Ah, memories

For a special edition to coordinate with our regularly published edition during Christmas week, the newspaper staff where I work was asked to write about our favorite Christmas memories. It took a couple of days to come up with something that was suitable for newsprint. Accompanying a picture of little April holding Papa Smurf and sitting on Santa's lap was the following story. Enjoy.

For most people, December invokes memories of hot chocolate in front of a fire, sleigh rides, and maybe even a Christmas carol or two. I'm not most people. The onslaught of dazzling garland, fancy ornaments and multicolored strands of lights adorning Christmas trees always make me remember a cold December evening involving two strangers and a lone pine tree.

It was the night of a holiday concert at my high school, and I was in my junior year. My friends Cara and Dave, self-proclaimed A/V geeks, had just finished filming the concert for school records, and then we were on our way to drop off Dave at his home out in the country. We made our way slowly, as the night was foggy and the roads were quite icy. About a quarter of a mile before Dave's house, near a Christmas tree farm, we saw two people standing along the side of the road, looking out into the fog as if they were waiting for someone. We left Dave safely at his house and made our slow return to town.

At the stop sign, Cara and I made sure we didn't see any oncoming headlights penetrating the fog, and we were just about to pull out when suddenly the back doors opened and the dome light came on. Two strange people, a young man and young woman, whom we later realized were the same two we'd seen earlier in front of the tree farm, hopped into the backseat. The man was frantically pulling a pine tree into the car. Cara and I stared in shock, my eyes meeting the startled gaze of the woman. She squeaked and jumped back out of the car. The man looked at us with both puzzlement and dread as he realized we apparently weren't the ride they had been waiting for. He shoved the tree back out, and he and the young woman disappeared into the fog.

The rest of the ride back to my house was punctuated with moments of laughter and bewilderment as we struggled to come to terms with the strange encounter. Had it really happened? Had they been figments of our imagination? The moment of truth was revealed when we opened the back doors and found a seat filled with fresh pine needles and an abandoned yellow flashlight.

So enjoy your candy-cane and mistletoe-filled memories. As for me, December will always call to mind visions of a cold, foggy night, good friends, and Christmas tree thieves.

Hope you enjoyed this very true story. My co-workers got a laugh, and I hope you did, too. A belated merry Christmas to you all, and good tidings in 2008!

"You guys, I'm hungry. I know when my stomach growls there's trouble."

I must have been really disappointed after opening all my presents last night that I didn't get Guitar Hero, because this morning I woke up with this Goonies quote on repeat in my mind:

"Yeah, but you know what? This one, this one right here. This was my dream, my wish. And it didn't come true. So I'm taking it back. I'm taking them all back."

STUFF!

Currently obsessed with:

BOOKS!

MOVIES!

(Dear Lame Narrator, his name is Gerard, not Jared. Get it right or pay the consequences.)

TV SERIES!

WANTING THINGS!

Small vampire bottle.

Vampire pocket tissue holder.

Snowcake, from LUSH.

Eye shadow for blue eyes, from Sephora.

Vera Wang Princess fragrance and lipgloss, from Sephora.

"He's just gonna keep on loving her. She's gotta be sore. I appreciate the sentiment, but enough!"

Note to parents everywhere: Never bring your 3-year-old to Wal-Mart. Ever. For one, your arms and wrists will be extremely sore the next day just from trying to subdue a wildly hysterical, shrieking, fighting toddler terrorist. Also, everyone will stop and stare at you while you fight to maintain your bear-hug grip so that said toddler terrorist doesn't escape as you try to take her out to the car to calm the fuck down. People will glare at you as if you are trying to kidnap your child, or in my case, niece, but they won't try and stop you because no one wants to get involved. Also, I might have snapped their heads off.

Ah, memories.

Is it time for conversations yet? Yes, I believe it is.

Kristen: What about that one movie? Mr. Magorium's something Emporium.
April: Wonder Emporium.
Kristen: Whatever.
April: You can remember Magorium and Emporium, but not Wonder?
Kristen: That's how I roll.
(5 minutes later)
Kristen: Mr. Magorium's Wonderful Emporium.
April: Wonder. Not Wonderful.
Kristen: Shut up.

Kristen: Boy crotches gross me out.
April: Even Colin Meloy's?
Kristen: Oh, no. His would be shining like the morning sun.

Aaron: (answering phone) Hello? (listens) Hey is for horses.
April: Gay is for Aaron.

I had more, but I forgot my list at home. *sigh* Blogging is hard work.

A few highlights from the Twin Cities trip:

At Friends 2B Made (yes, that's what it's called), I made a little doll (like this) for Jersey for Christmas. I dressed her in this outfit, which is almost identical to one that Jersey wears, and I even picked out a pajama set so Jerz could change her. Anyway, the girl who worked there? Totally psycho. She grabbed the doll out of my hands and started making it dance! And gave it a creepy voice. Then she talked to it. There was more weirdie things, but I can't remember. Kristen and I were quite disturbed and kept giving each other wide-eyed looks.

Our first night at the hotel, we decided to order in room service because it was already dark out and we didn't want to try to maneuver through an unfamiliar city. After I ordered (I lost rock/paper/scissors against Kristen), the guy on the other end of the line goes, "Are you eating all of this yourself, ma'am? *snicker*" har har Then he assures me it'll be up in 20 minutes. The menu insists that if the dinner isn't served within 30 minutes of ordering, the meal is free. Almost an hour later, the food finally arrives. The girl delivering the tray strikes up a conversation about where we're from--like unusually interested. She presents me the bill, which is around $45. I mention the hotel guarantee about the free meal. I point out the statement on the menu and reiterate that I'd called 50 minutes earlier. So we got ourselves a free meal. With cold fries and a gross dessert.

In the parking garage at the Mall of America, Kristen parked us in an area designated as Hawaii.
Kristen: Can you remember that we parked in Hawaii 15?
Me: *singing* It's not Hawaii Five-Oh, it's Hawaii One-Five!

Coupled with driving in an unfamiliar city, we had to negotiate detours due to the I35 W bridge that had collapsed a few months ago. We drove past one area where you could see wreckage that had been carefully removed and stored in order to later inspect. I was in charge of reading our mapquest directions while Kristen drove.
Me: Oh, look. You can see the wreckage from the--
Kristen: *yells* PAY ATTENTION!
Me: Oh, yeah. Take that exit. Sheesh.

At Urban Outfitters, I got myself a cute business card holder:


I also got a cute purple and silver wallet that was 50% off because a sticker had peeled off the silver in one one-inch square on the inside. Also got some adult Mad Libs for general merriment.

At LUSH I was bombarded by at least five different sales girls in the 10 minutes I was there. Argh. Just let me shop in peace! Anyway, I did end up buying three different soaps: Sultana for myself, Rock Star for my mom, and some rose stuff for myself, sister and someone else I can't name in case they happen to read my blog. Let's hope my sister doesn't read this before Christmas, either.

And dudes, I had the most delicious iced Nesquik chocolate drink at this little booth in MOA. So awesome. I crave it now. Crave. It. Must go check to see if there's a recipe online.

Also? Did I mention? At our fancy hotel, Kristen totally walked so hard into a set of automatic doors that she knocked them off the track. Yeah. It. Was. Awesome! I laughed a lot.

Tonight we took Jersey to see Santa at the newspaper, where they were taking pictures. Santa had on the rattiest costume ever, with a yellow-gray (and real) beard, cracked gloves that looked like they'd been in storage for 30 years, and matted, grayish fur on his suit. For shame, Santa. For shame.

"My chance to say something seemed so brief, but it wasn't. Now I know I had plenty of time."

Kristen and I are headed to Minneapolis this weekend to celebrate my birthday. Better late than never, right? It's going to definitely be a girls' shopping weekend. Mostly, I'm looking for a dressier winter coat (and warmer, since my Fashion Bug cheap-o coat isn't very cold-resistant). I'm hoping to check out Burlington Coat Factory and find some good deals. Maybe something similar to this:



We're also going to ride the Light Rail to the Mall of America. Oh, the shops we'll find there. I haven't been there in years, so this will be so excellent. Here's a few stores for you be oh, so jealous about: Burberry (not that I'll be able to fit into anything from there *sigh*), LUSH Boutique in Macy's, Staccato (Hong Kong fashion shoes), Gucci at Norstrom's, etc.

Oh, and let's not forget the reason we were first attracted to this particular weekend in the Twin Cities: http://www.nocoastcraft.com/

And hopefully we'll get to see Jolene and meet her gorgeous daughter for the first time!

Thanksgiving and the La-La Song

Here's a mini video of Jersey singing at the table on Thanksgiving. Of course my brother is an idiot and started talking/swearing over it while I was filming. And that's my girly voice chastising him. Maybe now that I know how to use this feature on my digital camera and how to upload, I can try again another time! :)

Personal ad faux pas.

Hey, fellas. I know that it's hard to meet that special someone out there. Sometimes you just have to do the unthinkable, something your buddies would razz you about--putting up a personals ad. It's okay. Don't be ashamed. All's fair in the search for love, right?

I've looked at some of your ads today, guys, and I gotta say, you're screwed. And not the way you'd no doubt like. So, to help you win some lady love, here's some free pointers.

Don't use a picture of yourself with a sucker in your mouth for your profile pic.

Don't claim to be 31 when you're obviously closer to retirement age.

Don't use the phrase "Seeking a Fishing Buddy" as your attention grabber. 1) Ask the guy at the bait shop to be your fishing buddy. 2) There's no reason to capitalize 'fishing' or 'buddy.'

Don't quote the movie "Airplane" if you ever hope to get nookie.

Don't use your high school yearbook photo and/or family portrait as your profile pic.

Don't post your ad without using SpellCheck. Twice.

"There is nothing fake about me, except my leg." Self-explanatory.

Don't call yourself Scooter, Ger, or Sparky.

Don't weight 350 pounds and report that your ideal woman is slender. Idiot.

Don't wrestle for the NFW then say you're looking for someone who isn't a "psyco nut job."

Don't use an apostrophe for a plural noun. Come on. Just...don't be an idiot.

Hope that helps! If anything, it's made me feel better.

Conversations

In my dream last night, I had been recruited to help kill evil vampires--
Guy, after giving me a tour of the headquarters: So, that's everything. Any questions?
Me: Um, yeah. How do these Storm Trooper outfits pertain to killing vampires?
Guy: Uh...

At a little country store yesterday--
Barb: That candle smells so nice!
Store Owner: Oh, doesn't it? You know what happened? When I first got it, it smelled so good that I leaned over to take a deeper sniff, and I burned my nose hairs! And my nose stunk all day. I didn't even know that could happen!

At fancy restaurant, Darla (my mom), John, and his mother having adult talk. Mom has just finished talking about work.
John: You know what, honey?
Darla: What?
John: As soon as all my surgeries (on his legs) are finished and I've healed up, I think I know the perfect job I can get.
Darla: (excited for him) Oh, really? What's that?
John: Taking pictures of Spider-Man.
Darla: *sighs* You're such a dork.

My grandma, Aunt Barb and I went shopping for several hours yesterday. I bought myself some delicious birthday presents:



That's Season 3, Part 1 of Ghost Hunters, the new Kanye West cd, earrings, bubble bath from Bath and Body Works, and two kinds of chocolate bars (those I shared with my aunt and grandma). Oh, and I bought a really cute sweater from J.C. Penney.

Also, the library ladies got me a chocolate cake for my birthday, and my co-worker Barb got me leaf-shaped chocolates from the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory in Duluth.





Also, it's my birthday and I'll John Mayer if I want to. Check out his blog for a new tune and a funny video parody. I tried to embed, but either Blogger is being a douchebag or they've screwed up the html for the video.

"I gotta go, Moe, my damn weiner kids are listening."

It's been a tiring week, y'all. Who opens their business at 7:30 in the morning?? It's crazy! April isn't made to be up that early. I guess I'll get used to it eventually, but I'm just a night person. Who spends entirely too much time reading.

I do like my new responsibilities at the newspaper, though. Obviously there are a lot of things still left to learn, but my co-workers are very helpful. SO different from the last newspaper I worked at, the bunch of crumb bums.

I'm getting super excited about the last weekend in the month, when Kristen and I are going into the Twin Cities to stay and celebrate my birthday a little late. There's a huge craft fair that looks like a rockin' time, and I think we're gonna hit the Mall of America, too.

There's some movies out that look pretty good. If only I had a movie-watching partner. I'm interested in August Rush, but I don't think I can justify theatre prices just because I love Keri Russell. Awake looks creepy, too.

The countdown begins, my friends. Just 5 measley days left until my final year of my twenties. *sigh* Frack.

When libraries attack

Worst. Week. Ever.

Saturday, after kicking out the stragglers at closing time, I locked up the library building and shut off the lights. Then, before leaving, I decided to go to the bathroom, where I was promptly stuck due to a broken lock.

So there I was, alone in a small bathroom, in an empty, locked building, and no one knowing that I needed help.

Luckily, I keep my purse in the bathroom, so I did have access to my cell phone. However, cell phones are virtually useless if you have no service and/or your battery is about to die. I kept trying to call home, but the phone continued to disconnect.

Now, I'm about the least emotional girl you're likely to meet. And I am not one for hysterics (it's just too uncivilized). But I had my first full-blown, Level 10 panic attack. Complete with hyperventilation. And tears. Dudes, I don't do tears.

Finally, I got my message through to Gramps, who promised to get help. An hour and 45 minutes later, my grandparents, a cop, a street department employee, and a locksmith had made their way through the building entrance. I had calmed myself down plenty by then. But did they ask if I was okay? No. They stood outside the door laughing. Someone rattled the doorknob and asked if I was in there. Because I could have disappeared somehow.

I heard someone ask, "How old is she? And she's the librarian?" As if I was an idiot who couldn't figure out how to unlock the door. They didn't get it through their stupid male brains that the lock was jammed, broken.

We took the doorknobs off, after the first brilliant idea to poke a pin through the hole in the doorknob to pop the lock. (Still operating under the pretense that I didn't know how to unlock a door.) The locksmith couldn't unjam the lock, so he slipped a flat crowbar through the knob opening, and I pried on the doorjamb while he applied pressure on the outside of the door. The door finally swung open.

Then the cop said, "Sometimes a credit card will just pop those locks open. Did you think to try that?" Because surely a credit card would work better than a crowbar. Then the street dept. guy said, "Well, that'll teach you a lesson to always carry your cell phone." And continued with a story about a 6-year-old girl who shut the light off in the bathroom before unlocking the door, and how she was stuck for about half an hour before they could calm her down to find the light switch. Because that really relates to me being stuck in an empty building with a door lock that's freaking jammed!

Mother of my father, I was ticked off!

And on Monday I was diagnosed with strep throat. It was horrible. I stayed home all week until today.

Yesterday my boss at the same library called me. "Um, April? I'm locked in the bathroom." Yes, the door had struck again. I was going to bring tools to help her get out, but then she called information and had the locksmith come over. But the weird thing is, just her mentioning being locked in the bathroom caused my hands to start shaking and my legs to tremble for about 30 minutes afterwards.

Also, poor little Jersey had a dentist appointment yesterday to get caps on two teeth that were chipped. When she woke up, she was hysterically crying because she didn't understand why she couldn't stand on her own and why her mouth was numb. She kept screaming, "My bones aren't alive anymore!" :( Poor pumpkin.

A teenaged girl flipped me off this morning on my way to work. And no, before you comment, she wasn't someone I'd kicked off a computer at the library. I'd never seen her before. I was just minding my own business at the stop sign, patiently waiting for the car she was in to make their turn, when she stared me down and gave me the finger. And after I'd just defended how well the teenagers in my town had behaved on Halloween night. Stupid skank.

I will be starting new work hours at the newspaper next week. On Monday, they'll be setting up my new desk and Mac computer (cuz I gets ta start typesettin' press releases, yo!). And I have a fancy desktop nameplate. I'd post a pic, but I can't be displaying my full name on the Internets. I haven't actually seen my own yet, but I did see my boss' nameplate. Very nice.

So, last night while my brother went to work (full-time! benefits! 401k!), I helped take care of Aaliyah. She's finally accepted me and doesn't pull away if I try to hold her. In fact, I'm the silly aunt who likes to make funny noises and play "So big!" and give her little bits of Cheetos.





Also, while I was taking care of Aaliyah, I was peed, pooped, and puked on. In hockey, they call that a hat-trick. So, as I was leaving for the evening, wearing a cast-off pair of Amanda's jeans because mine had been soaked in baby poo, I serenaded my mother (who was cleaning up another mess) with my own version of "Proud to be an American."

"And I'm proud that I'm not a parent,
'cuz at least I know I'm free.
And that I get to go home
while you clean up that pee."

And how did I forget to post this pic of Jerz with the fake teeth that one family gave instead of candy? Would this make her the Grim Vampire?

Also, as a woman was leaving the library this morning, she stopped, turned to look at me and said, "You have incredible eyes, by the way." It was much nicer than being flipped off, I must say.

"I may occasionally kill out of anger, or to illustrate a point, but I'm no Grim Reaper!"

The third stop on the Halloween trail (the first and second being the newspaper and the library) was Grandma and Grandpa's house. In case you can't tell, that's Jersey under that Grim Reaper costume. And yes, she could see very well.



The Grim Reaper selects a Spooky Sucker.



Aww, there she is without the mask. Don't you love her fashionable skull necklace?

She wanted me to take a picture of her smiling pumpkin. Didn't know the Grim Reaper wore pink shoes, did you?

Had to take a pic of this kid's costume because it was so awesome. That's a shark with a scuba diver's legs hanging out of its mouth.

Amanda and Jerz. We took turns getting out of the warm car to take Jersey out in the chilly Halloween evening for candy.

Amanda's turn.

My turn.

Ghostie and Grimmie.

Homer and the Grim Reaper, sans mask.

After we got home, we made pizza mummies

and watched the Ghosthunters live investigation of the Waverly Hills Sanatorium in Kentucky. Topped off by a couple of treats from Jersey's trusty pumpkin bucket. A fine evening, indeed.

Weekend Visit

So we finally pried Aaliyah away from the evil clutches of her mother for an overdue weekend visit with her daddy, Aaron.



Unfortunately, she hasn't seen me since July, so she doesn't remember me. She didn't want anything to do with me, other than an occasional high-five and a reach for my camera.



And this girl could screech the house down if her daddy walked away. But who couldn't forgive this little cutie?

And would you look at those stinking adorable dimples!

Bonus pic: Jersey and Aunt Barbie grinning for the camera.

"She's got knee-high socks, what to cover a bruise."

I took down my last post about my grandma because I kinda felt disrespectful sharing such an intimate moment, frightening as it was. She hasn't had any other episodes like that since, though I know that her future inevitably holds more.

Fantastic news, my brother gets to have Aaliyah this weekend! He hasn't had her since August, when there was a huge blow-up between Aaron and Nikki. He has since filed for divorce and for custody of Aaliyah. So far, he just has visitation rights. Nikki keeps making stuff up about him. She lied a few times in court yesterday and got caught. She didn't have a lawyer; Aaron did. Anyway, we all can't wait to finally get to spend time with Aaliyah. Which means I'll be digging out that digital camera.

(Update: They just dropped Aaliyah off with only the outfit she has on and one diaper, not a single other thing. Nice.)

The Other White Rachel has invited Kristen and me to come stay at her house when Kristen turns 30, so about another year and a half. That means tons of food, TV watching, Target shopping, and Simpsons quoting. And maybe a quick trip to Vegas. Sounds like fun to me!

Sick and creepy

I'm sick. :( I didn't go to work at either the library or the newspaper on Friday. I did do a couple hours of proofreading today, but I still feel like crap.

And yet, I have slaved away at burning cds and making the cd covers. You know what's time-consuming? Stenciling each individual letter of the cd title, "Hot -n- Creepy." Methinks I won't be taking that route next time 'round.

Really? No takers? Hmm. You no likey some Bowie? Or Sufjan Stevens? Or The Eels? Okay, too bad for you, then.

Halloween Mix

Okay, my precious ghouls and goblins, I have a little treat for a couple of lucky readers. I have a deliciously dark and disturbing mix cd just in time for Halloween that I made for a few friends, and I have just two left over. Anyone interested?

Email me with your name and address: newdorktimes at gmail dot com.* If I get multiple takers, I'll just draw two of the names randomly.

There's just one catch: You must be someone who has never received a mix from me before. So no matter whether you've only commented on Love the Details a few times, never at all, or if this is your first time stopping by, you are eligible for this mix.

So what are you waiting for? Email me!

*I promise not to reveal your name or address to any other person or to blog about it.

Stupid Michael Scott! And Kristen!

Yesterday as a teenage girl was leaving the library, she stopped to tell me that she wasn't using the computer anymore. Except she said, "I'm getting off."

And before common sense kicked in, I almost blurted out, "That's what she said!"

Dude! Do you know how much trouble I would have been in if I'd said that? To a teenage girl? Ay Dios mio!

Texting, texting, 1 2 3

Text conversations with Kristen:

K: OOO ... I have a new match on eHarmony and his name is ... wait for it ...
A: uh-oh
K: Constantine! hahahaha
A: !!!!!!!!!!!!!! How appropriate!
A: As your dad actually made a fake account and calls himself Constantine! hahahahahaha
K: Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww! That's just wrong!
A: Or is it right?
K: No.
A: Maybe?
K: No.
A: Think about it. Carry the 9.
K: No.
A: Now subtract 3.
K: Ah, yes.

K: Zach is funnier.
A: In his gross beard dreams.
K: I LOVE beardy boys SHUT IT!
A: Yuckkkkkk.
K: DELISH.
and tickle-y
Actually, I've never made out with a beardy boy before, just stubbley.
And that was ouchie.
Stubble burn on my face.
A: hahaha I thought you wrote "stubble butt on my face."
K: ewwww! LOL
A: haha
K: I don't want to know how you get stubble on your butt.
gag
A: Your butt, not mine.
K: No, your butt.
Good grief! We're 5.
A: No, we're 4.

K: Ooooooo. Here comes the cute dark hair'd deep voice'd boy
mmmmm
yum
A: As you fart loudly.
K: LOL. NOT FUNNY. (or is it?)

K: I came out of my office just a little bit ago and some girl on a computer glared at me and gave me a dirty look!
If only she knew the power I have (i.e. fines up the wazoo!)
A: You should have silently made a sliced throat motion.
K: LOL
THAT would have gone over well.

K: I'm ordering a mini-basketball with your face on it. ha ha ha ha ha ha That would be AWESOME!
A: I'm ordering a mini-douche with your face on it.
lolololololol
K: GROSS. :(
A: heehee
K: that hort my fweings
fewings
A: PUNCH
K: I can't even type baby talk right.
round house kick
feewings
whateves
they're hurt
that's the point
hurting
ouchie
sore
fry
cry
i mean
not fry
mmmmm...fry
A: Oh, lord. How much sugar did you have today?

"You will become a great bore in your later years."

Have you noticed that the fortunes in Chinese restaurant fortune cookies are just getting worse all the time? How difficult is it to make up fortunes, anyway? Kristen and I had a ton of suggestions when Ms. Llew was seeking fortune ideas for a party. Of course, we weren't savvy enough to realize she'd been looking for Harry Potter-themed fortunes, but still. They're pretty awesome. Some of them anyway.

Here's one that my sister got just a few days ago when we went to a local Chinese restaurant for dinner.

"Time heals most everything. Give it time, time."

*gag*

And here's one Krista got a few years ago.

"If it doesn't work vertically or horizontally, try diagonally."

What the crap does that even mean???

The worst one I ever received said, "You enjoy competitive sports." No. No, I don't. That's not even remotely true. And it isn't a fortune! It's a false statement. Fortunes involve actually predicting that something will happen. For example, "Beware of the silver Cadillac. The driver's a real prick." Wouldn't you want to know ahead of time to watch out for a prick driving a silver Caddy? I sure would!

For fun, try a Bad Cookie.

"Good. Because I know that you know deep down that you deserve to be punished." ~Dolores Umbridge

I've picked up a habit from Kristen, who I believe picked it up from her friend Kate. And that habit is casually reprimanding people (without them hearing you) for being idiots in some way or another, by starting out a sentence with "Don't ..." Some things have been bothering me lately, so I'm going to post my current Don't List. I'm sure you'll find yourself picking up the habit sooner or later. Feel free to add to the list.

Don't ...

1) Wear brown rouge, ladies, unless you want to appear like an extra on the set of a zombie flick.

2) Take up the whole store aisle with your cart, then glare and flare your nostrils because people don't know which direction to go to get out of your way. And yes, I did loudly call you a snot, and you should thank your lucky stars I didn't launch a full-blown public chastisement. You're an adult, so start acting like it.

3) Be a bitchy librarian, complete with Dolores Umbridge affectations. Just because you speak in soft tones doesn't mean you are being polite. And don't tell me that I need to track down a patron for him to return materials, lady, because 1) he's your patron and 2) they're your library items.

4) Show your butt crack when you sit down or bend over. Have some freaking self-awareness.

5) Try to explain what exactly the sign means on the clearance shelf, Kmart employee, when you can't even figure out what's 75% off of $1.

6) Send me Myspace surveys with titles like "The Penis Game" and "What's Your Transvestite Name?"

"The face of a child can say it all, especially the mouth part of the face." ~Jack Handey

Well, this is a few weeks after the event, but better late than never. Amanda and I took Jersey to a local pumpkin patch for good times galore. Here's Amanda and her lil one posing behind a "pumpkin truck."



Wait, which one's the pumpkin?



I imagine his name is Ole. This is Wisconsin, you know.



One giant pumpkin, at your service.



Sorry I couldn't straighten this pic. This particular computer was being jerky.



The three of us went on a wagon ride through a cornfield and the woods. Or the jungle, as Jersey insisted it was called.



On the wagon. I'm helping to raise a goofball. At least I've done something right with my life. ;)



There was even a petting zoo at the pumpkin patch. I added this picture just for Kristen.



Feeding the goat some corn. He was a very gentle goat. I know some men who could take lessons.



Jerz and I in an old houseboat that's moored upon a ginormous mound of haybales.



I've had this picture blown up with pretty borders around it for family members.



Jersey holding a pretty kitty, which promptly scratched her poor, pudgy hands.