Ha!

The funny and fantastic darlings over at Go Fug Yourself have been at it again.

This time, they have created the March Madness of bad celebrity fashion. They have matched up 65 celebrities and there will be a battle to the death on which celebrity celebrates all that is Fug. Right now, the play in game, between sisters Courtney and Ashley Peldon, is playing. The celeb who gets the most votes wins (right now, Courtney is winning by a landslide).

Seriously, people, this is ridiculously awesome. Check it out.

P.S. I finally figured out how to make something into a link. Apparently I was doing it backwards. I'm a moron.

I'm so over sleeping

When I was a little kid, my brother used to tell us that he slept with his eyes open. Oftentimes my parents would indeed find him laying wide awake in bed hours after his bedtime.

My sister often sleeps with one eye hanging open. This phenomenon was spotted our first night in Europe last summer, when she fell asleep, one eye open, on the dinner table. This caused one of the chaperones, a fellow teacher, to point at my sister and remark to the other kids, "Look at that freak show!" Over Christmas, she was sleeping with one eye open on the couch. Her phone rang and I said, "Jennie, your phone is ringing." I was looking her straight in the eye, and what did she do in response? She closed her eye! It was hilarious!

I don't think Stephen, my other brother, has any strange sleeping patters, but I know I used to sleepwalk. In fact, when I was really little, I got downstairs and the front door unlocked before my parents asked me where I was going. I replied that I was going to McDonald's to get a cheeseburger. I have no recollection of this, of course, so they could be making it up.

Why the sleep talk? The pillow talk, if you will?

It's because I can't sleep.

I LOVE to sleep. I just haven't been able to lately.

I was up until 4 a.m. last night. I did homework to try to make myself get tired. I emailed an assignment to a professor at 3:30. Nothing. Because of this, I've been tired all day -- but as soon as I got into bed -- wide awake!

I wonder if my body is adjusting to my favorite sleep schedule --- 3 a.m. to noon.

I was able to pull off this sleep schedule the first semester of my senior year in college. My earliest class started at 2. I loved it! Coincidentally, this was the semester I turned 21 (so that 2 p.m. class time was sometimes necessary after staying up late drinking diet coke and playing video games with my friends!), and the only semester I got a 4.0 in undergrad. I rolled out of bed late and was able to do my writing (for fiction and my columns) after my roommates had gone to bed.

But NOW! Now I need to be productive. I have so much work to do, and I really need to get good sleep to do it.

Oh bubble (as my sister would say). My mind is still awake, but my brain is also goop. It's time to stop writing before I write something REALLY terrible (if I haven't already!). More later, I'm sure.

Clean machine

I officially turned into a freak this weekend.

Hal went to Lexington this weekend to sing at church. He does this during the Lenten/Easter season because he really likes the music his old church (UK's Newman Center) puts together. They do a wonderful job, and they are good friends, so it's nice that he's still involved there!

However, this weekend I had to stay here and work. I am trying to get a study together to submit to the AEJMC conference. The deadline is April 1. So I have been reading and coding news stories like nobody's business this weekend. (Hal is also coding, although he hasn't gotten as much done as he would like. Or perhaps he's gotten exactly as much done as he would like, hmmm.)

So last night I decided to go to bed around 1. I had spent the day doing work and watching some TV (Coyote Ugly!).

I walked into the bedroom and promptly lost my mind.

I decided to clean.

Those of you who know me (or spent time in my classroom!) know I'm not the tidiest person there is. I'm a total packrat, which is compounded by the townhouse we live in (and just signed another lease for). Hal is a lot cleaner, but his busy work schedule has allowed the house to fall a bit by the wayside.

2:30 a.m. found me sorting laundry and muttering "I'm so tired of living in filth." Layla looked on very confused. All she knew was that Hal was gone and so she could sleep in the bed -- and it was very late, so her bed time was being cut.

I found receipts from Oct., fuzz from a dog bed Layla destroyed, several batteries, some sleeves for rolling change, fuzz from a dog bed Layla destroyed, bobbie pins, photo negatives from my 2000 trip to Europe, and fuzz from a dog bed Layla destroyed.

Did I mention I found lots of fuzz from a dog bed Layla destroyed? Lots. of. fuzz.

But now, my dresser looks rather fabulous.

(Oh, you thought I cleaned more? My dresser was really messy. Of course I did more! The fuzz was all over the house, and actually not on the dresser.)

I also hung up some pictures and did all the laundry. I worked on dishes and then cut my thumb on the picture frame, so I couldn't do dishes anymore. I put all the mail in a pile for Hal to go through, and I deconstructed the card table and chairs that has been up since our Super Bowl party (yikes -- we were (too lazy to put it away) using it to construct the collages for our walls. It was also a good homework table).

It turned out well, but now I have to fold the clothes I laundered, so I should be finished with that around, oh, 2009.

One Day I'll Learn

One day I will learn that my body is not meant to run.

When I was in high school there were several girls that I would watch in amazement as they ran. Playing soccer, an older girl looked simply like a gazelle -- she had incredibly long legs and just floated down the soccer field in a blink of an eye.

I watched my friend Laurie run 20 miles an hour on a treadmill. She looked like she was jogging. She asked to try 21, but our acceleration trainers wouldn't let her. As for me, I almost wiped out at 16 --- my feet went right out from under me because I couldn't keep up.

I tried once to do an overlapping run during a soccer game as Sara, the girl playing the position in front of me, went down the field with the ball. It sounded like a good idea. I remember calling to her, "I'm coming, Sara!" as I kept running, and running, and she just kept getting farther away.

I like to say that I lost all semblance of speed when I was finally diagnosed with the tendinitis my sophomore year, but I really don't think I was ever what someone would consider fast. Short legs, "womanly" body, hips that indicate I'm built to breed, not run.

So why do I keep trying to run? I tried last summer. And I've been working on it again now that the weather is getting nicer (we're not holding our breath that it will STAY nicer, I feel that another blizzard is probably just around the corner).

My newest affliction is very exciting because I have not experienced anything like it before. Yeah, I'm used to the knee pain, the ankles rolling, the burning arches.

But my hips --- yes, those aforementioned breeding hips -- have never hurt me.

Until now.

I've run twice the past two weeks. Each time I can't run on the subsequent day because my left hip flexor hurts so bad that I hobble around like a hunched over old woman. It's very attractive, I assure you.

The first time I thought perhaps I'm just out of shape. Perhaps I'm compensating on my left side for a lingering pain in my right ankle (I fell in a hole walking to the mailbox --- I'm a moron). Perhaps I shouldn't run with the dog, because I hold her leash with my left arm.

But, really, isn't it silly I can't run for 20 minutes without being laid up for a week?

Long live SWIM TO SUMMER, an IU program that will be starting up here. I will sign up to do some number of water-related exercise, and if I complete my goal, I will get a T-SHIRT! I will do almost anything for a t-shirt, so I know this is the program for me! I will keep everyone posted with the trials and tribulations of my Quest for the T-shirt. The program is supposed to start March 23, so we will see. (And, don't worry, DWE will count for some of my exercise time!)

I hope that this works -- especially since I will be posting a little about it on this blog (not ONLY about it, of course. I am not a fitness maven. I have to write about other things!). And, when it is finished, I will show off my T-SHIRT!

I bet you can't wait.

Addicted

A teacher friend of mine, Eric Brass, has started a truly addicting addition to the SHDHS web site. Every day, Eric is posting a Day in the Life picture. He takes pictures around SHDHS and then picks one and write a little bit about it. It's totally awesome! (Perhaps I just love it because I miss seeing the kids and my friends from there every day!)

Anyway, in case you're interested, here's the link:
http://www.shdhs.org/student_life/aditl.php

Showered with snow, not presents.

Our Louisville trip did not turn out quite as planned.

Hal and I ventured to Louisville on Friday so I could help host a bridal shower for my friend Anne. Hal went along so he could spend time with Kevin, the husband of Amanda, who offered her home for the shower.

On Friday night, Hal, Kevin, Amanda, Anne, Josh (Anne's fiance) and I went out for pizza. We spent some time in the pizza place.

Enough time for the snow to really fall.

More than 6 inches of snow.

The snow continued through the night and into the next morning. So much so that we decided to postpone the shower for a time where it would be safer for people to attend. In fact, the other host, Megan, was stuck in Cincinnati with more snow -- she couldn't make it down at all, and she had the favors and Anne's gift from the three of us. Our shower theme was a wine tasting because Anne and Josh are going to Napa Valley for their honeymoon. However, we didn't think it would be good for people to drink wine and then drive in all the snow. Not to mention, Megan also had the wine! :)

So I called the guests, we picked a new date, and we will hope that there is no blizzard on April 19.

Chelsea

I am not a political person.

That might be strange coming from a journalism person. But it doesn't matter. I have never really been all that caught up in politics.

However, every time I look at Hilary Clinton, I have a thought.

Dear God, what does Chelsea think about all this?

Poor Chelsea. Can you imagine going through all of that AGAIN? BOTH of your parents being the president? Are we going to talk about how "awkward" she is again? How she doesn't look like the "ideal" or "cute" First Kid?

And it wasn't like the first time was EASY. There was too much talk a parent's sex life for any kid.

Chelsea looks calm and composed when I see pictures of her. She's even capable of smiling.

But I can't help thinking that somewhere in her head, behind that smiling face, she's thinking "please, no. Not again. Please don't do this to me again."

I can understand if Chelsea goes into hiding. Changes her name. Becomes a scientologist (okay, maybe I CAN'T understand that one!). It can't be easy. At least she's older this time. She is, in fact, 28!

Hopefully, she will take less heat if she is put into the First Kid position again.

burn, baby, burn

I set a bulb of garlic on fire tonight.

Because Hal has been working a little later during this busy season, I have been making dinner some nights.

Cooking is bad for me. Oftentimes Rachel Ray's 30 minute meals take me more than an hour. When I cook, I usually feel as though I am running a marathon -- and I cannot cook without a recipe!

Tonight we realized that we had an eggplant that needed to be cooked, so I set about making a roasted eggplant pasta dish. This dish included, among other things, an entire bulb of roasted garlic. This is just the kind of dish we like!

Now, I have a terracotta garlic roaster. We got this awhile ago. I have a long-time love for roasted garlic, one that first began at Andriolla's restaurant -- a now-closed FABULOUS Italian place in Erlanger. The restaurant had a antipasta that came with many cloves of roasted garlic to spread on bread (or just eat whole, which I often did).

So I dug our garlic roaster out of the cabinet (thankfully, it wasn't in the closet like most of our kitchen stuff). Unfortunately, I have no idea where all of our directions are. We have them somewhere, but I didn't feel like looking for it.

I prepared the garlic like I was supposed to and put the thing in the microwave. Now, you CAN put these things in the microwave. I remembered that to cook them in the over, it took about an hour, but in the microwave, like everything in the microwave, takes a lot less time.

I set it for 10 minutes. Then I checked it at 3 minutes. It wasn't finished. So I left it in the microwave and sat in the dining room.

At the 7 minute mark, I smelled a bad smell and noticed smoke. I opened the back door quickly (we have a very sensitive smoke alarm) and approached the microwave.

Burning garlic stinks. I didn't see flames, exactly, but the garlic bulb was very burnt and stinky. The whole roasting pan was giving off dark colored smoke.

Thank goodness I caught it or I would have had to use the fire extinguisher!