Aug. 30: My blood type is coffee

Last night during our semi-regular AA meeting in the Castañedas’ driveway, Rob told us about his disgusting coffee habit. That is not to say coffee is disgusting. Coffee is liquid manna. But the way Rob drinks it is just vile: he brews a pot, drinks some, and then finishes the rest over the next few days. He re-heats it and adds a bunch of stuff each day.

Cristina suggested that he probably drank icky coffee in the military. Rob didn’t respond because he was too busy defending himself.


This morning as I sipped my fresh cup of energy, I thought about it again. What exactly is so disgusting about day-old coffee? I couldn’t figure it out on my own, so I consulted the omnipotent Google for some answers. Well, maybe not answers so much as opinions. Here’s what I found:

• Old coffee turns bitter (has something to do with the tannins it releases as it sits)
  
• If left out (unrefrigerated) coffee absorbs odors
  
• Old coffee goes stale. It won’t hurt you, but it will not taste good.

I was a little disappointed in these Google results. I thought for sure I’d find evidence that day-old coffee causes hangnails or genital warts. Stupid Google.

Whether old coffee should be tossed or not is debatable, but the general consensus is that old coffee is yucky, ‘specially if it’s got floaters.

My mom, who considers coffee a vehicle for French vanilla creamer, also does not care too much about how old her coffee is or how much water she has to add to it to dilute the coffee flavor. My mom is clearly cuckoo-for-cocoa-puffs.

And lest ye conclude that I am a coffee snob, I offer this story:

Victor and I used to buy fresh coffee beans and grind them each morning. They were a good brand (expensive) and we considered ourselves coffee snobs—not connoisseurs, just choosy. Eventually we started buying the beans already ground because it saved time in the mornings. And then we started buying store brand coffee—still (supposedly) better quality than Folgers, but cheaper than Seattle’s Best or Starbucks. We started feeling less snobbish. One day we decided to just try Folgers, and surprise, surprise: it tasted just fine, dammit. This was very distressing to both of us, because we had to consider ourselves the opposite of coffee snobs at that point. Now we drink pretty much anything, but I draw the line at old coffee. Sorry, Rob, but that’s just... it’s just bleah. I don’t know why. It just is.

Aug. 29: Hello, I’m Carol Brady

Y’know what I think is so great about my blog? Every single entry is important, profound, and meaningful. I think that’s something to be proud of, don’t you? And so, this afternoon I bring one more Post o’ Pithiness.

My hair is weird.

I’ve always had a lot of hair with a little bit of natural wave in it. When I let it grow long it used to be straight because it’s very heavy, but cut chin-length it was usually a little wavy. Over the years the color has certainly changed—the older I got, the darker it got, and now it’s getting lighter because of the grey.

In 2005, my hair quite suddenly went curly. A few hair expert-types told me that extreme emotional distress can manifest itself in changes to hair—just like it can affect other parts of our systems—and said the grief over my dad’s death could very well have made my hair go all wonky. (This infuriates my straight-haired sister, who insists she misses Dad too but didn’t get anything “good” for her grief.)

I don’t know if losing my dad had anything to do with the new curliness of my hair, but the timing makes sense and nothing else really does. Some people have said, “Oh, that’s so sweet! It’s like a gift from your dad!” Those people don’t know that my dad hated when I wore my hair curly. When I was in high school he hated it so much, in fact, that he offered to pay me if I would get my perm cut off. I not only took the cash, I made him pay for the haircut at a fancy place and a complete line of salon hair care products too. He totally did.

So, if anything, my curls are just pissing Dad off as he views me from above (or below... there’s a good chance it’s from below...). And while I thought it was kinda cool at first, I often wish I had my old hair back. Adjusting to non-permed hair that insists on being curly all on its own has been a challenge. I’m not going to complain a whole bunch because—to some people—that would sound like bitching about having too much money or being too darn thin. In the past three years I’ve gone back and forth between living with the natural curl and fighting with the natural curl; it’s a ton of work to straighten when it’s long, but the curl is uneven enough that I have to use lots of product to get it to look alright if I let it go natural.

When I went in for a cut last month I asked for something that could enhance the curl. Now I can let my hair air-dry with a little gel and it ends up nicely shaped with fairly even curls. However—as I realized last week—if I blow-dry and straighten it... well, I have a freakin’ mullet.


And not to say there are good mullets, but this is an excessively bad one.

We’re stayin’ curly for a while, alrighty?


P.S. Yikes—I need a brow wax. Why does that fact show up so obviously on film and not where it should, in the mirror?
P.S.2. Dan, I always enjoy your great comments on my political posts. I’m challenging you to think up something insightful to say about this hair post. Good luck.

Aug. 29: My open letter to McCain

Dear Mr. McCain:

I used to like you. When you first started showing up in election-related news many years ago, you seemed like a decent guy with good ideas and a sense of humor. You seemed like a Republican I might even be able to get behind.

And I’d definitely like to get behind you now. I’d like to get behind you and shove you in front of your nursing home shuttle bus.

Because what happened to you? I mean, besides getting incredibly old and mean. Once upon a time I thought you were different than George W. Bush—the biggest mistake our country ever made—and that if we couldn’t get a decent Democrat back in office, at least you were better than President Doofus. But that’s not true anymore. In some ways I think you might even be worse, because you want to be a more-of-the-same president. And I gotta tell ya, that’s bad. That’s real bad.

Remember when people were going nuts over how frequently John Kerry talked about his military experience? Even his supporters were like, enough already, dude. But now you’re doing it too. We know you were a POW; we’re reminded every time we look at you. I am impressed and grateful for the things you endured for our country, but there are other things we care about too.

You did gain a few points with me for announcing Dwight Schrute as your running mate; unfortunately, you were joking. I never would have voted for the two of you anyway, but it was amusing. Your actual choice as of today, Sarah Palin, is amusing as well. According to her Wikipedia page (100% factual, as always), she’s really somethin’.

Ultimately, the problem is that I don’t see you making positive changes for our country; I see you taking us further down this very wrong road we’ve been on for way too long. Remember how united we all felt after 9/11? President A-hole managed to fracture that by lying to us so he could play cowboys and Indians—in the name of “enduring freedom”—even when most of the world was against it. And because of his ego, now most of the world hates us more than ever. If you were elected, I see you doing pretty much the same thing but-cept it would be Operation Enduring Mission Accomplished. No thanks.

But, y’know, fine. Continue presenting yourself as Yosemite Sam, Mr. McCain, because for some reason you think that’s what will win you the White House. And then on November 5, when you’re sitting around wondering where you went wrong (duh!), just remember my advice: do what Bob Dole and Al Gore did after they lost their elections; relax and be yourself. Make people like you again. Make people think you’re not the bad guy you seemed to be during the mud-slinging race. Make people imagine it might not have been so bad if you’d been elected.

I miss the old John McCain and sure would like to like you (as a regular old dude) again.

Well, that’s all for now. With a potential love that could echo in the vast and enduring space between your ancient, hairy ears—

Aug. 26: Advice for a young boy

1. When your mom’s trying to cut carbs and is a teensy bit grouchy, you should not defy her in any way. If she asks you to pick up your Legos, for instance, you should do it, and you should do it immediately. Because if you don’t, she may backhand you, and remember she’s got that one pokey ring.
   
   
   
   
2. When your mom’s trying to cut carbs and cannot seem to get a good night’s sleep, you might consider keeping your things and self out of her way. And if she trips over the light saber you left on the stairs one more time, she will almost certainly inject peanut butter under your skin and encourage the dogs to nibble at you until they get to it.
   
   
   
   
3. When your mom’s trying to cut carbs and asks you to eat M&Ms for breakfast just so she can watch and enjoy them vicariously, you should do it. Yes, she’s finally lost it, and yes, you should probably get her some help. But just eat the damn M&Ms already, okay? She’s tired of seeing them whenever she accidentally opens the Cabinet o’ Carbohydrates™ and they make her want to drag you by the ankles across the unswept kitchen floor. (Also, you should sweep the kitchen floor for her.)
   
   
   
   
4. When your mom’s trying to cut carbs and has absolutely no energy and you won’t stop asking to go to the store and buy more Legos no matter how many times she says you already have too many, you should fully expect her to shove your face against the curb and stand on it until a neighbor sees.
   
   
   
   
5. When your mom’s trying to cut carbs and just wants to stop thinking about how much she’d like to have a bowl of pasta, you can bet she doesn’t want to hear every detail about your trip to Spaghetti Factory with Grandpa and Grandma yesterday. And if you insist on telling her about it anyway, she has every right to threaten you with the grater she’s using to make her Caesar salad without croutons.
   
   
   
   
6. Lastly, (and this one applies whether or not your mom’s cutting carbs), when you’re running from a bee, PLEASE watch where you’re going so you don’t bonk into a tree.

Fine, it’s too late; just file this info away in your noodle because you will need it again someday. You are my son, after all.

(Mmmmm... noodles...)

Aug. 23: Let them eat paste!

‘Member when the most exciting thing on our school supplies list was a binder? We could pick out the cool three-fold ones and then prop them up on our desks like cubicle walls so our classmates couldn’t cheat off our work. That was so awesome, huh?

Having gone to private schools—and I’m not bragging about this; until college my education was little more than religion with just enough math and science thrown in to satisfy the state requirements—I was unaware of the expenses of public education. With the budget cuts in so many school districts, it’s surprising the things that parents are now expected to provide. I’m not complaining; I’m simply saying that things sure are different.

For instance, nowadays—at least in our school district, and in our kids’ grades—supplies are brought to school and thrown together to be shared by the entire classroom. No pencils engraved with names. No artistically personalized glue bottles. No gloating over how one kids’ crayon tips are nice and sharp, while the others are all broken and from a restaurant. We’re also required to send items that were never on my school supplies list, like large boxes of Kleenex, baby wipes, bottles of waterless hand sanitizer, graham crackers, paper plates, wiggle eyes, etc. You get the idea.

The biggest change, though, is that we bring enough supplies in September so that they’ll last the entire school year. This means that instead of sending our kid with a box of crayons and replacing them in a few months, we bring six boxes of crayons on the first day of school. Three bottles of Elmer’s glue. Eighteen glue sticks. Three dozen sharpened #2 pencils. Right now our dining room table looks like a stationery aisle at a grocery store. Actually, it looks like TWO stationery aisles, because we have two kids’ worth of supplies.

The only exciting thing on the school supplies list these days—because it’s the one item we’re allowed to personalize—is a backpack. This year Katie got a sparkly silver Hannah Montana one, and Jack got a 3-D one of The Clone Wars. They will undoubtedly want new ones within a couple months.

I’ve been to six different stores looking for school supplies and many are already out of stock of the more popular items. So that mom running into school late on the first day, screaming “I found them, I found them”? That mom will be me, and I’ll be dragging bags overflowing with 18 glue sticks, Prang colored pencils, Crayola watercolors, a Twin-tip black Sharpie, a black pocket folder, hand sanitizer, graham crackers, and Zip-loc bags that the stores finally re-stocked. Because the rest of you did this shopping months ago, right?

(And that kinda makes me hate you a leetle bit.)

Aug. 22: One ringy-dingy...

This might be a fun meme. Are you one of those people that have loud, obnoxious ringtones? What are some of the ringtones you use on your cell phone and why did you choose them?

Ed and I were just talking about this the other night. I have ringtones assigned to different callers so I know if I should run for my phone or not. I chose these rings because the songs are right-ish for the callers, but also because all of them can be easily heard over the normal noise of my day. I do not have “Baby Got Back” assigned to anyone, in case you were wondering.

• When Victor calls: “Close to You” by the Carpenters. Because I’m a dork, that’s why.
  
• When Mom (Mary) calls: “Jolly Holiday” from Mary Poppins—the part where it goes “Oh, it’s a jolly holiday with Mary, Mary makes your ‘eart so light, when the day is gray and ordinary, Mary makes the sun shine bright” (this one always makes me smile, both because it’s my mom calling and because Dick Van Dyke’s Cockney accent is so hilariously bad)
  
• When Kathy calls: “Sisters” from White Christmas. How perfect to associate one of my all-time favorite songs from one of my all-time favorite movies with one of my all-time favorite people!
  
• When work people call: “Heigh Ho, Heigh Ho” from Snow White
  
• When my in-laws or grandma call: “We Are Family” by Sister Sledge (thankfully, it’s almost never Grandma)
  
• My everyone-else ring: the woo-hoo-yee-hoo part of “The Sweet Escape” by Gwen Stefani
  
• Haven’t made this one yet, but when Ed calls: “Hollaback Girl” by Gwen Stefani—his suggestion

BTW, if you want to make your own ringtones, go to downloads.com and get one of their ringtone makers. There are several to choose from, and most have week-long free trials or so; if you make your own then you don’t have to pay the phone company for stuff that ends up not working anyway.

Please share your answers in a comment or your own blog.

Aug. 20: My bruises will acquit me

Last Saturday morning I was getting myself primped and polished before our day in Salem with the Lassens. Primping and polishing, for me, does not usually involve an especially lengthy amount of time because I’ve reached that point where I’m pretty sure no one cares what I look like and I’ve almost convinced myself that I don’t either. So it’s not like I was working hard to get ready. I think my primping involved a hair dryer and my polishing was pretty much wrinkle cream and mascara.

Hang on a minute. I need to cry a little over how pathetic that is.

Alright, I’m okay now.

Just as I was finishing up, I knocked a coffee mug off the counter and guess where it landed? If you’ve been paying attention to The Clumsy Adventures of Jen, you know that it landed right on my foot. Two of my toes almost immediately turned a beautiful shade of eggplant.

The other thing about this that should not be surprising is that it was not my coffee mug that fell, but my husband’s. And it was one of those large and very heavy 20-ounce Starbucks city mugs. (Now do you believe he’s trying to kill me?)

Don’t worry; I’ve already planned out my revenge. I scrubbed the shower today, top to bottom, and it is so freakin’ slippery I almost got revenge on myself. So, yeah. Victor will be sorry he left that mug on the counter. And laughed when I showed him my swollen foot. And married someone with too much time on her hands.

Aug. 19: I’m a bad omnivore, I guess

This list was originally created by Andrew at Very Good Taste. He believes every self-respecting omnivore should have tried these 100 foods at least once in their life. I stole it from Momma Blogs a Lot but modified the instructions a bit for the HTML-impaired.

• Copy this list into your blog (including these instructions) or a comment below
  
• **Asterisk all the items you’ve eaten, and include comments if you’d like.
  
• --Put hyphens at the beginning of any items that you would never consider eating.

---

1. **Venison
   
2. Nettle tea
   
3. **Huevos rancheros
   
4. --Steak tartare (thanks, but I prefer meat that does not moo or neigh as I eat it)
   
5. --Crocodile
   
6. --Black pudding
   
7. **Cheese fondue
   
8. Carp
   
9. Borscht
   
10. Baba ghanoush
    
11. --Calamari
    
12. Phở
    
13. **PB&J sandwich
    
14. Aloo gobi
    
15. **Hot dog from a street cart
    
16. Époisses de Bourgogne
    
17. Black truffle
    
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
    
19. **Steamed pork buns
    
20. **Pistachio ice cream
    
21. Heirloom tomatoes (I hate tomatoes, don’t care how special they are)
    
22. **Fresh wild berries
    
23. Foie gras
    
24. **Rice and beans
    
25. --Brawn or head cheese
    
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper
    
27. **Dulce de leche
    
28. **Oysters
    
29. **Baklava
    
30. Bagna càuda
    
31. Wasabi peas
    
32. **Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
    
33. Salted lassi (Salted Lassie? That’s horrible!)
    
34. **Sauerkraut (mmmmm... reuben sandwich...)
    
35. **Root beer float
    
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
    
37. **Clotted cream tea
    
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
    
39. **Gumbo
    
40. Oxtail
    
41. --Curried goat
    
42. --Whole insects (‘cept that one time on a bike ride)
    
43. Phaal
    
44. **Goat’s milk
    
45. Malt whiskey from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
    
46. --Fugu (though the street cart hot dog probably has more toxicity risk)
    
47. Chicken tikka masala
    
48. --Eel
    
49. **Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
    
50. --Sea urchin
    
51. Prickly pear
    
52. Umeboshi
    
53. Abalone
    
54. Paneer
    
55. **McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
    
56. **Spätzle
    
57. Dirty gin martini
    
58. Beer above 8% ABV
    
59. **Poutine (I wrote about this when we tried it in Victoria in March; totally edible but unimpressive, to say the least)
    
60. **Carob chips (bleah, this gets a big mark for “things I would never try again”)
    
61. **S’mores
    
62. --Sweetbreads
    
63. Kaoliang
    
64. Currywurst
    
65. Durian (My in-laws love durian. They had some wrapped in a bag on their back porch one time and I was sitting out there. I kept thinking, “Gah! What smells like death?” and was just about to ask them if they’d seen the cat lately when I saw the durian. I don’t care how good it may taste. I won’t eat something that smells that bad.)
    
66. --Frogs’ legs
    
67. **Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake (Can you think of any other reason to go to a county fair?)
    
68. --Haggis
    
69. Fried plantain
    
70. --Chitterlings or andouillette
    
71. Gazpacho
    
72. **Caviar and blini (My reaction to caviar was exactly like Tom Hanks’ in Big)
    
73. Louche absinthe
    
74. Gjetost or brunost
    
75. --Roadkill (I’m not aware of ever eating it, anyway)
    
76. Baijiu
    
77. **Hostess Fruit Pie (loves me the lemon ones, oh yeah!)
    
78. --Snail
    
79. Lapsang souchong
    
80. Bellini
    
81. Tom yum
    
82. **Eggs Benedict
    
83. **Pocky
    
84. Tasting menu at a 3-Michelin-star restaurant
    
85. Kobe beef
    
86. --Hare
    
87. **Goulash
    
88. **Flowers
    
89. --Horse
    
90. Criollo chocolate
    
91. **Spam (not since I was a kid and didn’t know any better, if that counts for anything)
    
92. Soft-shell crab
    
93. Rose harissa
    
94. Catfish
    
95. **Mole poblano
    
96. Bagel and lox (bagel, yes; lox, no)
    
97. Lobster Thermidor
    
98. **Polenta
    
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
    
100. --Snake

I’m probably one of the least food-adventurous people I know. I got 34/100.

Aug. 18: R.I.P. Patty

Patty, a sweet floppy-eared shepherd-mix girl, lived a very happy 14½ years with Ed. She was loved tremendously and will be missed even more.



Hug your critters today, friends.

Aug. 18: The Jordans’ happy day

Happy anniversary to Jim and April. This makes 17 years, right? And people said it wouldn’t last…

(Actually, no one said it wouldn’t last. If they had, I woulda punched ‘em.)

Aug. 18: Alisa's happy day

Happy birthday to my dear friend Alisa! I hope I get to see you again someday, but until then I’ll just look forward to texting you all through new episodes of The Office.

Lovies!

Aug. 18: Better vibes

The funk I wrote about earlier is mostly gone now, mercifully short-lived thanks to Ed’s e-mail this afternoon (and people say the man can’t perform magic...). He sent me a link to Great Olan Mills Photos. This group of portraits has made the rounds of the ‘net a few times, but they are sooooo worth looking at again! And they’ll make you hee-haw like nothing else, so don’t be drinking any liquids while you scroll down the page.

So hard for me to pick a favorite, but I think it’d be either the prom date or B-52s.

And while you’re re-living the past and not drinking liquids, you might as well re-visit the 1977 JCPenney catalog.

Geez, cheer up already.

Aug. 18: Question

Have you ever read a story and become so caught up, so involved in it that it sorta consumes you? And even after you finish reading it, you can’t stop thinking about it? You wonder if you should tell someone else about it or maybe write about it or read something completely unlike it, just to get it out of your head? And you have this very odd feeling that makes you immobile and you want to close all the curtains and sit in the darkness and concentrate on all the negative things in your life? And no matter what you do to try to return to the “now” of your mostly-fine life, there’s a heaviness that simply will not disappear?

Really? Oh.

Me neither.

Aug. 16: Never give him up

Dan sent me this (thank you!!) with a note that said “It’s looking like Obama/Astley ‘08!” My first thought was OH NO, I don’t know who this Astley guy is and I feel so out of it. Then I watched the video. Turns out I do know this Astley guy, and I loooove(d) him. This. Is. Awesome.

Aug. 14: Thursday Thirteen #9

Visit Thursday Thirteen if you want to read some fun lists written by talented and interesting bloggers. Here’s mine for this week.

13 of my favorite non-blog sites

1. Twitter. Oh my goodness, I could pee myself on every visit because I follow some wickedly funny twitterers. You can see who I follow by looking at my profile: www.twitter.com/jmanullang
   
2. Internet Movie Database. IMDB is the absolute best resource for movie info.
   
3. Some E-cards. These are not your standard e-cards. Their slogan is “when you care enough to hit send” and they are addictive.
   
4. Facebook. I signed up because a friend said he’d created a page and I wanted to see it, and since then have been pretty much hooked. I’ve found a lot of old friends and acquaintances, but the best part has been to reconnect with one of my closest friends from the early years of college. Even if I eventually spend less time on Facebook, I know I’ll stay in touch with her for a good, long time. (Lovies, Sherilee!)
   
5. Google Reader. I used to spend so much time chasing my favorite bloggers all over the ‘net. Now they come to me, in a way, by collecting in my reader. I keep this open all day and it updates regularly. If you think there’s a better reader out there, please let me know—I signed up with Google because I use Blogger, but haven’t looked around much to see what else is out there.
   
6. Go Fug Yourself. Snark, anyone? This site pokes fun at celebrities’ odd wardrobe choices and can occasionally raise your self-esteem points a notch or two (no guarantees).
   
7. Café Press. Looking for anything—ANYTHING—with some kind of saying or image on it? You’ll find it here. It’s easy to create your own little store too.
   
8. eBay and Etsy. I’m putting these together because even though they’re very different kinds of sites, I use them both for finding unique items. eBay has everything; Etsy has tons of amazing handcrafted goods. I guess craigslist sorta fits into this category too, at least for the way I use it (though the Best of Craigslist is some pretty great entertainment).
   
9. Amazon. I shop here way too much but it saves me trips to the mall. I really hate going to the mall.
   
10. Bookins. I’m a new-ish member here and so far am fascinated by how easy it is to use. Basically, it’s a site that facilitates trades of used books and DVDs with other members. Whatever you receive costs $4.49. Whatever you send out costs you nothing; you print postage from home on regular paper and simply drop the envelope in a mailbox. If you want to register and “thank” me for alerting you to the site, use this link.
    
11. 6pm. This site has great prices on shoes and runs frequent sales.
    
12. Spot The Difference. Do you miss those search games like the ones we used to do in Highlights magazine? Here you go. The games get harder with each level, but you can do them over and over to increase your gold/silver/bronze levels. Pretty fun.
    
13. The DIS Discussion Forums. If you’re going on a Disney vacation, there’s no site better than this one to prepare yourself.

What are some of your favorite web sites? Please share!

Aug. 13: Cinco-Fone

Hey, did you hear about this awesome new phone called the Cinco-Fone? It’s so awesome it takes three separate videos to see all its awesome features.

Aug. 13: Welcome, Blake!

This announcement is a bit delayed because I wanted to give it the attention it deserved. Good news for the Medici family! Their healthy little boy was born July 14, 2008. Meet Blake Oliver Medici:



Mark and Annalee went through so much to get this little guy. I received his beautiful birth announcement in the mail yesterday (click to read)—if you know their story, it will make you cry:



Want to know more about the Medici family? Visit Olivia’s Wish. We offer our thrilled congratulations to Mark, Annalee, and Eva, and a big welcome to our world, Baby Blake!

Aug. 12: Dedicated to the one I love

I stole this “All About My Husband” meme from Jen at Momma Blogs a Lot.

What is his name? Victor

Who eats more? He does

Who said I love you first? I think it was me

Who is taller? He says I am, I say he is. Safe to say I wore ballet slippers at our wedding.

Who drives most when you are together? Vic does. He’s a safe driver and I don’t freak out when he’s behind the wheel. The only time I wish I was driving is when we’re in a hurry and he stops for every yellow light, won’t pass a jackass that’s driving under the speed limit, etc. But that’s when I not only wish I was driving, I want to shove him out of the car and speed off without him because he’s totally infuriated me.

Who’s more sensitive? I pretend to be but I don’t think I’m any more sensitive than he is

Who does the laundry? He does. He even hangs my clothes that don’t go in the dryer.

Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? He does

Who pays the bills? We’ve gone back and forth on this and can’t find a good solution. Right now we both do, but it’s confusing and I think one of us will take on the whole thing again soon.

Who cooks more? I hate everyday cooking so Vic ends up doing a lot more of that than I do. But when it’s a special occasion, I run the show.

Who is more stubborn? Definitely me

Who is the first to admit they are wrong? I’m the one that needs to more often. But when Victor has to say he’s wrong—or when I get the privilege of pointing out his wrongness—I love to dance around and sing about it for a good hour or two.

Who has more siblings? Two brothers and a sister on his side, one sister on mine

Who wears the pants? Victor does, OF COURSE (you know that’s not true, right? But I shouldn’t totally emasculate the guy...)

What do you like to do together? Our evenings often involve sitting at our laptops in front of the TV. So boring and nerdy. When/if we leave the house, we like trying new restaurants, going to our Broadway in Portland shows, hanging out with friends. We travel very well together and especially enjoy our Disney vacations.

Who eats more sweets? We both love sweets

Guilty pleasures? Animated Disney movies. Food.

How did you meet? Our story is best told here

Who asked whom out first? This is impossible to say; we were friends for such a long time before we started dating. The transition from going out as buddies to going out as girlfriend/boyfriend is indistinguishable.

Who kissed first? It was mutual—on a dare over dinner with a bunch of friends, we stood up and kissed across the table. We have pictures.

Who proposed? He did. Even got on one knee. It was a perfect moment.

His best features and qualities? He’s a safe driver! Sense of humor, for sure. Vic is very gentle and kind—to me, our kids, our pets. He’s polite. People like him—he’s not a jackass. He doesn’t complain often, and I’m quite sure being married to me sometimes makes him want to. His family is fabulous. Yep, I think he’s pretty great.

Tell me all about your spouse in a comment, or steal this meme for your own blog.

Aug. 10: One World One Dream

It was an Olympics weekend at our house. That is to say, we sat on our arses and watched young, athletic people do what we cannot. Here are my thoughts so far about the summer games:

• Vancouver would be wise not to try to top Beijing’s opening ceremonies. Because did you see them?
  
• How do the American athletes not bawl their heads off when they play our anthem? (Or am I the only one?)
  
• Women’s beach volleyball is only an Olympic sport to get more viewers. Not complaining, just stating the obvious.
  
• Here’s one of the few pictures of Dubya that makes me laugh and not cringe.
  
  They said he’s the first sitting U.S. president to attend a beach volleyball competition at the Olympics—shocking that Clinton never fit that event into his busy pants-dropping schedule, eh?
  
• Speaking of good uniforms, the only guys in the entire world who look decent in Speedos? They’re wearing pants or bodysuits. I call shenanigans.
  
• Handball? Trampoline? Badminton? Table tennis? Wuh-huh? When did stupid time-wasters you play in your driveway or front yard become competitive? I didn’t realize there were even real rules to some of these, much less competitive standards. Sorta explains how synchronized swimming still exists as an Olympic sport, I guess.
  
• Sometimes I wish Bob Costas would shut the hell up. Really, Bob. Shut it.

The U.S. is in first place in the Olympics medal count, but China has more golds than we do. Which brings to mind one of my favorite quotes from The Simpsons:

“People, people, please, you are forgetting what the Olympics are all about: giving out medals of beautiful gold, so-so silver, and shameful bronze.”

Aug. 8: Damn commie spies

Everyone comes here to manullang.com to get smarter, right? Well, today’s educational video is Crimes of Carelessness.

Please come to a complete stop before you e-mail me your thank-you.

Aug. 8: Ginormous puppy

Gilly, my mom’s dog, is staying with us right now. We don’t know what breed he is, but think there’s at least a little bit of Great Dane in him. He’s huge. He’s especially huge next to our two dogs (a Beagle and rat terrier). Scout and Casey make enough noise for a dog twice Gilly’s size, but they are small dogs. When they jump on us they do not knock us over. They do not weigh more than we do. They can only get things off the table if they jump onto a chair and then the table, not just stand next to the table and rest their nose on it.

It’s taken some getting used to, having such a big dog around. Making it even worse is that Gilly has no idea how big he is, nor how much our dogs hate him. He’s about a year old and still very puppyish, very curious. Every move Scout and Casey make, he’s standing right over them, checking out whatever they’re doing. Gilly seems to be a smart boy, but he has not yet figured out what Scout and Casey’s snarls and snaps mean. I think he thinks he can make them fall in love with him. He’s so very, very wrong because I know that will never happen. Casey’s been with us three years and still hates Scout as much as ever.

So tensions are a teence high.

Katie and Jack are having a ball, though. They think Gilly’s a big noisy toy. He lets them dress him, goes along with whatever game they want to play, and comes immediately when they call his name. I swear, the dog even smiles. He’s a very sweet boy, full of as much love as energy.

Click the pics for a little bit larger view of Gilly’s adventures at the House of Manullang.