Jan. 31: Month in review

January 2014 is almost over. I’m kinda glad.

I’m also glad that today is Friday, because we all need a little Ponch now and then, right?

You’re welcome, Fancy Lori™. I know you like the Ponch pic. ;)

Special days I celebrated this month and how:

• New Year’s Day was celebrated in high style here at the House of Manullang. Three of the four of us were sick and napped throughout the entire day. Wheeeee. We’re the funnest.
• Jenn K’s birthday! We went to a wine bar, where I tasted a wine I actually like. I took a picture of the label so I can look for it in stores—so far, no luck. Figures. Time to place a special order, and I don’t even know how or where to do that because I’m so wine-stupid. After the wine bar we checked out a new local place, Valley Growlers. Big thumbs up for their fab selections! I think Jenn K had a good birthday, but none of us really remembers for sure, including her.
• I went to a baby shower for Erin, my niece. So fun to celebrate a new baby, even though he made me a great-aunt and that makes me old. More on Baby below.
• There was a celebration in our family when the Seahawks won the NFC championship, and there will be more celebration this weekend when they compete in the Super Bowl. As I am neither a Seahawks fan nor a Seahawks hater, I was not a celebrator nor a throw-things-at-the-wall-er (Loveliest Lori, I’m looking at you…). It sure is nice to have such happy boys in the house though. I also like seeing happy Seahawks-adjacent Facebook posts from happy Kim F’n, happy Melodie, happy Jordan family, happy every Manullang/Nienhuis, and happy neighbors. Happy is good.

I saw things with my eyes:

• Downton Abbey and Sherlock have started up again on PBS, and that makes for some happy Sunday nights here. The If-Downton-Abbey-Took-Place-Entirely-On-Facebook summaries that appear the next day at this site are priceless.
• I watched, for the first time, Mommie Dearest. Wow, I say, both for Joan Crawford’s awfulness and Faye Dunaway’s ridiculous over-acting. Still, it was oddly entertaining. One of the best things about Amazon Instant Video is having access to lots of movies (mostly trash) that I’ve never gotten around to watching.
• Last year I watched (and kinda loved) the documentary Grey Gardens, and this month I finally saw the Jessica Lange-Drew Barrymore movie version of it. Both were fascinating in that train-wreck/I-can’t-look-away way.
• Who needs to wait for the DVD release of Frozen, like a sucka? It’s online! Bootleg video, anyone?
• Armistead Maupin’s final tale from his Tales of the City series was published last week, and he was at Powell’s the other night for a reading and signing. He was as entertaining as always—I love that man. I’m thinking about re-reading the first eight books before I start the new one, just to experience the whole series in one great big delicious bite.
• I read Amy Tan’s latest novel, The Valley of Amazement. It contained a bit more detail about life as a courtesan than I really needed to know, but was beautifully written, as her books always are.
• I’m not entirely sold on e-books; I like holding actual books in my hands, turning pages, the eyestrain, all that. However, if a book is interesting enough, I’ll attempt to read it on my iPad. I just finished When You were Older, by Catherine Ryan Hyde. The story is set in the months following 9/11; I thought the author did a good job capturing the emotions of that tense time. (Someday I hope NOT to associate certain books with whether or not I read them on my Kindle app, but this was the second I’ve read start-to-finish.)

This month’s good and bad:

• NEW BABY NEW BABY NEW BABY NEW BABY!!! Erin & Kevin’s son was born four weeks early, but he’s doing well. I met him when he was two days old, and OMG, I forgot how lovely it is to hold someone else’s newborn! What a little sweetheart. Picture proof:

Baby Max (with Erin’s piggies in the background)

I love this pic of a very tired Erin and her sweet boy
(Totally stole it off their blog, but with permission)

• Debi visited! We need to see each other more than once a year. Boo.
• I opened an Etsy store and am going to sell my gemstone jewelry creations. I’ve been beading like a madwoman—it’s a very fun creative outlet. I’ll post the store info here when it’s all ready for shopping and sharing with your friends. I feel like I’ve been asking a lot of favors lately, so I apologize in advance for yet another.
• There aren’t enough creative new ways to use four-letter words that convey our frustration with the results of my PET scan. The cancer is back. I have a biopsy next week, and will meet with the oncologist soon after to decide on our next course of action. I’ll do my best NOT to turn Stuff Jen Says back into an all-cancer-all-the-time blog, but will also try to share news as it happens.
• And while I’m on the topic, I’d like some credit for not using more of those four-letter words on my blog. They sure come out of my mouth more than they end up here. Somebody praise me for my restraint RIGHT NOW.

I likes to share the silly stuff:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Time to enjoy some February. You should do it too. Laterz.

Oct. 15: Same old, same old. Also, I’m old.

I’ve been totally, completely swamped with PTO beez-ness lately. Our Jogathon is Monday and if my kid didn’t ask you to pledge him, it’s because I wouldn’t let him. We all have our own kids doing their own fundraising, right? If you’re feeling generous, though, it’s not too late. The top fundraiser in the school gets the field named after them for an entire year. I think that might just be the coolest prize we’ve ever offered. Suck it, Autzen Stadium. You done been overshadowed by a little elementary school in ClackamASS.

(I kinda love that my boy thinks he has a chance at having a sign hanging on the school fence welcoming his classmates to Jack Manullang Field. Delusions.)

One of the tasks I assigned myself for Jogathon was creating a playlist to blast across the field all day. This was a much harder task than I first thought; as I went through my iTunes library, I discovered that I listen to a LOT of really inappropriate music. I guess my mom was right way back when. Hm.

Here’s something I just found out, though, that’s going to make sound super-old. The song “Pumped Up Kicks,” by Foster the People is horrible. Know why? Here are the lyrics:

Robert’s got a quick hand.
He’ll look around the room, he won’t tell you his plan.
He’s got a rolled cigarette, hanging out his mouth he’s a cowboy kid.
Yeah he found a six shooter gun.
In his dads closet hidden in a box of fun things, and I don’t even know what.
But he’s coming for you, yeah he’s coming for you.

[Chorus]
“All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You better run, better run, outrun my gun…”
“All the other kids with the pumped up kicks,
You better run, better run, faster than my bullet.”
“All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You better run, better run, outrun my gun…”
“All the other kids with the pumped up kicks,
You better run, better run, faster than my bullet.”

[Verse Two]
Daddy works a long day.
He be coming home late, yeah he’s coming home late.
And he’s bringing me a surprise.
‘Cause dinner’s in the kitchen and it’s packed in ice.
I’ve waited for a long time.
Yeah the sleight of hand is now a quick pull trigger,
I reason with my cigarette,
And say your hair’s on fire, you must have lost your wits, yeah.

[Chorus]

WTF? This is a totally catchy song that’s getting a lot of radio play, and most of us didn’t even realize what it was about until someone pointed it out. I’m a little bit horrified. My iTunes library has vulgarity and George Michael, but that’s about the worst thing you’ll find there.

I’m afraid if I go on anymore about this, you’ll start sending me nursing home brochures like they did to that guy in Up. I shall cease.

Sep. 23: Jen’s birthday came and went

My birthday was last weekend and my friends and family showered me with delightful gifts. It almost made it fun to turn 43 years old. OK, nothing’s fun about being 43. But as my friend Carla says, “Every birthday spent outside the urn or on top of the grass is a GOOD birthday.” She is a wise woman.

Still, the night before my birthday I pulled a muscle in my back while plucking grey hairs from my head. A reminder of my age could not have been better-timed, and I spent much of my birthday hobbling around like an 80-year-old. Pffft.

One of the most amusing things this year was that almost every card I received had some reference to drunkenness. Is that really what people think of when they think of me? Don’t answer that question. Here’s one of the hilarious cards—this one’s from the Jordans:

 

Funny, right? Sweet Emma, April’s 10-year-old, added this:

(Heh heh heh. Best they learn early, right?)

On the same card, April’s 8-year-old declared his very poor taste in Broadway musicals:

 

Here’s a sampling of the other fabulous things I received on Sunday…

 

Most oversized edible gift:

Yup, it’s a ginormous gummy bear.
Someone suggested I post pictures of the bear as I eat it—missing an ear, missing a leg, etc. 
Good idea, right? 
I think it’s super-funny that people think it will take me more than one day to eat it.

 

Most practical item to use when working

with all those kids at school:

Fancy Anthony™ said, “If you’re using it at school, you should just cross out the ‘maybe’.”

 

The gift I am totally taking to Jack’s

next early-morning football game:

 

 

Most semi-automatic gift my kids

have already stolen from me:

Sunday at 7pm: Manullang Family Nerf Gun Fight.
Be there.
SO I CAN KICK YOUR ASS.

 

Best excuse to get my frozen treats

and coffee on the outside:

Seriously, aren’t these the best gift cards a person could ever receive? 
In my world, they are.

 

Most inedible gift that I am totally gonna

try to eat anyway because

OMG it smells like deliciousness:

Seriously, these candles should be approved by the FDA.
Someone get me a spoon, stat.

 

 

The thing I’ve been asking for since I was 6

and still have not received, dammit:

All things considered, it was a good birthday. I felt loved and happy, and there’s not much better than that. Thank you for knowing me so well, and for your generosity, goodness, stolen music, floor deck food, friendship, and everything else that makes me smile on non-birthday days too.

Jul. 26: Where’s my AARP card?

You know what’s awesome about the Internet? It has everything. EVERYTHING. I can’t even begin to post links to all the cool stuff I find. Girl, you know it’s true.

But—sad face!—today a site that I love called me an old lady. This is worse than the gas station attendants calling me “ma’am” or my kids yelling downstairs to Vic, “She’s asleep in front of the TV again!” That’s right, The Oatmeal, one of the best things about the ‘net, suggested that 43-year-old women are “old ladies.” Technically, I won’t be 43 years old for… um… (quick consult at timeanddate.com because my brain is too decrepit to do math on the fly)… 54 more days.

I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter that I’m not one of the Farmville-playing old ladies; Pinterest is probably just as make-fun-of-able.

Young whipper snapper Internet comedians…

<Sob!>

May 22: What?

I have no trouble remembering exactly how much Monopoly money to distribute as banker, even though I haven’t played the game in a hundred years. But ask me where I parked my car this morning and it’ll take me a while to remember.

Our phone number when I was seven years old? Piece. Of. Cake. But the last three times I went to Target I meant to get bathroom cleaner and every time I left with a cart full of stuff and no bathroom cleaner.

I need to remember new things, but the unimportant stuff that’s been tucked away for no reason whatsoever won’t leave. There’s just not room for anything else; my brain is full. This is all kinds of wrong.

I can recite every word of almost any Seinfeld episode, but if I’m not thinking I’ll tell the beagle what a sweet kitty she is.

Jul. 31: Happy birthday, Kath!

It’s too hot to think up a super-duper clever way to wish my sister a happy birthday. I know, you all think this makes me just about the worst sister ever. Sorry. Here is my very sincere and un-clever birthday wish for Kathy:

I hope you live long enough to light a disgusting little death stick cigarette with the candles on your 100th birthday cake. That’d be an awesome thing to see. Just don’t follow it with a coughing fit all over the cake because that would gross me out and I totally want a piece of that cake. In fact, if you could put some fade cream on those age spots I’d be able to look at you without gagging and that would help too. And is it too much to ask you to try a little Botox? ‘Cuz, um, dooooood! Sheesh.

Happy Birthday, Kathy! I hope it’s one of your most memorable ones ever!

I love you best of all, seester of mine, no matter what your BFF Lori says. Girl, you know it’s true.

Feel free to share your birthday message for Kathy in a comment. And please don’t make it cleverer than mine, because that’ll just make me look worse. Thanks.

May 3: Dreams be dreams

Last night I had a dream in which I couldn’t remember the name of my nephew’s band. I had just met a record agent and wanted to tell him all about this fine group of young men, but all I could remember was that their band name started with a B.

(Their band name does not start with a B. It doesn’t even have a B in it.)

My sister showed up so I asked her what their name was, and after merciless teasing about my poor memory, she started telling me all these weird names that I knew weren’t real, like “Blackhawk Down” and “Big Mac” and “Bon Jovi,” and was basically no help at all. Stephen (the nephew in the band) called just then, so I asked if I could talk to him.

Kathy said, “Hold on, Auntie Menopause wants to ask you something.”

I replied, “Thanks, Hormone Replacement Therapy,” and took the phone from her.

(Because, y’know, Kathy and I are sweet to each other in dreams just like we are in real life.)

Stephen made me try to guess their name, so I gave him all the fake ones his mom had told me and then threw in a few of my own. Apparently his band mates were listening in on Auntie Menopause and decided they were going to change their band name right then and there because who could resist “Botched Hormone Replacement Therapy”?

See? I knew it started with a B.

(“The Rouge (or BHRT, if you prefer) has posted a new song on their web site. I think Tangerine’s still my favorite, but Six Shooter is awesome too,” said the totally unbiased Auntie Pre-Pre-Pre-Menopause. “Also, that is some fiiiine drummering.”)

Apr. 15: MMM on WA

This is stolen from Jen E and I’m totally doing it wrong because it’s supposed to be a Monday Morning Meme but I was so hung over Monday morning, I couldn’t blog. 

1. How long have you been blogging? Who is your target audience? How often, if at all, do you think about quitting or taking an extended break? What do you do when you start feeling burned out with blogging?
   * I started a web site in 1999, so that puts me at ten years of writing this nonsense. There were years when I was more bloggy than others, but in 2006 I started writing more frequently. My number of posts each year since then has increased greatly, but as I always say, it’s quality, not quantity and I know I write some of the least interesting stuff on the web. Meh.
   * My target audience is friends and family.
   * The only time I’ve taken an extended break is when I’ve been overwhelmed with something else. I don’t expect I’ll ever quit. I’ve been a journal-er since high school and my blog has replaced that.
   * When I’m burned out I just don’t blog.
2. What’s on your mind now?
   I just got home from a PTO board meeting, so I’m thinking about my responsibilities for next school year and hoping I haven’t over-committed.
3. If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the body or the mind of a 30-year old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want? Explain your answer, please.
   My 30-year-old body wasn’t all that fit (I was pregnant) so I’d rather have my 30-year-old mind.
4. What would constitute a “perfect” evening for you?
   There are two kinds of evenings I like best—the quiet, kid-free nights home with Victor, and the happy family nights when we’re all together and getting along. Either one equals “perfect” to me.

Alright, I wasn’t actually hung over on Monday morning, but I was at my mom’s and had slept NOT AT ALL well and was too grouchy to blog. Trust me, you wouldn’t have wanted to read what would have come out my fingers that morning.