The Golden Years

Six Months Ago Today (Wedding Part Two)

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 22:21:00 +0000

We were married on Monday, August 15, 2011

In Gulf Shores, Alabama

Why Alabama? Because the beaches are gorgeous, and it's one of my favorite places in the entire world.

We arrived at the reception,

And shoved some cake in each other's faces.

Our guests each got a page in a scrapbook where they could write us a little note on one side and put a picture of themselves on the other.

My sweet friend Randi, and my MOH made sure this ran smoothly for me!

Then the speeches started.

Dad's was the usual father-of-the-bride speech, sweet and so excited to welcome Matt into the family.

Because for the first time Dad is no longer out numbered by women.

Then it all pretty much went down hill from there.

And by that I mean I have never laughed so hard in my entire life.

Brad's started off with "You know, I didn't really like Matt when I first met him."

And I'm pretty sure he took credit for orchestrating our entire relationship/marriage.

If it weren't for him, none of this would have happened, apparently haha

Colten rewrote the "Wolfpack" speech that Zach Galifianakis's character gives at the beginning of the Hangover, to fit our wedding.
It was absolutely hilarious.

Tara made me cry.

She could have stood up and sang the Alphabet, and I still would have cried.

But she said something along the lines of, "I don't consider you my sister, you ARE my sister."

Right?

You're crying.

And then there was Tyler...

Who I made promise me years ago that he would speak at my wedding.

He has this character that he whips out when the mood strikes him.

We call him Cousin Tyler.

He often calls and leaves 10 minute long voicemails on Birthdays and other holidays

He lays on the Alabama accent reeeeaalllllll thick, and likes to reference his cow Bessy, whenever possible.

So guess who spoke at the wedding....

Cousin Tyler.

The speech started with "It's hotter than two rats screwin' in a wool sock out there!"

Then he brought out some "Natty Light for Matty Light" to welcome him into the family.

This was his prep work for the speech

So ridiculously funny.

And then Matt's Dad got up and closed it with a few words.

The best part was, besides our dads there were no other family members up there speaking.

Just best friends.

And yet every single one of them welcomed either Matt or I to the family.

Sometimes, that means even more.

We ate

We danced

And then we partied.

While arguing about which way the "Cs" went in the YMCA

And line danced

Because we're in the South.

Threw some garters (watch Tyler closely)

Threw some flowers (watch my friend Rachel on the far right)

Sang and danced some more,

Said our goodbyes,

And lived Happily Ever After.

I seriously don't know how I made it though a single day before I met this guy.

He is just the best.

The sweetest

The funniest

The kindest

The calm to my insanity

The reason to my irrationality

He genuinely makes me a nicer, better person.

And I really like looking at his face

Someone once asked him if he cried at our wedding, he said,

"I couldn't, I was so happy and so excited I couldn't stop smiling the entire day."

This guy.

I love him.

That weekend was without a doubt the best time I have ever had.
It's not often you have an excuse to have everyone you love around you all at once, for an entire weekend, at the beach.

Part One

Six Months Ago Today (Wedding Part One)

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 22:21:00 +0000

I snuck out of my parent's condo on the morning of my wedding

to meet my fiance on the beach, one last time.

From the moment we knew we were getting married on the beach, we planned on doing this.

Wedding days are hectic...people will freak out...people will get on your nerves.

We wanted to do something to make sure we didn't get caught up in this.

We headed down to the beach, climbed on top of some stacked up beach chairs and watched the sunrise together on the morning of our wedding.

We talked about how excited we were, how happy we were, and how we had to remember this was our day. No matter the stress, no matter what anyone else did. This was our day.

We weren't worried about "bad luck."

Luck isn't what holds a marriage together.

I kissed my fiance for the last time, and snuck back into my parents' condo.

None the wiser :)

And now, after the wedding is all said and done, this is still one of my favorite parts of the entire day.

A little while later I heard Mom get up, so I went into their room and jumped right in beside Dad, like I've been doing my entire life.

I think the three of us laid there for an hour, talking, joking and laughing.

Until we figured we should get up...because there was that little thing we had to do that day.

My best friend Tara (and maid of honor), my gay-maid Chelsey (self proclaimed) and I all stayed in my parents' condo the night before.

It's always best to have a sleep over with your best friend the night before your wedding.

She and I shared the pull out couch in the living room.

(She was also the only one who knew I was sneaking out, and had a cover story planned in case anyone realized I was gone. THE.BEST.)

The morning of, the three of us refused to move, or get out of bed.

So we cuddled.

And spent the morning watching Despicable Me

All the time, still refusing to get out of bed.

Finally it was time to pay attention to the fact that I was getting MARRIED that day and we all started getting ready.

Flowers arrived,

Hairdressers arrived and did their thing,

And I did everyone's make-up.

Matt and I wrote each other letters to read before the wedding, along with our wedding presents.
Turns out, we surprised each other with the exact same thing.

My parents gave each other watches for their wedding too, and they've been married 28 years.
See, we'll take our luck from that instead.

Our wedding was pretty untraditional, as you will see, but I did stick with some.

Something Old: Mom's 28 year old veil.

Something New, a necklace and a bracelet from my mom.

Something Borrowed, the ring I gave Tara on her 16th birthday given back to me to wear on my wedding day.

Another friend who couldn't make it to be in the wedding, sent me her bracelete for me to wear instead.

Something Blue, a Texas Rangers garter

And a sixpence for my shoe, given to me at our rehearsal by family friends, who might as well just be family.

Meanwhile, the boys took zero time to get ready
and did this instead

Also, the entire wedding party wore Toms

Everyone in pants wore grey ones.
The girls in dresses wore white ones.
And I wore white sparkly ones.

Then we headed for the beach.

We lined up on the boardwalk behind some dunes, and waited for our turn,
While Tara panicked because she suddenly thought she was going to forget everything she had to do while we were standing up at the altar.

Tara: "So, I fix your dress once you're standing up there, right?"
But what do I do with my flowers?
Do I take your flowers?
DO I HOLD ALL OF THE FLOWERS?!
But then how do I fix your dress!?!? I'll be holding all of the flowers?!!"

Dad: "Just hand all the flowers to Tyler."

Tara: "BUT HE'S A BOY!!!"

Panic

Once Tara started breathing again, it was time to get this show on the road

And then he pronounced us Husband and Wife :)

Our Wedding Party

The Men

Matt had two best men, Colten and Brad.
Colten is his life long best friend.
Brad is his best friend from College
Adam was his College roommate for two years
Garet was another one of his best friends from College

And at one time or another they were all his teammates in baseball.
So for their groomsmen gifts he ordered them all personalized baseball bats with their names and date of the wedding.
What a creative guy I've snagged.

My Side

My two bridesmaids, my boy-maid, and my gay-maid.
Those were the titles Chelsey gave herself and Tyler.

Tara, was the very first friend I made when I moved to Texas.
She's been my best friend for 10 years, and was graciously willing to share the title of "my other half" with Matt when we got married.
Not give it up, mind you.
Share.

When I asked Chelsey to be in my wedding, she froze and stopped breathing.
So I immediately added, "I promise I won't make you wear a dress!"
I think she said something like, "Oh thank God! Of course I'll be in the wedding!"
This girl moved mountains and traveled thousands of miles to be at our wedding.
She was the only Canadian that was able to make the trip.
And we adore her for it.

Tara and I met my boy-maid, Tyler, 9 years ago, on that very same beach.
Once I decided not to worry about having a traditional bridal party, it was a no brainer to ask him to stand up with me.
He is very easily the brother I never had.
And I think we manage to talk at least once every single day.

Cali is one of those girls that never stops smiling, and you can always count on her to say just the right thing to make every single person in the room laugh.
Like the morning of the wedding,
"So, are y'all going to write your own vowels??"
You can't help but love this beautiful girl.

Hands down this is the greatest group of people I have ever met.

And they do things like this, on command:

Part Two

This is me, pretending I care about Valentine's Day.

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 21:04:00 +0000

We take this holiday very seriously in this household.

I'll let our morning conversations convince you of this:

M: Happy Valentine's Day honey! Hey, we've made it longer than the Kardashians!

(He was really proud of that reference, being as in the know as he is.)

Or this:

M: You're not going shopping in that are you?

S: (Examining my outfit) Meh, I've gone out in worse.

M: True.

We'll come back to this....

More importantly it was Mister's 24th Birthday on Friday!

I tried to convince him his birthday wouldn't count unless he had these:

He wasn't buying it.

So he opted for the heart healthy platter-o-cheesecake instead.

He said all he wanted for his birthday was a new place to live, so we signed a lease on a new apartment!

The countdown is on.

34 days, 8 hours and 15 minutes until we're out of this craphole!

I then proceeded to fall sound asleep in the middle of a movie.

Reminding Matt why taking me to public places is his favorite.

Then there was sushi

Giant Metal Roosters

A birthday card from my mother containing $51.07.

Because she likes to grab random sums of money from her purse and send them to us.

Old age does her well.

And I pretty much cut myself off from the world because I couldn't stop watching Downton Abbey.

You NEED to watch this show if you haven't.

Right now.

Saturday night we went out with Ali and her hubby to a country bar to see a band play.

No one paid attention to the band, we just sat around and screamed at each other over the music all night.

And I drank more than half of a beer....which is never a good idea.

Lightweight is not even the right word for me.

Matt and I woke up the next morning to our empty bag of Jack in the Box tacos....

and an open jar of Nutella?

Neither of us knows how or why the Nutella got involved in that situation...

Now it's Valentine's Day....and I can't actually say that I care at all.

And I have a built in, permanent Valentine, so that gives my opinion weight right?

This is the extent of our holiday festivities:

Chocolate covered....everything.

Which isn't really anything special...because this happens a lot in this house.

Duke found his sweetheart pretty early on in the day

And could care less about the rest of us.

I thought I'd try cooking some fancy food for dinner.

Because Valentine's Day feels like a good day for food poisoning.

And Matt has to smile and pretend like he loves it, even if it tastes like Athlete's foot.

Because it's Valentine's Day.

It's the thought that counts, sucka!

I clearly inherited my romantic streak from my father.

Who thinks coin sorters are appropriate gifts to give your wife.

We'll be lovey-dovey tomorrow.

On a date that actually matters :)

And if you're feeling sad and lonely today... don't.

Apparently, today is one of the busiest days of the year for private investigators.

Prime day to catch those cheeky buggers.

See, having a Valentine isn't always the better deal.

So there's that to be thankful for?

Happy Valentine's Day Lovers.

Chicken Fingers and Roasted Broccoli

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 22:03:00 +0000

You know dinner is going well when Matt walks in the door, looks at Duke and says,

"What's Mama burning, bud?"

FOR THE RECORD...it was just toast.

And I needed it to be extra crispy on purpose.

Anyway....while Duke was eating his weight in Beggin' Strips for being my hero,

we had some delicious low-cal chicken fingers and roasted broccoli.

Let me just tell you about this broccoli.....

it is SO GOOD!

If you have never roasted broccoli before....you need to try this.

Even if you're not a huge fan of broccoli...give this a try...you just might like it.

It's so good that my Mother-in-law asked ME for the recipe.

These are the moments new wives live for.

And my Father-in-law declared it was good enough to have as snack food.

It's so good that Matt and I eat an entire head EACH, when we cook it.

SO GOOD, and so flippin' good for you too!

All you need is this:

(As always the recipes are all cleaned up and at the bottom of the post)

And broccoli

We have to use the pre-chopped garlic in a jar because we don't have time to chop enough fresh cloves to keep up with our demands.

One serving is 1/2 of a teaspoon, which equates to about one clove.

...we use two heaping tablespoons when we make this.

Yep, so we use roughly 12 cloves of garlic.

My sweet husband asked me to kindly stop breathing out of my mouth after we had this one night.

Not first date recommended.

(Clearly you don't have to use as much as we do. We just have ongoing issues with garlic.)

Also, do yourself a favor and use foil when you roast the broccoli....

We learned this the very hard and time consuming way.

Now for the reason I was accused of burning the apartment down.

(Yeah, so the fire alarm started going off, whatever)

Toast/Burn/Do whatever you want to the bread to make it crispy

Rip up the toast, throw it in a blender or food processor and make yourself some bread crumbs

Mix up your spices, and sprinkle them over your chicken (we use chicken breast tenders)

Dip the chicken in egg whites and then into the bread crumbs

Put everything on cooking sheets and you'll be ready to eat in 20 mins.

Broccoli - 20 mins on 425F

Chicken - 10 mins at 425F

Here's the best part...your dinner is 386 calories per serving.

Enjoy!

But please keep your mouth shut.

And do your best to make it through the cooking process without your significant other saying,

"Well, at least you're pretty"

Because I couldn't....

Crispy Chicken Fingers

Ingredients:

2 cups multigrain or whole wheat bread, cubed (~4 slices of bread)

1 lb boneless skinless chicken breasts

1/2 tsp Cajun seasoning

1/2 tsp Oregano

2 egg whites

Salt and pepper

Here's what you do:

-Toast your slices of bread

-Using a food processor (magic bullets also work great for this) grind the toasted bread into crumbs. This should yield about 1 cup of crumbs.

-Preheat oven to 425 degrees F

-Sprinkle chicken breasts with seasoning, salt and pepper.

-Place egg whites and bread crumbs into two separate bowls.

-Dip the chicken breasts into the egg whites and then roll and coat in the bread crumbs.

-Place breaded chicken on baking pan and cook for 10 mins.

Serves: 4

Nutritional information for 1 serving (4oz of chicken): Calories:168, Fat:2g, Cholesterol:65mg, Sodium:183mg, Carbs:11g, Fiber:2g, Sugar:2g, Protein:32g

Roasted Broccoli

Ingredients:

2 heads of broccoli, chopped into florets

2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

Salt to taste

Chopped garlic

Here's what you do:

-Preheat oven to 425 degrees F. Place chopped florets into a mixing bowl.

-Add the olive oil and chopped garlic (we generally use 2 heaping tbsp of garlic, but use as much or as little as you want)

-Lay the florets in a single layer on a large baking sheet. Make sure you cover the baking sheet with foil first!

-Roast for 20 minutes. The smaller pieces and the tops of the florets will be turning black. Play around with the timing until you find the right amount of crunchiness for you.

Serves: 2

Nutritional information for 1 serving (1 head): Calories:218, Fat:15g, Cholesterol:0mg, Sodium:734mg, Carbs:26g, Fiber:9g, Sugar:4g, Protein:7g

Too close for comfort

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 01:58:00 +0000

As much as I joke about my sweet dog being as dumb as a rock,

that little baby stepped up to the plate today.

Not as dumb as he looks, folks.

Like I've mentioned before, I have these irrational (or not) fears when it comes to running.

I've read way too many stories of people (mainly women) being attacked, or worse, while running.

For a while I was worried I wouldn't be able to get back out there again at all.

I was literally keeping myself up at night running through worst case scenarios in my head.

But we went out, every day, and as tense as I was I felt a little safer with Duke by my side.

Until today.

While out running on the little trail behind the apartment, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.

Two white blurs bolting straight up the hill towards us.

Two loose dogs.

Now, I'm not afraid of dogs at all,

BUT when you have two unknown dogs running full speed toward you, it's hard not to panic.

Thank goodness Duke didn't see them, but he knew something was up when I yelled,
"DUKE, RUN!!"

We took off down the hill toward the door in the gate that leads back into the complex.

We just made it to the door and I started punching in the code when they caught up to us.

I started panicking because I didn't want Duke to get hurt.

And of course, the door was broken, and wouldn't open.

At that point we had no close access to get back into the complex.

Fanf***ingtastic.

Love this place. JUUUSSTTT love it.

The dogs weren't vicious, but they certainly weren't friendly either.

I kept trying to pull Duke between me and the gate so the dogs would have a harder time reaching him.

But that little baby of mine stood between me and the dogs and growled, and barked, and snarled until he scared them away.

Please stop and read that sentence again.

Duke. My little brainless boy, protected his mama like a champ.

The dogs ran off and we had to walk along the gate back to the other door, which is also broken.

Needless to say I threw a freaking fit in the apartment office, while happily giving them our move-out notice.

After that I thought I would go back and check the gate again, to make sure it wasn't through some fault of my own that I couldn't get it open.

Nope, after six or seven attempts I was locked out again.

So I had no choice but to walk back up onto the trail to get to the other gate.

Here's where this gets creepy....

A little ways off into the woods I saw the two dogs....

sitting on either side of a man.

The dogs were not running around, they weren't out for a walk, there were no leashes.

The man was holding the two dogs with him back in the woods, watching the trail.

...Until Duke and I ran past.

I know I didn't see them out running or walking around before they came at us, because they're white. Once they came into view they stood out against the grass and trees vividly. If they were moving around at all before they came at us, it would have caught my eye immediately.

People run with their dogs all the time up there.
And the people who take their dogs off of the leashes have them trained to stay beside them, or they leash them when other people are out.
Oh, and they don't sit in the woods like creepy jackholes and watch people.

This was not a man taking his dogs out for a walk.

Those dogs were let loose once a girl and her dog came into view.

Looks like we won't be going up there EVER.AGAIN.

So this is my plea, to every single one of you that goes out running, or even walking.

Please be safe.

Keep your eyes and ears open while you're out.

If you have to listen to music, only put one headphone in.

Make sure someone knows you're out for a run, and let them know what time to expect you home.

Run with a phone if you can.

Never assume that just because someone else looks harmless or looks like they're just out for a run as well, that they actually are.

Don't follow a set pattern when you run. Mix up your routes and your running times.

If you feel like something is a little "off", for whatever reason, don't ignore it. Go a different route or head home.

And never underestimate what your dog will do to protect you. Canine instincts are crazy good.

No matter how dumb you think he is.

Oi, what a freaking world we live in.

Tether Ball

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 02:35:00 +0000

Duke is my running partner.

Which is a cute idea.

Girl running with her sweet Golden Retriever.

Except I have a knack for giving *special* dogs homes.

So this cute idea turns into a disaster every.time.we.run.

Let's talk about the running first though.

I ran cross country in college.

I know what it feels like to be in running shape and run an easy 6 miles. For fun.

I know that when I'm in shape....I absolutely love running.

However,

NOT

Shape

Now I understand why people think running is the worst.

Because when you're not in running shape, there is nothing enjoyable about it.

My knees genuinely feel like they are exploding.

I don't remember this part...

I also forgot how attractive running is.

I have one of those really beautiful complexions that makes me look like I've been holding my breath for the entire run.

SO, to get back into shape I found this running program on Pinterest.

You're basically walking/running and slowly increasing the running time every week.

The Monster and I are on week 4.

If you're thinking about starting running, or you want to get back in shape, I highly recommend this plan!

I, like most people, have a tendency to jump back into things way too fast.

And I get really really frustrated when I can't run like I used to, right off the bat.

This is the only plan I've ever done, and actually enjoyed enough to stick with it.

Because it truly does get easier and easier to run every week.

Unless you are trying to run with my dog....

This is how Duke and I run:

I wrap the leash around my waist,

loop the end of his leash into the handle twice (it's more secure when wrapped twice).

That way I'm free to flail my arms,

and we're still securely tethered.

Which is a brilliant idea, if my dog wasn't an idiot.

We run on this path behind our apartment that used to be rail road tracks.

It's now two dirt paths with grass growing in the middle.

Two very small, very narrow paths.

Oh, and the tracks drop off on either side.

Neither Duke nor I wants to run in the grass.

It has taken every bit of the four weeks to figure out the logistics of this.

We spent three of them kicking the crap out of each other.

He kicks me in the shin.

I kick him in the back of his leg.

He suddenly decides to stop, and trips me.

He lags behind, trips over my shoes, rams his head into the back of my knees,

and we both go down.

He also does this cute little thing where he starts leaning his body weight against my leg.

Causing me to subconsciously move into the grass,

and start sliding down the hill.

I literally stopped one day and yelled,

"YOU'RE A DOG!!!! YOU RUN IN THE FREAKING GRASS!!! I AM THE HUMAN HERE!!"

I'm pretty sure he actually rolled his eyes at me.

I think we've finally hit our groove though.

The kicking has dramatically decreased.

But now that I don't have to worry about stepping on him, I'm starting to notice other things

Like Duke gets the running farts....

BAD.

Also, he is capable of pooping...while running.

Doesn't even miss a beat.

And we're not even going to address his attention span, yet.

Today, we went out while it was raining.

Apparently there is one thing in this world my dog loves as much as tennis balls.

Puddles

His eyes glaze over and he sprints directly into the middle of the puddle.

Keep in mind we're on a dirt path....so there are puddles every other step.

And every puddle is just as exciting as the last.

By the time we got home we were both covered in mud up to our knees.

He got a bath and then refused to get out of the tub so I could shower.

So he fell asleep at the end of the tub while I tried to maneuver around a GOLDEN RETRIEVER.

Somehow during this process my running pants ended up being flung right into the toilet.

And Duke escaped from the bathroom to rub his whole body over the entire apartment.

My dog is ruining my life.

Moral of this story:

If you're debating working out today, I guarantee it's going to go a hell of a lot smoother than ours.

So do it.

And for the love of God, close your toilet lid.

Off and Running

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 23:17:00 +0000

Literally.

I think I've finally found a purpose for this blog.

Other than discussing why Matt and I will never be fit to be parents.

(don't worry, those rants will never end)

We're going to be healthy.

So here's how this all started.

My whole family has gone all healthy.
Like, all of them.

Within the last year/year and a half, my Dad has lost about 40lbs.

Good news is, he looks great.
And I had a lean mean healthy machine walking me down the aisle at my wedding.

Bad news is, he now walks around flexing, telling you to feel his "abs 'o steel."

"My guns," gets thrown around a lot too.

Also, the man is too cheap to buy himself some new pants.

Dad's weight loss fashion tip of the day:

No need to buy new pants, pull out those old pants that are now SEVERAL sizes too big for you and cinch your belt as tight as humanly possible.

Your pants will stay up AND it will create a beautiful ruffle around your stomach and pleats around your nether-regions.

My Mother-in-law ALSO lost 30-40lbs within that same time frame.
And looks great in her NEW smaller clothes.

And now my mother is on the verge of her very own ridiculous weight loss.
I think she's already down 10lbs and she's only been at it for a few weeks!

Again, which is good, because I'm so proud of her.
BUT also very bad because now I have to see statuses on Facebook like this little beauty:
"You know it's time to lose weight when you're doing jumping jacks and your butt starts applauding!!!"

I die a little every time she signs onto Facebook.

Which goes to show, above all else, that the Hugely Embarrassing Gene is in fact genetic.
And I got it from both sides.

----------

And that leaves Matt and I.

Surrounded by our super healthy, fit, shrinking parents.

While we made the conscious decision to just not give a crap what we ate for a few months after the wedding.

Mexican food...bring it.

Extra cheese on everything....get at me.

Pizza, wings, beer.....always.

Carbs...extra.

Veggies...pass.

We had until after the holidays...

And when you start throwing around the phrase "meh, it's ok, let's just call it our love chub," play time is over.

So now we generally eat healthy again, and we know how to eat really healthy if we're feeling fancy.

SO MAYBE, if I blog about it....it'll be that much harder to stop caring again.

Really, it's all any of us are talking about lately.

So if I'm going to blog about our day to day, that's all I actually have to talk about.

Here's what I think this might turn into:

-Healthy recipes that I've either found and loved OR something super simple that I've made up/tweaked from something else OR how I actually just destroyed everything because we all know what a freaking chef I am.

-Getting back into running shape (we're on week 5)/running/complaining

-The disaster that is running with Duke

-Probably more complaining

-My irrational running fears....like dying. Mainly just dying actually.

-How freaking hot it is....in February...causing me to feel like I am dying...while running....SEE?!?!!

-Healthy/fitness/generally annoying stuff I find on Pinterest, because that site is crack.

-Maybe it will be useful? I mean, probably not, but at least you'll still get to look at Duke.

How my dainty little baby fell asleep last night. Sorry 'bout the nads.

-Very possibly, it wil just make you feel better about yourself, and your own life in comparison.

-Ok, so pretty much the same diaster as always, but maybe a little more consistent? And definitely not any more serious, because I am incapable of that. As is everyone around me.

Wish me luck...

Holy Macaroni

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 20:03:00 +0000

Home. Made. Mac 'n Cheese

If you've only ever experienced the stuff from a box, we need to fix this.

Right now.

But you hate making things from scratch, right?

No excuse.

Our Thanksgiving dinner was 90% boxed.

I feel you.

So you have to trust me when I tell you this Mac 'n Cheese is totally worth it.

And did I mention the entire thing is cooked in the microwave?

As long as you can handle stirring and microwaving, we are good to go.

First get some noodles.

{Don't worry the recipe is written out nicely at the bottom, but keep reading if you want to see it done step by step}

Now I know you're thinking we're all fancy and healthy with our organic whole wheat pasta.

And sometimes we are.

Healthy, I mean.

Never fancy.

But this particular pasta was chosen based on it's cheese-sauce-holding potential.

And nothing else.

So clearly the type of pasta doesn't matter.

Oh, and I lied.

You need to cook the pasta on it's own first.

On the stove, in a pot.

Sorry 'bout that.

I usually start boiling the water for the noodles when I start making the sauce so they cook at the same time.

Now grab some mustard, flour, butter, and pepper

Mix it together in a bowl and pop it into the microwave for 1 minute.

Take it out and stir it.

If you're thinking to yourself, "this looks like baby puke"

You're doing it right.

Now add the milk to the gross mess, stir, and microwave for 2 minutes.

Take the sauce out, mix everything together really well, and then microwave for 2 more minutes.

When you take the bowl out, the sauce should have thickened up.

And look something like this:

If it's not there yet, just pop it back in the microwave for another minute.

Now get the cheese

The type of cheese doesn't matter at all.

We like to mix two different types.

Sharp cheddar is also especially delicious in this.

Use whatever you like.

The recipe calls for 2 cups of cheese.

I say, eyeball it.

The more cheese the thicker the sauce.

The more cheese, the better life is in general.

Scoop away.

Stir that all together so the cheese melts into the sauce

Now add in your cooked pasta noodles and mix everything together until the noodles are evenly coated

Stick it back in the microwave for another 5 minutes.

Done.

The World's Most Dangerous Macaroni and Cheese

Ingredients:

2 1/2 - 3 cups macaroni noodles (or any other type of noodle you like)

2 cups cheese

1/4 cup butter

1/4 cup flour

1 teaspoon black pepper

1 tablespoon mustard

1 3/4 cup milk

Here's what you do:

-Boil the pasta according to the directions on the box

-Mix butter, flour, pepper, mustard in a large microwave safe bowl

-Microwave for 1 minute and mix well

-Add the milk to the sauce, mix well and put it back in the microwave for another 2 minutes

-Stir the sauce and microwave for 2 more minutes

{if the mixture isn't thick enough at this point put it back in the microwave for another minute}

-Stir in the cheese a little bit at a time

-Add in the cooked pasta noodles and mix everything together

-Microwave the entire bowl of Macaroni and cheese for 5 minutes.

SEE?

So easy.

Which makes this macaroni SO dangerous.

Because now you have to convince yourself it's not a good idea to make this every single day.

I haven't come up with a good reason yet.

So guess what we're having for dinner tonight.

Again.

Enjoy, and let me know how it turns out if you make it!

DIY Thanksgiving

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 19:16:00 +0000

This year was our very first married Thanksgiving.

So we decided to stay at home and have our own Thanksgiving here.

Just us, and Duke.

Everyone was fine with us skipping out on the family bonding...

until they all realized that meant we were going to cook our own turkey.

Mom's reaction?

"You're going to die. You're going to get salmonella poisoning and die."

Because Sarah cooking = death.

By the time we were done talking to everyone we had no less than five different ways to cook the turkey.

We seriously considered combining all five methods.

Which probably would have started a grease fire in our oven.

So we just made up our own.

Here we go.

I took the turkey out of the freezer the day before Thanksgiving and put it in the refrigerator.

Just like Mom said.

Thanksgiving morning....The turkey is still Frozen.Solid.

Fantastic

Panic.

M: Call your mom right now!!

So I called my Mom, knowing exactly what I was about to face.

S: Mom, the turkey is still frozen solid.

*Pause*

Hysterical laughter.

Then she tells Dad, and they both lose it.

Dad: Looks like they're having Chinese tonight!

UGH

Mom: Do you have a plan B?

S: No we don't have a plan B! How do I fix the Turkey!?!

So we threw Mr. Turkey into a sink full of water, and left.

Hoping that things would magically be fixed when we came back.

Bingo.

Clearly benign neglect is the first step in cooking a turkey.

Write that down.

Everything was good to go when we got home so we started cleaning out the Turkey.

And by we I mean Matt.

Because I turned into a small child the second he started wiggling the bird around.

S: OMG you're just going to shove your hand right in there?

M: Yes. That's how you clean a turkey.

S: UUUGGHHHHHH WHAT IS THAT?!

M: Um, I don't know, the giblets I think

S: BAHAHAHAHAH GIBLETS!! hhhhhahahahahahahah

M: Really?

S: I'm pretty sure that's the best word, ever.

And then of course Matt stuck his arm right up the butt-end of the bird and turned him into a puppet.

WHAT? No picture?

I tried, but there was no way to frame the picture without revealing what a disaster our ~~life~~ kitchen is.

Also, we named him.

Henry

I decided to help, so I found some old apples in our fridge, chopped them in half, stood across the kitchen and hurled them into the turkey.

M: Why did you just do that?

S: I don't know, it looked all lonely in there

Then we wrapped him up, put him in the oven, set the timer, and crossed our fingers.

And took some family portraits to document our first Thanksgiving.

The boys took one picture....and it was perfect.

It took Duke and I six pictures.

And this was the best.

Then we wanted everyone in.

There has never been a more perfect picture, ever.

For the first hour or so, all we could smell was burnt plastic from that damn cooking bag.

We figured that meant we were doing things right.

And then....

Several hours and a nap later

Voila.

Still potentially poisonous, but Henry looked fantastic.

This is when we started cooking everything else.

And by cooking I mean we added water to the boxed potatoes,

put the corn in the microwave,

put the green beans in the microwave,

added water to the granulated gravy

and opened the can of cranberry sauce.

The best part was eating this beautiful meal in our pajamas, on our coffee table.

It was absolutely perfect.

I have never seen my Husband as proud as he was when we realized the turkey wasn't going to send us to the hospital and was actually delicious!

Then we ran out and met some friends at a bar to watch UT beat A&M for the very last time.

HOOK 'EM

And then, said friends, convinced us to experience Black Friday shopping with them.

They got all sorts of goodies.

We were there for moral support.

Yeah....all of those people standing on the right are waiting in line to check out.

Unreal.

The next morning, Matt carved up the rest of the turkey before I woke up.

M: Babe! Get your camera

S: Why?

M: Because Henry is naked! Come take a picture!

{I was half asleep and had completely forgotten that we named the turkey. I was just trying to wake up enough to figure out who Henry was and why Matt wanted to take pictures of him naked}

S: What are you talking about?

M: The turkey! Come look.

S: To take pictures? Of a turkey carcass?

M: YES!

So here you go, as per the request of my hubs.

Naked Henry.

OOOOOhhhhhhhhh

AAAAAhhhhhhhh

M: And look! I separated the white meat from the dark. Look how nice that looks. Take a picture!

S: Of turkey meat....

M: YES

WHOA.

Look at that meat.

Everyone needs to be as excited about this as Matt was.

WHOA.

So to end this incredibly long winded story.

Our Thanksgiving was perfect.

I highly recommend spending at least one Thanksgiving with zero obligations.

In your pajamas.

With the person you love most.

Fearing for your life, every single second.

You will never be more proud of successfully cooking a meal in your entire life.

I promise.

Death lives in my apartment complex

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Thu, 17 Nov 2011 22:31:00 +0000

And he’s a nudist.

Apparently.

Our apartment complex is a s**t show.

{Sorry, Mom. For the record, I tried to find a "nicer" word for you. I actually googled 'synonyms for s**t show' and it brought up clusterf***. So really, I choose the lesser of two evils right?

And I bleeped it. So, you're welcome}

I digress...

We live beside Jack Sprat and his wife, who smoke out the entire first floor of our building.

Who cares? To each their own right?

WRONG

I’m convinced that our bathroom air vent is somehow directly connected to the Sprat’s bong,

so I end up with a contact high every time I brush my teeth.

Then there’s Beefcake, whose affinity to junk-hugging pants sends Duke into a frenzy, in the mail room, because he thinks he’s found his long lost tennis ball.

In Beefcake's pants.

At the far end of the complex is the guy with the guitar.

Who practices his acoustic Scream-O on his balcony.

In a strange whisper-scream.

And I’m the girl with the pervert Dog who is absolutely convinced no one else can see me when I take Duke out during the day. This is especially bad for the leasing agents who have to explain to prospective renters why there is a homeless girl with a golden retriever wandering around the complex.

And then there’s Death.

Death is a very, very old man.

He likes to turn on all of the lights in his apartment, open up the blinds, de-robe, stand in front of the window, at his computer, and surf the net.

Duke and I met Death one night while we were out for a little evening stroll.

And there he was.

In all of his naked glory.

Standing with his hands on his hips, staring at his computer screen.

Thank God his computer desk was perpendicular to the window so we weren’t exposed to his ancient raisins.

But that bum…

There was so much of it, hanging in all of the wrong places.

So here’s what we can learn from Death:

Be naked as much as possible,

because you don’t look like Death yet.

And give your loved one’s bum an extra squeeze today,

because it doesn't hang anywhere yet.

And thank your lucky stars your bits haven’t turned to raisins, yet.

(You're welcome for not including pictures today)

No babies, this week.

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Wed, 16 Nov 2011 18:59:00 +0000

And the list continues.

If you're new, read this one first so you know what I'm talking about.

Here's why we're not ready for babies, this week:

#1. While driving around a little while ago Matt sighed, and said,

"You know, sometimes I just get tired of petting Duke. He just sits there and never wants you to stop. I just want to be like, "ugh, I'm tired of giving you attention.""

He was 100% serious and genuinely frustrated about this situation.

Petting our dog is too much work sometimes.

#2. Having kids is out of the question if you cannot agree on key issues.

Like kids on leashes.

I think it is quite possibly one of the best ideas, ever.

The kid thinks she's wearing an awesome teddy bear back pack.

And you get to yank her right off her feet when she starts running away.

What is not to love about this situation??

Matt is not of this same mindset.

"I'd let them run free and maybe go missing"

#3. Most weeks we cannot handle doing laundry for two people,

Let alone babies, who go through several outfit changes on any given day.

We usually run out of all of the basics before we feel the need to fix the situation.

#4. My maturity level alone should clear this whole situation up very quickly.

The St. Louis Cardinals player, Albert Pujols.

What does this have to do with anything, you ask?

His name is pronounced Poo-holes.

Or at least that's what I heard every time his name was said during the World Series.

So there's my husband having a stroke over the game,

and I'm giggling like a little girl because they lost me at "Poo"

Matt did not find this funny.

Nor did he agree with me.

#5. My TV show selections as of late have included such things as,

MTV's True Life: I'm joining the Marijuana Business

An OWN documentary on Polygamy

And my personal favorite....

A history channel documentary on Hillbillies

{wait, it gets better}

HOSTED by none other than Billy Ray Cyrus.

I refuse to change my ridiculous tv habits for Barney.

Or those weird grown men who sing and dance around.

#6. We have not grown out of our teenage sleeping habits yet.

Matt dragged himself out of bed at 1pm on Saturday.

I see nothing wrong with this situation.

#7. Most of my family would argue that my etiquette at the dinner table has not evolved much since this picture was taken.

So who am I to sit in judgement?

Clearly I am completely unfit to teach a child how not to throw food all over yourself while eating.

I'll let you know when I figure it out, kid.

#8. This blog alone would probably cause someone to call CPS on us the moment we announced we were having a baby.

We'd have our very own agent assigned to us in no time.

And we'd have to start calling her Aunt Sue, and invite her to birthday parties so the kid wouldn't grow up wondering why this person hung around so much.

For the millionth time, this is not supposed to be against people having kids in general.

I'm so glad other people have kids.

I'm a huge fan of other people's cute kids.

Other.

People.

We're babies, who don't want babies yet.

I hope these lists makes you realize this is a very good decision.

For everyone involved.

We'll let you know when those maternal and paternal instincts kick in.

When we're 30.

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Cookies

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 19:54:00 +0000

I'm just going to say it
I want fall to hang around forever.

For no other reason than Fall means Pumpkin Spice flavored everything.

It all started with the Keurig PS coffee, and it's been pretty much down hill ever since.

If you're in the market for a good pumpkin spice candle, go to Walmart.
Mainstays PS candles are THE BEST.
And cheap.
We may or may not have one on every surface of our apartment.
Delish.

I finally tried THE Pumpkin Spiced frappuccino at Starbucks and I just have to say....
Keurig does it better.

And then
Wait for it....
I baked
And I didn't ruin anything.
Except for the flour that somehow managed to explode all over the kitchen...

My mom makes these Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Cookies that will literally change your life.
I've had dreams about these cookies.
And they're so easy, even I can't mess them up.

So here's the delicious recipe for your eating pleasure

Mom's Out of Control Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Cookies

Ingredients

3 cups flour
1 ½ cups sugar
3 tsp baking powder
1 ½ tsp cinnamon
1 ½ tsp baking soda
1 ½ tsp salt
1 can pumpkin (15 oz.)
2 eggs
¾ c oil
1 tsp vanilla
1 ½ tsp milk
1 package chocolate chips

Here's what you do:

Mix the sugar, pumpkin, eggs, oil, vanilla, and milk together. (I used a mixer I'm sure you could do it by hand)
Mix the flour, baking powder, cinnamon, baking soda and salt together in a separate bowl.
Add the bowl of dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and mix everything together until blended.
Add in the chocolate chips.
Use a small spoon to scoop out the dough onto an oiled cookie sheet.
Bake at 350 degrees for 10-12 minutes (The bottom should be a light golden brown)
You can add any kind of icing, but they're so good even by themselves.

You need to go make these right now.

Go.

Go now.

Duke and I will be standing by

Practicing our Christmas card picture taking.

I think that last one is a winner.

We'll just photoshop Matt's floating head somewhere in the corner.

Don't even get me started on Christmas in November.

We'll chat about this tomorrow.

New Car!

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Sat, 05 Nov 2011 17:22:00 +0000

Remember that thing I said needed it's own blog post because it was THAT exciting?!

Here is it:

Matt and I bought our very first, brand new car!!!

This is very exciting for so many reasons.

Mainly because both of us have always driven older cars.

I drove a 1997 Camry all throughout college.

It was a fantastic car, until I woke up one morning, to this:

My mother had a photo album up on Facebook entitled "Sarah's Door Handle"

So I yelled downstairs to find out what this was about.

{that's right, you don't need to get out of bed for things like this}

S: MOMMM!!!!!!!

Mom: WHAT?!!

S: Is that a picture of my door handle on your desk?

Mom: Yep

S: Why is there a picture of it on Facebook?

Mom: Because I thought it was funny!

S: Why is it not on my car?!!

Mom: Because your father accidentally ripped it off of your car this morning.

S: Didn't want to tell me about it first?

Mom: Why would I do that?!

Being the frugal Scottish man that he is, Dad insisted on fixing it himself.

With super glue.

Which was fine with me, until it stopped working, and I would find myself in a parking lot, in the rain, with my door handle in my hand.

And it never failed that I was always standing in front of friends.

Did you just.....??

Rip my door handle off? Yep

Door handle and all, I loved that car, and I was sad to see it go when I moved away.

Matt drove a 1976 Chevy pickup in Highschool.
He had to put it into neutral and rev the engine just to keep it from dying at a stop sign.
Every time.
And the only air conditioning in his truck was rolling the windows down, going 40 miles an hour.
In Texas.

Then he graduated to a 2000, bright red Ford F150 in college.

This is what we drove until it decided to stop being a useful vehicle a few weeks ago.

He's a huge fan of the red.

{Driving next to a red car}

M: Is that what my truck looks like??

S: Yes, love.

M: But THAT red??

S: It's exactly the same color.

M:{Checking out the truck in his side mirrors}

Oh God. It is. This is so bad.

So we were faced with fixing the truck, for more money than it's worth, or looking into a new car.

New car it is.

2011 Honda CR-V!

Matt has only ever driven trucks, and refuses to drive cars.

I've only ever driven cars, and refuse to drive trucks.

So an SUV was the only way to keep us both happy.

And we had to make sure Duke had plenty of room.

Except he cries the entire time, because he wants to be in the front with us.
So this is where he stays

We're working on it.

The Evolution of Sexy

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Thu, 03 Nov 2011 21:18:00 +0000

November, or Movember, is Man Month.

Us ladies get a solid month of pink to raise awareness for breast cancer.

The boys grow mustaches to raise awareness for prostate cancer.

So, I decided it was a really good idea to beg my husband to bring back the handlebar mustache for Movember.

I've asked him to do it before, and he refused.

Which is why I wasn't actually expecting him to do it this time....

So when he agreed, without hesitation, I panicked.

Now I realize that technically Movember requires the men to be clean shaven on November 1st.

But I was told, "that's not how you do it."

"It" being the handlebars.

This man follows his own rules.

I was sitting on the counter whimpering throughout this entire process.

*sniff*"Goodbye hot Husband, I'll see you soon."*sniff*

M: Does it look good?

S: WHAT? No it doesn't look good.

M: Ok, Fine, is it straight?

S: Omg, I don't know? I don't know what these things are supposed to look like.

M: You're not helping

S: This is the worst idea I've ever had

This was an intricate process, folks.

Shaving legs ain't got nothin' on this.

Of course, the 'stache and sideburns could only stay if they were Hat Approved.

Anyone who knows this boy, knows he is rarely without a baseball hat.

Please notice the above smirk.

Obviously it passed the test.

He was pretty pleased with the situation at this point.

I, was not.

And now, I give you, Mustache Matt.

Hat and Sunglasses Approved.

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO TAKE THIS FACE SERIOUSLY.

All I see when I look at him is the 'stache.

No other facial features.

Just a floating mustache coming at me.

It's like living with someone's creepy Uncle.

Which makes him think it's totally appropriate to chase me around the apartment,

making pervy noises

and grabbing at me.

Honeymoon.Over.

Duke doesn't even know what to do with him

He has lovingly dubbed the 'stache " this animal on my face."

And I have to admit, it's growing on me.

Mainly because it makes me laugh every time I look at him.

I hope you weren't planning on taking any nice family pictures at Thanksgiving this year, Mom.

Because Mustache Matt is coming for dinner.

{Edit: I have been informed that this is in fact a Fu Manchu, and not a handlebar mustache. Clearly I am not up on my Mustache Lingo! So many mustaches so little time}

Why we're NOT having babies, this week

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 19:47:00 +0000

Week 2
If you missed the first installment, take a minute and catch yourself up here.

Quick summary:
We're Young.
We're Married.
And we have no intention of having babies, anytime soon.
If ever.

How's your mind?
Blown?

You're not alone.
HENCE, the list.

Encouraging us to have babies RIGHT NOW, is just wildly irresponsible.
Shame.On.You.

Here's why it's a bad idea, this week:

#1. Kids, and trash bags full of free candy.
I was not built with that much patience.

#2. I'm not dealing with that whole, I-need-a-new-costume-every-year crap.
Whatever, Pipsqueak, I had one of two costumes to choose from.
Minnie Mouse or Witch.
Year after year.
And Matt was a clown every single year.
Until he was 13.

Choose that first costume wisely, kid.
Choose. Wisely.

#3. However, this is never an option:

{Thanks Kat :). I don't know the actual source of this one}
Little kids dressed as the cast of Jersey Shore.
LITTLE.KIDS.
Therefore, my dear hypothetical-never-gonna-happen-children,
You don't get to choose your own costume until you're 18.
So I am no longer legally responsible for you looking like a hooker.
Minnie Mouse it is.

#4. I don't know how to look a kid in the eye and say, "No, you can't have skittles for breakfast."
While eating a bag of skittles for breakfast.

#5. I'm not willing to stop eating the occasional bag of skittles for breakfast just to prove a point.
Do as I say, not as I do.
You're 5, I'm not.
Sucks for you.

#6. Come to find out, Matt has also never changed a diaper.
I'm not sure I've ever even touched a diaper.
That poor little baby would end up being duct taped into a grocery bag.

#7.We can buy these things:

Because we're grown-ups.
Having to share this loot with kids, makes it not worth buying anymore.
Why would we ruin this?

#8. I don't like being sticky.
Surviving a little kid Halloween without being some kind of sticky by the end of it, is not reality.

#9. I've seen way too many episodes of Criminal Minds.
Trick-or-treating = death.
Unnecessary amounts of additional stress.

#10. "But you can totally benefit from trick-or-treating with your baby, and getting all the free candy."
I say, trick-or-treating with my dog dressed up as a frog is equally as logical.
If not more.
At least there is still a small chance the dog might get a treat out of the loot.
ZERO chance that baby even sniffed any of that candy.

Again, this is just us.
I'm sure your kids are angels.
And never sticky.
And don't dress up like hookers.

Ours would.
So you're welcome,
For not having kids this week.

Occupation: HO

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Tue, 01 Nov 2011 19:42:00 +0000

It seems like no matter how hard I try, I can never write a post on the weekend.

I tried it once, and Matt sat there and read every word over my shoulder.

I almost killed him.

Each post always sounds REALLY stupid when I start.

It usually takes a solid three or four tries to get them sounding less stupid.

Less stupid is all we can really hope for.

Husband wasn't privy to this complex creative process.

ANYWAY

Mister came home on Thursday and took me out to a lovely birthday dinner.

{Photo credit: our bookshelf}

At our favorite Sushi restaurant.

Unbelievably delicious

Then we came home and finished watching Game 6.

With Best Friend on Skype.

Husband and Best Friend bonded.

It was sweet.

Until the game just started getting ridiculous.

And then everyone was just yelling at each other.

And panicking

Including Duke

Who gathered all of his prized possessions with him, under the table, for moral support.

Socks.Bone.Rope.Bug.

No amount of superstition could help that game.

Ugh.

Friday was probably the most exciting day we've had since our wedding day.

But that has to wait for it's own post.

It was THAT good.

Stay tuned.

Then at some point this popped up on our shower curtain:

{Please tell me you see what we saw}

A little alien man wearing a fedora.

RIGHT?

How does that happen!?

My God, this is one of our better posts...

We also had to run boring errands this weekend.

Including getting our insurance all situated.

So the lady printed out our paperwork to go through with us, line by line.

Names...Check

Dates of birth...Check

Other important numbers...Check.

Occupations.....WHAT?!

Matt's occupation:

Yeah yeah, supervisor.

Sounds right.

My occupation.....

W.H.A.T?!?!

Oh yes, these are actual pictures of the OFFICIAL insurance paperwork.

Ho.

HO!

The insurance lady's response, when Matt pointed this out and started laughing hysterically?!:

"Yeah, take that however you want."

Thank you for leaving this WIDE open, lady.

Fan.Freaking.Tastic.

This one is NEVER going to die.

So, I decided to embrace my new occupation.

And Matt came home to this last night.

You can't fight fate, I guess?

Husband: "Yep, that fits your new job description perfectly."

SHUT UP.

It was halloween.

He's just lucky I didn't have more makeup at my disposal last night.

Six bags of candy,

one face of drag queen make up,

and ZERO trick-or-treaters later...

Things turned out pretty much perfectly.

Twenty Three

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Thu, 27 Oct 2011 20:57:00 +0000

23 Today

Twenty.Three.

There is absolutely zero significance to that.

Except that it gives me every excuse in the world to eat nothing but cupcakes today.

Check.

Which I made.

And they're edible.

AND delicious.

{we're all going to disregard the fact that it looks like a 3 year old iced them}

{and the fact that they're from a box}

IRRELEVANT.

Edible

AND Delicious

However, the last time chocolate cupcakes were involved in a birthday,

things got a little sloppy.

Class and elegance is not something you learn.

You're born with it.

Husband surprised me with a cute bag

And Make Up.

That he bought all by himself.

Zero surprise that he was able to work the word "naked" into my birthday present.

And then some of the best conversations, ever, happened:

-My sweet grandmother called to read me my astrological forecast, for my birthday.

Summary: life is going to be pretty much perfect for the next few months.

Perfect :)

-Dad called me to discuss the fact that his daughter is, "an old, married, bag now"

-One of my best friends skipped the "happy birthday" wall post and just wrote:

"Go Shawty"

Which prompted my mother to call me and ask what a "Shawty" was.

And then we had to have a conversation about it.

"What is a Shawty?"

"Does he mean SHORTY?"

"Or Shawday"

Hearing my mother say "shawty" repeatedly may, or may not have been the best birthday present.

Of all time.

-Best friend and I usually call each other at exactly midnight every year to wish the other a Happy Birthday.

Just to make sure we're first.

Well it came a little earlier then midnight this year:

"Okay so I know it's not officially your birthday for a few more hours butttt I took my night time medicine about an hour ago and I'm fading fast."

23 looks so good on us.

-I had a really mature conversation that ended with, "Why are farts SO FUNNY?"

-{This chat with Husband at work}

S: Did I mention I've cut off my arm, so you should probably come home and take me to the ER

whole arm
gone

M:lol

S: this is serious
I'm losing a lot of blood
I'm probably going to be dead in the next few minutes
so
come home?

{Husband ignores me and keeps talking about what he was asking me}

{I ignore him back}

M: hello?

S: oh sorry! didn't see that. you know with my arm and all

M: Ok
alright babe, gotta go
I love you!!

put a band-aid on that arm
be more careful next time
I told you no using knives while I'm at work
I love you baby, talk to you soon.

The trust.

The love.

The concern.

It was overwhelming.

And let's all be perfectly honest with ourselves.

NOTHING feels better on your birthday,

than logging onto your Facebook

and seeing that everyone you've ever met, ever, is wishing you a happy birthday.

We all joke, but birthdays have never been better.

{until I start replying back with "Happy Birthday!" instead of thank you}

Thank you everyone for being so sweet, and crazy, and entertaining on my birthday!

I sincerely appreciate every single birthday wish!

And let's just go ahead and add a World Series win to this perfect day, shall we?

{don't worry, I'll be wearing the jersey}

RANGERS!!!!!!

Baby?

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Wed, 26 Oct 2011 21:04:00 +0000

Oh Em Gee WHAT?!?!!?

You're ridiculous.

See, I would have given this the ACTUAL blog title, but then most of you wouldn't have clicked this.

Because you think this is my way of announcing that we're having a baby.

Go have another drink.

And then you can keep reading.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE!

We have been married for a little over two months...and something about that makes everyone think it's ok to start using the word "baby" around me.

No thanks.

Not now.

Not anytime soon.

Maybe not ever.

Marriage = Babies

WHY

How in the world can you possibly think we are fit to be parents.

What was the actual blog title going to be?

Why NOT to have babies, this week.

Yep, we're going to make this a weekly thing, just to reinforce the issue.

Because there actually are enough reasons every single week why we shouldn't have kids.

So here are the reasons thus far.

#1. We list reasons why not to have babies to each other, on a daily basis.

#2. My husband doesn't trust me using knives by myself.

Trusting me alone with a baby, is out of the question.

#3. It is frowned upon to put a kid in a cage when you leave the house.

#4. Ok, fine, you're not "supposed" to leave them unsupervised, in general.

Ever.

Apparently.

#5. 0:15 - 0:33 in the following clip.

The language in this house is wildly inappropriate.

Only at home though.

When it's just the two of us.

No one else needs to hear that.

Until you have a kid, that goes around repeating it.

And then everyone knows it's mother is a filthy sailor.

#6. At no point do I remember ever changing a baby's diaper.

Which is fine, until I remember that I have looked after babies on more than one occasion.

Good thing I retired from that at an early age.

#7. Breast pumps.

I shouldn't even have to say anymore, but I will.

On more than one occasion they have been pointed out in a store:

S: THAT is why we're never having kids

M: What is THAT???

S: A breast pump

M: How do they work??

S: WHY WOULD I KNOW THAT?!!

Are those suction cups?!

M: OMG

S: Walk away. Walk away quickly.

#8. When Matt stops calling me an infant, maybe we'll talk.

{never going to happen}

#8a. Matt threatens to buy me a bib on a weekly basis.

#9. We had a serious talk a few nights ago as to why we're not ready for a puppy.

A. PUPPY.

#10. I cannot handle the smells that come out of the two boys I live with.

Let alone being elbow deep in a diaper.

#11. We are both really heavy sleepers.

I have literally dropped a metal alarm clock onto a metal lamp stand, right beside Matt's head,

and he didn't even move.

I have slept through fire alarms going off IN my bedroom.

Only to wake up with my father on a ladder, in his underwear, trying to fix it.

This is never the first thing you want to see when you wake up.

#12. Husband yells at the microwave for being too loud when it beeps.

Imagine what he'd do to a screaming baby?

#13. Screaming babies.

That's it.

#14. I'm pretty sure they don't make these anymore:

So having a kid becomes completely irrelevant

#15. I have a really bad habit of referring to babies as "it"

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to say having babies young is bad.

Or that having babies in general is bad.

I'm sure some people were born to be parents.

I know people our age or younger, who are amazing at it.

We just aren't those people.

And I'm going to keep reminding you why.

Every.Week.

Superstition and the World Series

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Tue, 25 Oct 2011 19:38:00 +0000

My husband takes baseball seriously.

He has played baseball his entire life, and it is No. Joke.

The World Series is a life and death situation.

And my family single handedly affects it's outcome.

Wait....WHAT?

Oh yes.

Baseball players are known for being superstitious.

What I didn't realize was, that it stays with them for the rest of their lives....

For the entire post-season, whenever the Rangers are winning or starting to come back, I can actually feel Matt taking a mental inventory of everything that is going on at that exact moment.

Exhibit A

While watching one of the Detroit games, Matt noticed that Duke was laying down chewing on one of his toys.

The Rangers were winning.

Logical correlation?

The Rangers were winning BECAUSE Duke was laying down.

Which meant we had to keep Duke laying down for the rest of the game.

Not easy.

I just sat back and watched Matt panic every time Duke tried to stand up.

No worries, he got plenty of treats for his cooperation.

Exhibit B

It's game 2 and we're losing by one run.

Top of the 9th

Husband's head is exploding.

I was standing at the door taking Duke's leash off when Kinsler scored a run and Andrus moved to third.

Matt looked at me wide eyed.

"I'm going to need you to take Duke back outside."

Seriously.

He genuinely wanted me to stay outside with Duke until the game was over.

The ONLY reason I was able to stay inside was because I convinced him I was entirely inside of the apartment when the run was scored.

Otherwise I would have been wandering around the apartment complex waiting for the OK to come inside.

Fantastic

Exhibit C

Last night, Game 5.

The Series is 2-2

We need to win.

My husband is on the verge of a stroke.

Duke is laying down.

Matt and I are sitting on the couch.

Our dinner is cooking.

The game is tied.

The oven timer started going off, so I stood up to take the chicken out.

M: DON'T

S: But the chicken!

M: The chicken can wait, you need to sit down.

Fine.

Chicken goes back into the oven.

Bottom of the 8th, we score two.

Oven timer AND Microwave timer are both going off now.

I know better than to try this time, so the beeping just continues.

Matt is now simultaneously yelling at the game AND microwave for being so loud.

The beeping becomes way too annoying so I try to get up to turn them both off.

M: WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

S: Turning everything off
M: NO SIT DOWN!

S: But....

M: YOU DON'T UNDERSTANNDDDDDD!!!

I sit.

Rangers win.

Obviously.

However, this time his superstition has come back to bite him in the butt.

I decided to wear his prized Michael Young jersey last night.

He was thrilled to see that when he came home.

{what's yours is mine schnookums}

At the end of the game I looked right at him,

S: you know what this means right?

M: What?

S: I HAVE to wear your jersey again on Wednesday.

M: UUUUGGGGGGHHHHH, you're totally right, you have to wear it.

Logical.

So no worries, we will win Game 6...

As long as we all sit.

I wear the Young jersey.

NOBODY moves.

Duke stays off the couch, and is laying down at all times.

Our neighbors don't make a formal noise complaint against us.

Or maybe I just need to wander around outside for the entire game.

Don't worry.

We got this.

Serial Killer

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Thu, 20 Oct 2011 18:59:00 +0000

Our dog is a serial killer.

He has slowly tortured another one of his toys.

Duke doesn't just rip toys to shreds all willy nilly.

Nope, he carefully tears them apart piece by piece.

Larry lost an eyeball and all of his insides.

The bear?

Lost his entire face.

This poor guy is listed on Duke's boarding form, at the vet, as "headless teddy bear"

Awesome.

The new guy?

Lost every single one of his eight legs.

I'm usually quick enough to stop him before he eats the bits and pieces.

Not this time.

He yanked off and ate, every single leg.

Have fun squeezing those out, Bud.

Karma.

What did that toy used to be, you ask?

A bedbug.

Obviously.

It was given to us at the State Fair.

Probably the most logical and useful thing I've ever picked up there.

But he loves this bug SO MUCH.

Almost the entire thing fits into his mouth at once.

And that's where it stays.

We couldn't even bribe him with treats to drop it.

And it's one of the only toys he recognizes by name.

I just asked him to get his bug and this is what I got

Uh. That face.

The boys cuddled and watched the Ranger's game last night.

Clearly neither of them were impressed with the score.

And then Matt feel asleep like this:

Yep, hanging off the edge of the bed.

{He's going to kill me when he gets home and sees these.}

Love you honey :)

It took genuine effort on my part to convince him that sleeping like that wasn't a good idea.

I asked him where I was going to sleep.

He scooted his head back a few inches and pointed to the corner right above him.

Duh.

And that whole not letting Duke sleep on the bed thing?

It's going really well.

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Fall

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Wed, 19 Oct 2011 21:18:00 +0000

Texas' fall weather would actually be considered summer in most places.

And it's less a change in weather as it is a cold front blowing through.

It’s probably going to be over 90 degrees next week.

Irrelevant.

Here are some tell-tale signs that fall has arrived in Texas

-- Everyone screams it all over facebook the second the temperature drops even slightly.

-- There are no more of these being posted:

ridiculously hot temperature readings

-- You no longer feel like your head is trapped in someone’s sweaty armpit when you breathe outside.

-- It becomes really hard to get people to go places on the weekends.

Saturdays and Sundays are for football.

Watching football, drinking beer, and eating.

No thanks. We’re busy.

-- Duke spends most of the day playing out on the patio.

With every single one of his toys.

Each of which he takes the time to drag out.

One by one.

It probably doesn’t help that all of the neighbors stop to tell him how pretty he is as they come and go.

You poor deprived unloved dog, you.

-- Pumpkin spice flavored EVERYTHING. Mmmmmmmmm

-- The air conditioner has stopped running on full blast 24/7.

(but it's not ready to be turned off just yet)

-- All of the girls immediately break out their sweaters/hoodies/scarves/boots that haven’t seen the light of day since February or March.

Not because we’re so cold that we have to.

No, we wear them because this is our first chance to do so without sweating.

-- World Series. RANGERS!!!!

-- You can’t actually depend on the leaves to tell you anything about the seasons.

Our leaves never change colors

(unless they have been singed by the heat or burned in a wildfire).

Burnt.

The landscape doesn’t change with the seasons.

It’s perma-summer until the green leaves suddenly drop off the trees for a month or two (in the “winter”) and then immediately start growing back for spring.

Fall. Obviously.

-- We can finally open our windows to let a cool breeze in, because there finally IS a cool breeze

-- Best friend is angry all the time because she’s cold.

Most of our conversations start out with “UGH! It’s so cold out. I hate it.”

-- Our state has stopped trying to spontaneously combust.

-- Nearly-naked Halloween costumes.

These kids will never experience the joy that is wearing your costume OVER a snow suit.

Me and Dad, bundled for a little trick-or-treating circa 1991

Pink snowsuit, mittens and a hat.

It doesn't get better than this

-- It’s actually started to rain again.

-- It was so cool this past weekend in Dallas that we actually had to get up and close the windows while we were sleeping because we were so cold.

Unheard of.

-- The continuous state of sweating that everyone gets stuck in all summer long is finally over. This is a really good thing for everyone involved.

-- It’s 73 degrees and I’m sitting here wearing a long sleeved shirt, a hoodie, fuzzy pj pants, wool socks and slippers.

Drinking coffee.

Because I was cold.

I would show you but then how could I tell you how sexy marriage is?

So.Sexy.

Fall brings out the best in everyone.

Rules of the State Fair of Texas

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 20:41:00 +0000

The State Fair of Texas is one of those things that you can't really believe until you see it.

Or smell it.

Or let's be real, eat it.

So here's a little peek at the biggest and best state fair in the entire U. S of A

Mister and I at the Dart station headed to the fair.
(when this much fried food and beer are involved...let the public transportation do the talking)

The first stop of the day was obviously Fletcher's Corny Dog stand.
State Fair Rule #1: It's best to leave the other condiments alone for the day.
Mustard is all you need folks.

Next was the car show, where you can sit in, and play around with just about any car you could ever want.

Moving right along to endless buildings full of useless crap that you will never need or use.
It's like real, live QVC.

State Fair Rule #2: Not only are all of the things crap, everything they tell you is also crap. I promise that magic bracelet will not be able to help your balance once the State Fair is done with you.

Swinging hammock chair?
No?
In the market for something a little bigger?

How about a Texas sized/shaped bed?

Or a lighted ~~Lazy Susan~~ Boosin Suzzin' for your drinks?
This is a need, not a want.
Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

If buying crap isn't your thing, you can go stick your hands in some animals' faces.
Most are pet-able.
Others you should probably never touch.
Ever.

State Fair Rule #3: Don't touch these guys

Some are the usual state-fair-esque animals.

Like Longhorns!
HOOK 'EM!

Celebrity Cows,

Donkeys,

Llamas,

Lambs,

And Goats.

Why is every single one of these animals asleep?
Because it's October, and still hot.
They're over it.
As is the entire state.
State Fair Rule #4: When you're hot, take a nap.

Some animals just come out of nowhere.

Camel?

Zebra?

(Clearly not doing as well as the Camel in the heat)

And then there was that one really awkward roommate situation.

State Fair Rule #4: Embrace the fact that you smell like a barnyard. You're never alone in that one.

Show time.
What's better than watching a tiny dog ride a bigger dog who is dressed up like a horse?
Nothing.

State Fair Rules #5 & #6: When training dogs, wear the appropriate attire...

...and make sure your son is as equally bedazzled...

...and has a mullet that only Billy Ray Cyrus himself could love.

And how can we forget about the man of the hour.

Big Tex.
Who talks and waves to you in all of his disproportionate glory.

State Fair Rule #7: Do not leave the fair without taking your obligatory I'm-with-Big-Tex picture.

Now, the fair is not all fun and games.
You can also witness some serious artistic endeavors.

Solid Butter, friends.
SOLID. BUTTER.

Then, if you're lucky, you'll run into something completely unexpected that will make your day infinitely better.

Like this cute couple wearing their matching Texas Flag jean shirts and riding matching Hoverounds.
Motoring around the fair like nobody's business.

State Fair Rule #8: ALWAYS have your camera handy. You can not prepare for these things.

Ok, you and I both know that you're not interested in any of this.

So let's talk about the food.

Nacho's as big as your head:

Greasy burgers:

Fried Ice Cream (out of control good):

We didn't try many of the fried delicacies this year.

We've all experienced that one year when you ate WAY too much fried everything at the fair, and swore to never go back as long as you lived.

And then when you inevitably go back the very next year you take it a little easier.
This was us.

State Fair Rule #9: Always go back to the State Fair of Texas

But, I made sure to document most of your possible options of fried goodness.

take.your.pick.

I realize the entire ~~country~~(fine) world makes fun of Texas for our fried food.

And you would think that we would be ashamed of this.
WRONG.

Most of us take sweet, sweet pride in the fact that our state can fry just about anything you throw at us.
Really.
Try it.
(It's probably already been done)

Here are some more randoms from around the fair.

Marine Corps Band

Floats and such from the Reliant Energy lighted parade that takes place every night.

The gigantic Texas Star ferris wheel that looms over the entire fair.

State Fair Rule #10: When someone starts singing (which always happens at some point), "OHHHH the stars at night are so big and bright" you should most definitely know how to finish it.

And finally...

State Fair Rule #11: Make sure that at least once in your lifetime you experience the State Fair of Texas, just to say you did it.

Bathtubs and Robbers

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Tue, 27 Sep 2011 21:07:00 +0000

Oh, Duke.

Saturday night Matt and I were in the living room watching TV when we heard a crash come from the bathroom.

S: What was that!?
{we got up and started walking toward the bathroom when Matt looked at me and started laughing}

M: Duke's in the bathtub again.

That's right, we have to say again in this house, because this has become a common occurrence.

Sure enough

There he was.
In his glory.
Sitting in the tub.

Come to find out, there was a reason for the tub-jump this time.
On the floor was a little tiny gecko.

That's right, our 50 pound Golden Retriever jumped into the bathtub because he was scared.
Of a baby gecko.

Then, last night our genius boy was at it again.

I had just started to doze off when I heard a noise.
When I realized what it was my heart started racing.

Let me just say that Duke is a very quiet Dog.
He rarely barks, and never growls.

Well, Duke was growling.
A deep, big-dog, scary, scary growl.

I panicked.

Duke doesn't growl?! EVER.
This has to be bad.
Someone's in the apartment.
We're being robbed.
Why didn't I hear the alarm??
They're in the bathroom.
Did they already get Matt?
Why is he so quiet?!
We're gonna die.
We're all gonna die.
(You guessed it. Actual thoughts)

I whipped around and grabbed my cell phone and flipped on the light.
You may think a person in this situation would grab a cell phone to call for help.

Wrong.
My plan was to hurl it at the head of an intruder.
Logical.
I was in survival mode, alright?!

The light is on, cell phone is poised, ready to hurl.
And I'm in a cold sweat because my life just flashed before my eyes.

What happened next?
I looked to my left and Matt is purring like a kitten.
Clearly he was as shaken as I was.

And then I looked down to my right.
There he was, in usual form.
Sound asleep.
On his back.
All 4 legs straight up in the air.
Growling.

you.have.got.to.be.kidding.me.

Obviously he was chasing after the imaginary intruders because he flipped on his side and started frantically running in his sleep.

He is infinitely more active in his sleep then he is awake.

M: I wonder if he's disappointed when he wakes up and realized that after all of that running he's still stuck here with us?

OHHH, probably.

THE.BEST.

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Tue, 20 Sep 2011 21:56:00 +0000

We've been waiting for our wedding pictures since...well...we got married.

I went to check the mail today and we had a package.

SWEEETTT The pictures are finally here!

So I sat down and started ripping into this little box.

Did they stuff the package with yellow foam balls to protect the dvd of pictures?

(actual first thought)

And then...my life became significantly better.

Meet Dave

I almost fell onto the floor I was laughing so hard.

"WHHHAAAATTTTTTTTTTT"

Now let me give you the back story.

WE LOVE DESPICABLE ME.

More than normal adults should probably love a children's movie.

Matt and I have watched this no less than 50 times.

...this summer

We brought 3 movies with us to the beach for the wedding/vacay.

This was one of them.

The morning of the wedding me and two of my favorites watched it TWICE while getting ready.

Exhibit A. Wedding morning lookin' rough watching Despicable Me.

Therefore....there is no one in the would who could love this little guy more than us.

Except maybe Duke...

(Don't worry, Dave is not a chew toy {we all remember what happened to Larry}. He was stolen while I left the room)

SO who would send us the best surprise ever?!

Only one of my favorite people on the planet.

One of the few who can appreciate our obsession with this movie.

The one in the middle of our morning cartoon picture.

And this incredible person.

Are you kidding me? The best, Chels. THE BEST.

As fantastic as all of this is...it made me miss you sooo much :(

AHH I can't wait for Matt to see this when he gets home.

It will be documented, for sure.

Run, Don't Walk.

Get this movie now.

Watch it

and thank me later.

Friday Night Lights

noreply@blogger.com (Sarah Kelly) — Sat, 10 Sep 2011 22:00:00 +0000

This weekend involved more serious discussions on our part.

Here are the talking points:

Cooking involves an entirely new vocabulary of completely unnecessary words.

WHY?

Like julienne.

Why is that new word necessary?

Why is it so hard to say "now cut your food into really thin strips"

Who the heck is Julienne?

Does she prefer her food cut into very thin strips?

Why can't it be Matthew? {ten guesses which one of us suggested this}

"Now Matthew your vegetables and put them in the pan."

Right? Logical.

Yesterday I realized we should limit our contact with society to a bare minimum.

I had to go to the doctor to get some blood word done for all of my immigration stuff.

They decided to make us wait alone in a little conference room.

*Cue my fully grown husband spinning himself silly in an office chair.

And then stamping me with the office's address stamp on the inside of my forearm.

Right where they were about to take my blood...

Awesome.

Don't mind the stamp nurse

After that ordeal we came home and took our obligatory weekend nap.

Until about 9-ish.

At which point we headed to Walmart to get some groceries.

This place gets infinitely better as it gets later into the evening.

Husband and another man bonded over their excitement for the "game-day" bucket-o-cheez-its.

And then there were the Christmas lights...

No, no, Walmart has not put their Christmas decorations up yet

A man was wearing them.

Draped over his head and around his body like a shawl.

Fully lit.

Why.Was.My.Camera.At.Home?!

Friday night ended with mister eating ice cream out of the carton.

Straight from the freezer.

And cuddles with the little one.

{half laying on me, half standing on the floor}

Now it's Saturday, and we're doing what every logical person should be doing.

Drinking and watching College football/ the Rangers.

The geniuses at the grocery store introduced me to this little concoction:

1 part Blood Orange Italian Soda to 1 Part Don Simon Sangria.

Out.Of.Control.

Add frozen fruit instead of ice cubes and you're pretty much in heaven.

Maybe we'll be back for a post-drinks collaborative special later tonight.

Terrible ideas make the best posts I feel.

Oh, And....Hook 'Em!