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Wife. Mommy. Lover of cookies.

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RT @HonestToddler: Toddler Tip: She has a bounty of nerves underneath that "last" one. Don't worry :)

Archive: April 2004

Time Flies

Four years ago today was the best day of my life. Happy Anniversary, baby. Thank you for making every day special.

Feast or Famine

It’s always like that here at the Donahue household. When we got married, we were fully prepared for life’s ups and downs, but we somehow expected that there would be a lot of flatland in between. Nope. Not us.
After a shitty 2003 (really the worst year we’ve ever had, what with me being out of work and all), it seems that we were due for some good fortune (isn’t that, after all, how karma works?). I’ve been a good girl, and Kevin mostly behaves, so we figure we deserve some good. I don’t think we quite had the last few weeks in mind, though. Within 2 weeks time, we’ve both gotten HUGE raises. Not just a little bit. HUGE. MASSIVE. Life-changing.
Mine came today, like a pretty bow on top of my big fat promotion. Sitting on my doorstep when I got home today were my tickets for the Bahamas. A couple of months ago, we got great new neighbors. Kevin got a new car. My dog’s tumor was benign. My wedding anniversary is tomorrow. I bought 10 lottery tickets, just in case this lucky streak holds out. I’ll let you know.
Seriously, though, we do have our ups and downs. There’s just nothing in the middle. That’s okay. I’m an extreme kinda girl.

Take Me Down To Paradise City

Yes, it’s true. In just under 5 weeks, we’ll be headed out to the beach house (which I’m pretty sure is the reason Kevin married me….after all, he did propose there). First Buffett, then the beach, then bushwackers. I can hear the surf now……. The best part? The house is on a tiny little island in the middle of nowhere, with nothin’ but a small local bar. No tourists, no interruptions, nothing other than sand, surf, and sleep. Corona commercials ain’t got nothin’ on my life……

Validation, At Last

I have a shameful secret. I am addicted to In Touch magazine. I can’t help it. Every week, I hand over my copy to the pimply-faced teenager at the grocery store checkstand, like it’s an afterthought. The sad truth, however, is that I go out of my way to do my grocery shopping on the day the new issue is due out. I’ve even started shopping at a different grocery store, because they always have it a day sooner.
Sure, I could read People. Then, I wouldn’t have to be embarassed. I mean, everybody reads People, right? Even Us Weekly has a certain…..well, if not respectability factor, then at least it’s not shameful. Here’s my problem: I don’t care about the human interest stories that these loftier publications include. A dog found its way home after 3 years? Great. Good boy. I could care less. All I want is the grainy photo of Britney Spears’ cellulite taken by the telescopic lens of an enterprising member of the paparazzi. Is that too much to ask?
I’d rather buy condoms AND tampons from the kid at the supermarket than hand over my In Touch. I can’t even make eye contact. But I’ll keep going back, week after week, because I can’t not read about Demi and Ashton’s baby dilemma. Yeah, I could get a subscription, but then the postman would know. What if my neighbors saw? (Shut up, Josh and Camille). So I’ll endure the looks and snickers, the furtive glances of my fellow shoppers, and I’ll buy my In Touch at the store every week. A girl’s gotta have her vices. And I’m not the only one, either.

Nothin’ To Say

We went over to the Cooper’s last night for a bit, where I got to hold the sweet baby. I worked all last week. I was off yesterday. I worked today, and I work this whole week. We’re going on vacation in exactly 5 weeks (hooray!).
See? I told ya I had nothing to say.

Hi, My Name Is Merrin

And I’m a friggin’ idiot. You see, I have a slight problem. I never miss Troy Dungan‘s 6:00 PM forecast on Channel 8. Kevin even set it to Tivo every night. So there I was, watching last night. I believed him when he said no rain until Thursday. I trust Troy. After all, isn’t that what they tell you to do? Trust Troy? It seems I have become one of those people who, instead of going outside, feel compelled to check the Weather Channel or ask their spouse what the weather’s like.
As I was leaving work today, I was talking to a girl who works for me. She commented on how gray and yucky it was outside, and how “the skies are about to open up”. Not true, I said. Troy said no rain until Thursday. Did I look outside? Nope. I trusted Troy. Please bear in mind that I was standing not 3 feet from the front door. The glass front door. The sliding glass front door. I turned to leave. I even made it out from under the overhang. I was still a Babe in Troyland.
Then the skies opened up, and I got drenched. I feel so betrayed.

Flower Mound: Population 50,700

And 1. Congratulations Josh and Camille! May your new bundle of joy be blessed with all the happiness that you two bring to the lives of others!

Whole Lotta Shakin’

I am mystified. There seems to be a recent spike in the urge to “shake it”. As I have now completed a significant amount of research on the subject, I feel that I can speak with some authority. Allow me to explain:
While driving home last night, I had my radio tuned in to, let’s say, the local Top 40 station (you may mock me later). Right there, loud and clear, through my speakers, two gentlemen who have bestowed upon themselves the moniker “The Ying Yang Twins“, invited me to “shake it like a salt shaker“. Unfortunately, as these were the only lyrics I could understand, I was a bit unsure just what they were requesting I shake.
Not too long ago, Kelis informed me that her milkshake brings all the boys to the yard. She then offered to help me perfect my own milkshake. However, the last time I checked, Kevin was perfectly content with my milkshake, so I politely declined her offer. Plus, she was going to charge me for her services, and I’m kinda cheap.
Outkast, too, has told us to “shake it like a Polaroid picture”. The kind folks at Polaroid, however, ever-vigilant of the public’s well-being, were quick to let us know that shaking it negatively impacts the proper development of the photograph. The best thing about this song, by the way, is one’s ability to imitate Beavis (Shaaaake it! Yeah, shake it!)
This is not an entirely new phenomenon. Some of you will remember The Cars, who commanded us to “shake it up“. Those were kinder, gentler times to be sure. I knew what it was I was being told to shake. Now, I’m confused.
Kevin is baffled by my listening choices. He stares, amazed, while I sing along with Eamon (hey, any song that let’s me drop the F-Bomb as much as that one is fun and kind of liberating). What’s more, he doesn’t understand quite how I can listen to a Bach concerto one minute and Nick Cannon the next. I’m a Renaissance woman, what can I say? Seriously, though. What, exactly, are we shaking? Are we endangering ourselves or others? I know one thing: Kevin is shaking his head right about now.

Catching Up

I’m spending today playing catch-up with my regularly scheduled life. I have two weeks’ worth of Sopranos to watch, which in itself is a testament to just how hectic life has been around the Donahue household. The good news is that Kevin stayed home from work today, so we should be able to get at least that knocked out! 😉
We already went to the grocery store, I’ve planned the meals for the week, I cleaned up the house, and I’ve even unpacked from our weekend away. On that note, I have to take a minute to rave about Texas De Brazil. Wow. The service was fantastic, the food was phenomenal, and the drinks were damn near lethal. Yes, it’s way expensive, but it was very worth it. Mom’s birthday dinner was definitely a hit, thanks to roving waiters with meat on sticks!
Sunday was spent at my sister’s farm with the McCallum clan—Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, even my grandmother, who is walking again (with assistance). All in all, an eventful Easter/Mom’s Birthday weekend. It looks like next weekend is going to be just as busy, since I think we’ll be heading out here for a little beer and Beach Boys. Other than that, we’re just trying to hang on, since life seems to be speeding up quite a bit lately!
Have a great week, everybody!

Happy Easter!

Here’s hoping the big flying bell found you this year and left you lots of chocolate!

Family Time

Kevin’s coming home early today, which will be nice. This weekend will be spent in Fort Worth (well, after I come home from work tomorrow, that is). Saturday, we’re taking my Mom here for her birthday, which is really on Sunday, but it’s kinda hard to find anything open on Easter.
Then it’s to the farm on Saturday, to spend the holiday with the rest of the McCallum clan. We’ll be staying in Ft. Worth on Saturday night, which will be a special treat for the dogs, since they’ll get to play with Gramma Cheryl!

Jesus, Peeps, And a Flying Bell

In anticipation of the Rabbit of Easter, I give you this.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go gather two morsels of lumber to ready my celebration of the little boy of god who…..oh, shit.

The Return Of Drunk Girl

Um….I mean Drunk Boy.
Yes, that’s right. He called me at 1:33 in the AM this morning. He will never learn…..

That being said, I just got off the phone with him, and he is, indeed, again intoxicated. I so totally want to go on these kinds of “business” trips. Apparently, he took my advice and started the day off right: two Bloody Mary’s and then all the beer he could drink. Tomorrow, they close Canal Street and throw a private Mardi Gras parade.
I wish I was there. I wish he was here.

I Miss You

Come home soon.

You May Now Bow To My Authority

Ok. So I saw this at Corey’s, but it was so very much my kind of thing that I had to shout it from the mountaintops. It is, in fact, true. I am a goddess of all things grammatical.
Now, what about you?

Grammar God!
You are a GRAMMAR GOD!

If your mission in life is not already to
preserve the English tongue, it should be.
Congratulations and thank you!

How grammatically sound are you?
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