of anything.

Anyway… I was talking about epiphanies. I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with the livingroom. Welp. With the widescreen TV and the big painting in here, and the little electronics cabinet, and absolutely no symmetry (I really require symmetry or at least some kind of order), I would walk in as a buyer and not be turned on. So I’ve been wracking my brain trying to come up with a solution. We already rid ourself of the sofa that made the room too small, and we’re planning to give this one to the dog spa as soon as the house is painted (they always need leather couches, and this one is kitty-scritched like the other one that they got) and get a couple of big chairs in its place… But the room still won’t work.

I need a girlfriend to come over and brainstorm and shop with me, but wRitErsbLock worked this weekend, so no go…

But then Frank went to pick up the dog, and it just hit me. When he got home, I delivered the news.

SARAHK: Guess who had an epiphany.
FRANK J.: Um… you?
SARAHK: Yes. Ok, first, we’re moving the painting above the patio door over the vertical blinds.
FRANK J.: Then what’s gonna go over the TV?
SARAHK: Yeah, I have good news and bad news about that. The good news is, we’re keeping the TV. Because we both love it.
FRANK J.: Yay!
SARAHK: The bad news is, it’s going to storage.
FRANK J.: * GASP * But how are we going to watch things in HD?
SARAHK: Well, it’s not going to happen until TV season is over, or most of it anyway, and the house is painted and we’re ready to bring in the chairs and get rid of the couch.
FRANK J.: Oh. Ok. But I like that TV.
SARAHK: Me too. Also, the things beside the TV are going to storage, and we’re moving the nice entertainment center from the bedroom into the livingroom. [Remarkably, his head wasn’t spinning!]
FRANK J.: But with the painting above the door, what’s going above the entertainment center? [He didn’t come packaged this way, ladies. This has taken weeks of my badgering him about being engaged in decorating conversations and a few days of me having near-breakdowns about how I have no girlfriends who don’t live in Orlando or Texas who could help me with this kind of thing.]
SARAHK: Nothing. I’ll put a few things on the top of it and the clock will be over there. The sconces will be on each side. And there will be no mess all around it.
FRANK J.: Wait, but what goes on that wall of the bedroom?
SARAHK: Nothing. It will be all walkway, and that will make the bedroom so much bigger.
FRANK J.: Oh. You’re right. Ok. I’ll miss the TV. But you’re right.

Then he went to church this evening, and I stayed home and watched Scrubs DVDs.

SARAHK: I had another epiphany!
FRANK J.: Oh yeah?
SARAHK: Yep.
FRANK J.: So… what is it? [Aha! He does want to know what I’m doing with our stuff! Probably just because he wants to know where it’s disappearing to since I won’t be able to remember where I put it.]
SARAHK: Pool table’s going to storage too.
FRANK J.: * GASP * I guess we’ll go ahead and break it down then? What’s going there?
SARAHK: New couch. Nice new coffee table. Comfy sitting area. Facing the golf course and the three giant windows so everyone can see how amazing it is to sit and stare out at the view and read a book or play chess.
FRANK J.: We can put out our nice chess set.
SARAHK: Yes. One couch, and then the two chairs will go over here in front of the entertainment center and the surround sound.

If only there were room for a chaise. Anyway, it’s all worked out in my little head. I really didn’t want to buy livingroom furniture until we got to Texas, because I don’t want to damage new stuff in transit, but something has to be done. Every time I’m looking at houses online, rent or buy, I immediately click off the ones that look messy or have ugly furniture. Not as quickly as the ones that still have 1980s and ’70s wallpaper, but I still do. I don’t want to miss out on great offers just because we can’t get it together. I’m trying to look at this place like I’m a buyer and not a packrat who can’t be without her comfort stuff for a few weeks or months or whatever.

Even if it means I have to move the bookcases to storage. * sniff *

Cannot believe I missed National Parks week on the Travel Channel.

At least I haven’t missed “the hidden canyons and ancient pools of the Grand Canyon.” Seriously, I’m Tivoing it for future enjoyment due to my catastrophic migraine. Which explains why I’m parked in front of the TV instead of finishing up my stove-fridge wall so I can start cooking again tomorrow. Also explains why I could not drag myself out of bed today until I promised myself that I’d only have to go as far as the couch.

And the good news is I caught the marathon in time to convince Frank to take me to Yellowstone STAT. Even convinced him to take me backcountry (not that it would have taken much convincing, considering that our first date was a backcountry hike of the Grand Canyon).

SARAHK [very gravely]: Sweetie. Come see what I found on top of Minerva’s plant ledge.
FRANK J.: What is it?
SARAHK [I’ve seen one roach EVER since I got Minerva, mind you]: It’s a cockroach leg. A three-inch-long one. Three inches. [Note to peeps: I’m completely irrational when it comes to cockroaches.]
FRANK J.: That’s not a cockroach leg.
SARAHK: Yes it is. It has hair on it.
FRANK J.: It doesn’t have hair on it.
SARAHK: Lemme see. Huh. [I decided later that it had been dust, arranged in a hair pattern.] I still say it’s a cockroach leg.
FRANK J.: It’s apple peel.
SARAHK: On the plant ledge? Ten feet in the air?
FRANK J. [chuckling]: Yes. It probably got up there when I threw an apple in the air and tried to cut it with my sword like Zatoichi.
SARAHK [smiling, shaking my head]: So that’s probably what I’ve been cleaning off all the kitchen walls?
FRANK J. [laughing]: I’ve been suspecting that, but I didn’t want to tell you, because I thought you might make fun of me.
SARAHK: Well, I am going to blog it.

Funny, when I told essay about our conversation, she said, “Poor Frank, it must be so hard being married to you.”
Huh?

I don’t throw apple chunks all over the walls. I just laugh at the man who does. I don’t yell at him for it or anything, I just laugh! Of course, she laughed at him with me, because she, too, is a woman!

And not a samurai!

No, not finally the Stars score first. WOOOOOOOOHOOOOO! to that, though, but what does that mean? They’ve clawed their way back from losing to win all season long, so that means nothing. And what a nice, beautiful goal it was by Mo, yes? Yes.

Finally I start to paint the kitchen. Meanwhile, Versus has decided not to torture me tonight by giving me stupid midwesterner hockey (or worse, yankee hockey) tonight, so I get to watch and listen while I work. And with the glory of the DVR, I don’t miss anything. Suh-weet.

Nice, Lindros. Your contribution to the game can be sitting in the penalty box.

My contribution to the game will be armchair penalty killing.

UPDATE: Waaaaaahaaaaaah! (That means Yay!) GAME SEVEN!! May it end like the game seven of the Western Conference Finals of 1999. That was a good game seven outcome. Unless you were an Avs fan.
(more…)

Loved it. And frankly, kinda needed to watch it after this week. Uplifting, funny, bright (wait, that’s uplifting), and best of all, PG!

It gets the J Seal of Approval. I think we need to own it, though our regular DVD player refused to play it (it does that with all DVDs that are completely covered on the backside with artwork), so we had to use my old DVD player, and Frank started talking about how we’re just gonna have to get a new DVD player, because the newer one doesn’t play the painted DVDs, and the older one that does play the painted DVDs isn’t “progressive scan.” “Can you really tell the difference with the progressive scan?” “Well… it… uh…a little I can… where’s the remote for this one?” Change of subject. He’s so cute. Men and their toys.

I took all my meds today, but I’ve been having horrible seizures since around noon. I can even feel my eyelids vibrating, which is fantastic, lemme tell ya. And I had to take Excedrin Migraine for back and nerve pain, because remarkably, something in EM helps more than taking extra Lyrica for the nerve pain, and the aspirin in it helps the back pain. Plus extra Lyrica can make me dizzy, and dizzy + high ladders = not fun.

The nerve pain is constant when I’m sitting, so constant that I don’t notice that my arm muscles are eating themselves from the inside until I stand up and start walking around. But the Excedrin Migraine always seems to exacerbate the seizure activity, so I don’t like to take it. Catch-22? I don’t know, I never actually read the book.

Alice came 4/13 to 4/18, she and I hardly spoke at all, and it had been six weeks since her last visit. Farther apart.

The gluten is working.

But I looked through my calendar this morning. I don’t see Dr. Wonderful until late May. I wonder if I should call and ask for an increased dose of the Keppra (for seizures) until the gluten challenge is over.

Also, the endoscopy is not until mid-June. I was thinking first week of June, but instead of having roughly six weeks left, I have almost two whole months.

That’s just brutal. I wonder if Dr. Fresh Air would send me for a blood test, and if that came back positive, would he send me for the biopsy in mid-May instead? As much as I love eating all the foods I missed before, I would rather be free of the way that horrible protein makes me feel. ASAP.

Oh, when the gluten challenge is over? I’m going to have to give up corn. It destroys me. That sucks, because that severely hampers my Tex-Mex cooking. No flour and no corn? It could be only temporary, until my small intestine heals, but it could be permanente. Pleeeeease let it be temporary. Oh well, either way, maybe I’ll learn to make tortillas out of potato flour or tapioca and beans or something. Celiacs are a creative bunch.

We just got Rowdi home from the dog spa (she’s been spending her days there while we’re remodeling, because she doesn’t understand the command, “DON’T YOU DARE RUB UP AGAINST THAT WALL I JUST WASHED, YOU BAD BAD DOG!”), and immediately I wanted to give her a rawhide to chew on, because she was just so happy to see me. I was going to take her outside later and try Laura’s advice for teaching this trick, but it wasn’t necessary.

She spoke. Just kept telling her to speak. She went through her whole bag of tricks, then started whining, we told her she was a good girl… her ears perked up, and she looked at us like, “What? You want me whining, then? Huh. Freaks.” After about three minutes, I did several of her other tricks with her, and when I told her to speak, she barked! Barked! Not just whining!

My dog is so awesome. She learned speak in three days. Most of her tricks take 2-3 days, and this one took longer than all except “roll over”, probably because she knows that barking is prohibited in the house of J.

So in summary, your dog is stupid compared to mine. And my dog is way dumber than my cats, so my cats are Einstein and Edison compared your dog.

Rowdi says…
(more…)

Not 1st or 2nd or even 3rd degree murder. Voluntary manslaughter. Three to six years in prison.

Okay. World’s gone crazy.

Sudden death overtime… I love it and all, but this whole sudden death overtime when facing elimination thing? It is not healthy for me.

GHOST OURS!

UPDATE: YES! YES! YES!

I probably shouldn’t have screamed so loudly with all the windows open around 1 a.m. in our quiet little community.

Whew!

Ok. Two more to go. No problem. We can do this. And by we, I mean the Stars and their loudest screaming fan.

It’s midnight. Why is this Deadwings/Lames game still on my screen?

I miss Laverne. Why’d they have to kill her off?

What genius in the scheduling department would think I would want to watch the Bedsprings/Flames game over the Stars/Schmucks game? I get the last hour and overtime, if applicable.

That’s two games in a row not shown in our area. Painful.

I don’t know how he ever grows up to be smart, because Smallville’s Clark Kent is the dumbest superhero ever. He gets fooled by the same stupid tricks every time.

“Say, Clark, do you still keep the kryptonite in the front closet? Can you turn your back on me for just half a tick so I can retrieve it? Thanks so much. Sorry ’bout this. Love ya!” Dufus. You’d think after about the fiftieth time they pull that trick on him, he might pick up on it…

And I want all Clark, Lois, and Chloe, all the time on this show. The Lana story has been tired since halfway through the pilot episode. She makes me want to vomit.

1) We didn’t care about it yesterday. Did anyone?
2) We’re busy with our house stuff.
3) I also did taxes yesterday.

Ok, so…

SARAHK: But really, I don’t care if China attacks Russia, whatever, but doing it for her?
***

SARAHK: How long did Chang say Jack has to get the part to him?
FRANK J.: An hour.
SARAHK: Hey. That’s the length of the show! You know, if they wanted to make it more realistic, they should have set the show in a city that has no traffic so they can actually get places in under an hour. Like Amarillo.
FRANK J.: That wouldn’t be very realistic to have Amarillo attacked every year.
SARAHK: They have a nuclear facility.
FRANK J.: But every year?

No, more realistic would be a different city each day.

If I look at the spout hard enough, water will come out. Power of positive thinking.

Minerva does take instructions very seriously.

SPOILER ALERT!
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*So far I’m mostly enjoying Drive, the Tim Minear show, but I don’t like whole idea of purely evil people running the race. I’ve decided that purely evil people are running the race, because the first person to come in last was supposed to shoot someone the next day.
*I’m sure the monkeys running Fox will destroy the show, like they did Firefly. Until then I will enjoy every single Nathan Fillion minute of it.
*I’m pretty sure the music is from the same guy who did the Firefly music, sounds like it and makes sense. Ugh, why can’t I think of his name? It’s rattling around in my brain.
*When the text message “Fly to Jupiter and go to the red eye” came in, I told Frank that Jupiter must be Jupiter, Florida, and the red eye is probably that lighthouse that we passed on July 2, 2005, right before we turned around.
*Second stop, obviously 45 minutes from our house. I hope they go lots of places I’ve been. Then I can go, “Hey! I’ve been there!” Better yet, I can solve the clues before Frank. He does not do well with the geography, American or otherwise. (UPDATE: correct about the Cape, but these are the easy ones.) Hey, this one might be a fun one to liveblog just for the fun of figuring out the clues. Of course, when they give you a huge visual clue such as the space shuttle in the background before giving the text clue, it’s a no-brainer, so I hope they don’t do that so much. I’d prefer figuring out word puzzles. Those are fun for geeks like me.
*Um, that is not Kennedy Space Center. That doesn’t look like the Visitors’ Center at all. And you can never see the Shuttle when it’s on the launchpad, only the booster rockets and the tank. See?

What are they gonna do for the Grand Canyon? Play-act at Palo Duro? Picky SarahK.
*When they said Rome, I said, “Rome, Georgia?” That was mostly a guess, but I assumed Rome, Texas was too far to go just yet. Right again, Me. Me go. Me smirt.
*This is like the X-Games version of the Amazing Race. Speaking of Amazing Race, our foreign policy is not why people in foreign countries don’t like Americans. Charla and Mirna (especially Mirna) are why people in foreign countries don’t like Americans. So patronizing! They talk down to everyone, ech. “Hi, I’m American. Are you s-l-o-w? You need me talk slower, my friend? Come on, go faster, my friend! You’re worthless! Why aren’t you helping me faster, my friend?! Run, Charla! I have to do twice as much as everyone else!” I do have to give Charla props for climbing 11 stories of bamboo with her wonderfully strong arms. I would have gone for the Lost in Translation challenge, because hello, 11 stories. 11 stories! Heights.
*Go Dustin & Kandice! Oh yeah, I’m still on the Amazing Race. I hope they win the whole thing. Every year. Oh. And I thought we’d already had the two non-elimination stations? Why was there a third? And Eric is insufferable. I hope Danielle dumps him when the race is over.
*I would have understood about the gun in the purse. (Back on Drive.)
*Amy Acker! I saw her name in the credits and said, “Oh! Amy Acker’s in this?” and told Frank who she is (ALIAS!) right before she showed up as Mal’s wife. Excellent.
*I can’t believe anyone had to make a phone call to come up with Cape Canaveral. It’s a countdown clock and a clue that includes Kennedy! Then again, we know the area and are complete geeks, and I’ve always paid attention to Shuttle launches ever since I can remember.
*Oh Mal. You can’t turn your back on liars and thieves. Stupid Mal.
*Baby’s mama learned how to use a gun super-fast! Great shot, Daniel-san. “You beginner luck.”
*We knew who Mal’s forced partner was pretty quickly. “She’s the little girl,” said I. “That’s what I was thinking,” said he. We heart TV.

nor words, actually.
(more…)

and with DVR-delay, what with pausing for when i was out of the room while cooking a wonderful gluten-free dinner (gotta have a break once and again) and again when i was showering, we sat down to eat, and i was happy to have more than half a game left to watch (more than one and a half if things go the way they did Wednesday night). honey curried chicken, garlic broccoli salad, and playoff hockey in the second period. glory! and then he starts talking. and after i showered with him and everything. funny story about that in a minute.

FRANK J.: Can we watch CSI?
SARAHK: [eyes boring into my husband, horrified, mystified]
FRANK J.:
SARAHK:
FRANK J. [frustrated face on, hands in air, motioning toward TV]: I don’t care!
SARAHK: [eyes even bigger now, trying to steady own hands, glad the chicken didn’t require cutlery, because I do love him]
FRANK J.:
SARAHK:
FRANK J.: But what if they go all night and play three overtimes and never score? And it’s the dollhouse storyline on CSI! And they said it’s the best season ever!
SARAHK: It was four. Four overtimes. And that was awesome hockey. Hey, I get to watch two hockey games a year until the playoffs. So when the playoffs come around–
FRANK J.: Oooooookaay. But with that logic, soccer is supposed to be exciting just going on forever and ever and ever with no one scoring.
SARAHK: Soccer is nothing like hockey [though I’ve actually watched it in my single insomniac days]. I can’t believe you would make that comparison. Once you get to overtime, it’s all about the goalies [well, not all about the goalies, but if your goalie isn’t in it, you’re screwed], and you get the best goaltending of the season. Especially in overtime.
FRANK J. [thoroughly beaten down now]: Ooooookaaay.

*** More tidbits from the evening ***

FRANK J.: And know who I hate the most?
SARAHK:
FRANK J.: Monkeys.
SARAHK: Aww, I thought you were going to say me.
FRANK J.: I know. I would never say you. I love you the most.

He loves me the most. I love him the most too. We’re icky cute like that.

***

SARAHK: Sweetie, Marty is pitching a shutout, and there are five minutes left. I can’t believe you’re not watching this.
FRANK J.: Oh. He’s doing what?
SARAHK: Pitching a shutout.
FRANK J.: Isn’t that common in hockey though?
SARAHK: Not that common. Maybe 8, 10 a year during the regular season for a goalie like Marty. But during the playoffs is a different story. Much more rare.
FRANK J.: But it’s not like a perfect game in baseball.

Who cares? This is hockey!

***

FRANK J.: Why haven’t they had any fights yet?
SARAHK: Refs are calling the games so tight. Nobody wants to fight, because nobody wants to take a penalty.

***

FRANK J.: This is a lot like figure skating, except not as masculine.
SARAHK: You’ve never seen the dance reel?
FRANK J.: The what?
SARAHK: Yeah.

***

SARAHK: Sweetie, you have to watch now. [He’s been reading about comic books or some other such non-hockey nonsense for an hour now.] It’s about to get really exciting. Still a shutout, and they’ve pulled their goalie with two and a half minutes left.

***

SARAHK: He looks like he’s sweating [guy on Toyota of Melbourne commercial]. He should not wear that shirt. He looks like he’s sweating!
FRANK J.: Oh yeah, you’re right.

***

Aaaaand while I was in the shower (after Frank left me alone–who leaves a wet, naked woman alone in the shower?), I was conditioning my hair, and I kept pulling out clump after clump of hair (gluten). And there were so many tangles. I just started cracking up. Frank came by the bathroom.

FRANK J.: What?
SARAHK: My hair is sooooo tangled right now. I’m pulling out clump after clump of hair.
FRANK J.:
SARAHK: I truly am a (k)nappy-headed ho.

I mean, I’m not a ho, but my hair was so (k)nappy. I giggled for a long while. I do not apologize.

***

SARAHK: What are you doing? You can’t pick out what colors [of gummy bears] you want!
FRANK J.: There are a lot of red ones! So I was taking some red ones so there aren’t as many left.
SARAHK: Whatever.
FRANK J.: You can have the rest.
SARAHK: No, I don’t want the rest, I was just wondering.

***

Tantalizing stuff around here, folks. Tantalizing!