Wednesday, November 9, 2011
I don't like winter or anything that comes along with it (except fabulous scarves and hot chocky milk, of course). Chills. Goosebumps. Shivers. Nothing is worse than being cold, except being hungry. Being cold and hungry would be hellish.
Usually I can mostly avoid this by hibernating for the season. I stay inside as much as possible and focus on warm things, like cuddling. What I didn't know when we moved into pleasantville 2301 was being inside is worse than being outside. It's a mystery, right? I am currently wearing two pairs of leggings, two pairs of socks, jeans, two long sleeve shirts, and a jacket. My nose has been runnin' like Niagra, I can no longer feel my toes, and my lips resemble Kate Winslet's in Titanic when she whispered, "I'll never let go, Jack" right before she, ya know, let go. We have a gas heater, but neither of us can figure out how to turn it on. I thought problems like this would be avoided by marrying a mechanical engineer, but I was wrong. We just gotta learn to snuggle more.
Coconut Chocolate Cheesecake Ice Cream
That's a mouthful, a tasty mouthful. I saw this at Braum's today and may or may not have hugged a confused 15-yr-old cashier due to my excitement. I mean coconut, chocolate, and cheesecake are all things me and my thunder thighs adore... and ice cream? Ooo la la. I think I'll go fatten up as to avoid future shivering. (I realize that doesn't make a whole lot of sense, since ice cream is cold.)
Hence the plaid and pigtails pictured above. I'm obsessed with award shows. I love seeing people, famous people, get dressed up and perform. It's a comfy concert in my living room! Not to mention, I have an intense love for country music that most people don't really understand. I don't think it's really an option when you're a born-and-raised Oklahoman. I used to dream of being a super famous country singer, but Taylor Swift stole the whole blonde, blue-eyed, can't-really-sing-very-well thing from me. It's okay, we're cool.
This award show was entertaining. It was especially fun watching my husband ogle over Carrie Underwood and her perfect legs. "Babe, I'm not staring, I'm just watching the show.... You look just like her anyway!" Flattery (lies) will get you no where, my sweet.
Most of the female performers were dreadful. Don't get me started on Sara Evans, who ruined "Stronger" for me. And I'm sorry, but Carrie? Screaming is not singing. (I know because my mom had to tell me this a lot growing up when I thought I had an awessssomme voice.) And Faith Hill? Been there, done that. Give it up, grandma, you're last century's news. The real treat was Natasha Bedingfield, who I'm pretty sure pulled up all the carpet from her house and wrapped it around her body in a haphazard fashion. Do yourself a favor and google that one.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to work with Grahm on our vocals so we can be the next country power couple. Move over, Miranda and Blake.