Saturday Morning Funnies on Saturday Night

Desperate Housewives: Okay, so I usually don’t tell anyone that I watch this show because well, it’s Desperate Housewives.  The truth is that I have never missed an episode--even during the awkward seasons 4-6 when the writing just got ridiculous.  I mean, the writing is still ridiculous, but I decided to come out of my DH closet because I’ve really started loving/hating some of the characters again.  I’m so glad that Bree is finally getting laid, and who better to do it than Brian Austin Green?  So glad to see Paul Young back on the scene in all his creepy glory.  And the best thing about this season has got to be the addition of Vanessa Williams’ character, Renee Perry, for two reasons: 1) it’s great to finally see some color on Wisteria Lane (that is not related to murder), and 2) it makes the mourning over the loss of Ugly Betty a little less severe.  So that’s it.  I like Desperate Housewives.  There.  I said it.  No take backs.

Brothers and Sisters: So, I’ve been bad-mouthing B&S the last couple of weeks because the writers were simply off their game--it was like the writers from Desperate Housewives took the reins this season.  Anyway, this week’s show is starting to draw me back, mainly because we’re getting away from the RIDICULOUS Holly Harper drama and getting the stuff we love--monologues from the best ever Mama Bear, Nora Walker.  So, Nora’s got a gig at a radio station, and her children end up calling in to boost her ratings.  Justin, Kitty, Kevin--they are all going through some pretty tough shit right now--a divorce, a dead husband, and the inability to conceive, and this other more famous woman on the show keeps adding her two cents.  This is what Nora has to say to her and all of them:

“...statistics can’t hold your hand at night or share a cup of coffee with you in the morning.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to lose a husband?  Well, I do, and  so I know...listen, you’re grieving.  Not only for the husband you lost but for the life you had envisioned.  You’re grieving for the future and all the plans and dreams you had in your head.  Now that’s all gone.  There’s a wonderful saying.  You have to give up the life you’ve planned to find the life that’s waiting for you...all our lives, we grow by giving up things, by loss and moving on, big things, little ones.  How we handle those losses really defines who we are.  Where are you now?”

“I’m at my mom’s house.”

“Great, great.  That’s a really good idea.  But listen, you don’t really need her to tell you what to do.  All you need from her is just to listen.  That’s all.  A place where you can talk out loud, where you can think.  What you think, not her.  You’ll know what to do and what not to do.  And you’ll know when it’s time to move on.  And to the gentleman who called in earlier with the ‘womb envy?’  What the hell is that anyway?  You don’t want a womb!  You want a child.  You tried and it didn’t work out, and that loss, or disappointment as you put it, is just as real as Katherine’s, so is the grief and sadness, and if you don’t acknowledge it and feel it, it will never get out of the way.  Unacknowledged feelings are like a drunken cousin at a family reunion.  They never shut up, so you can hear anyone else, and you have to be able to hear what’s next in your life, what path you might want to travel down with or without children.  You have to be able to see what’s right there, right there, right in front of your eyes.”

That’s the Mama Bear I was missing!  I hope we can get all these disjointed stories pulled together, so the Walkers can have some more family dinners and scream at each other.  Oh, and I agree with my friend, Misti--there is never going to come a time when I think Sarah, Plain and Tall, belongs with a French painter/model.  Get rid of him...which is apparently never going to happen after this last episode.

Glee: So, we have all been waiting for the Rocky Horror Glee Show, and they certainly delivered.  Interestingly enough, the Glee cast has been in the news for taking sexually charged pictures in GQ the same week that they decided to do Rocky Horror.  Coincidence?  I think not.  Now, if you’ve never seen a live show of RH or even the Rocky Horror Picture Show (the movie) from 1975, you probably felt as lost as Finn:

Finn: I have no idea what’s going on in this script, and not in a cool Inception kind of way.

But have no fear, even after seeing the show a million times, I’m not even sure what it’s about.  All I know is it’s lots of sexy transgendered fun with catchy, absurd songs.  It did, after all, begin it’s claim to fame in the age of Grease and other equally ridiculous musicals that sixth-grade girls across the world can sing from start to finish.  A couple of neato things to note:

1. We get cameos from Barry Bostwick and Meat Loaf, who played Brad and Eddie, respectively in the movie.
2. The role of Frank-n-Furter is played by Mercedes, playing to the best of theatre tricks with the cast playing a joke on the gender-bending musical by bending the gender back in the other direction.  Amber Riley’s version of “Sweet Tranvestite” was the highlight of the show for me.  That, and Finn walking down the hall in his undies.

And here are a couple more ha ha lines:

Sue: Thanks, Rod.  You know, Halloween is fast approaching, the day when parents encourage little boys to dress like girls and little girls to dress like whores and go door-to-door brow-beating hard-working Americans into giving them free food.  Well, you know what, Western Ohio?  We’ve lost the true meaning of Halloween.  Fear.  Halloween is that magical day of the year when a child is told their grandmother’s a demon who has been feeding them rat casserole with a crunchy garnish of their own scabs.  Children must know fear.  Without it, they won’t know how to behave.  They’ll try frenching grizzly bears and consider living in Florida.  So, moms, skip trick-or-treating this year, and instead, sit your little toddler down and explain that Daddy’s a hungry zombie, and before he went out to sharpen his pitchfork, he whispered to Mommy that you look delicious.  And that’s how Sue Sees it.

Sam (dressed as the creature): Um, also, Ms. Pillsbury, is there a way I could, wear, like, some gold board shorts or something?  These are really short.  I’m afraid I’m going to show off some nuttage.

Finn: Wait, since I said I’m uncomfortable in the tighty whities, does that mean I’m going to get replaced?

Sam: No, you don’t have to worry about that.  The Brad part isn’t about looking hot.  It’s about being confident in who you are and how you look, no matter how douchy you are.  That guy's totally cool with being uncool.

Finn: Yeah, I’m definitely not there.  I actually started showering with my shirt on.

Sam: Look, stop knocking yourself out here.  Just be you, and the sexy will flow through.

And props to the writers for figuring out a way to get Rocky Horror onto the show in the first place because clearly, most high schools in America would NEVER even consider it.

Friday Night Lights: Okay, so we switched to Directv about a year ago because Time Warner was being screwy, and although I hate that we lose service in storms sometimes, I am so glad we did it if only for the fact that I get to watch Friday Night Lights.  (I don’t understand all that cable rights mumbo jumbo, but it’s really freaking stupid.)  I know a lot of people who are like, “Oh, I’ve never watched it.  I’m not that into football,” to which I always respond, “It’s not about the football.”  If you’ve never seen FNL, get a Netflix membership and get caught up.  It’s totally worth the $8.99/month. Four things from this episode that rocked my socks off:

1. Coach Taylor is still my hero, and Tami Taylor is the hottest mom on TV.  I have to pick my husband’s jaw up off the floor every time she walks onto the screen, which is actually preferable to his being attracted to Julie, I guess.  She’s pretty hot, too.
2. It seems like Landry gained a little weight since last season, which makes his geekiness just a teeny bit sexier.
3. The scenes when Coach Taylor gets all misty-eyed and nostalgic about his family and then when Landry visits Matt Saracen’s grandma before leaving for college are the reasons I watch this show--so, so real.
4. We’ve got a new character--Hastings Ruckle, a hippie who thinks “football is stupid” and brings out the worst of American society.  Whatever, hippie.  You still look hot in those pants, and I’ll forgive you for rocking the skull cap like some hipster hondo because you helped the Lions pull down a W.

I do feel a little bit creepy lusting after all these high school football players, but I get over it pretty quickly when I realize they’re actually 28 in real life.  I also get angry when I think about the fact that this is the last season.  I’ll just have to watch them over and over on Netflix, I guess.

I ran out of time to write about everything I watched this week AGAIN (why must life get in the way of my TV watching?), but here are a few other shows that were on top of their game: Modern Family (Claire is my Halloween mom hero!), The Office (MacGruber!), Parenthood (the scene between Julia and Joel was HEARTBREAKING), and The Good Wife (power to car-bashing women everywhere--even if it was Jason Street’s car [sorry for the FNL reference, but Scott Porter will forever be my favorite wheelchair-bound hottie]).  I’d like to think life is going to slow down enough for me to truly enjoy TV blogging, but the holidays are not exactly the time when I get to be lazy.  One day I hope to do nothing but wear pajamas and eat chocolate-covered almonds in my favorite chair with only my red blanket and remote to keep me company.  A girl can dream, right?

More Kidding Around

Picture by Carlin Fisher Photography

When I started this blog a couple of months ago, I needed an outlet so I didn’t go insane.  I had been blogging about my kids for a couple of years at THIS HERE FANCY BABY BLOGGING WEBSITE (mainly to give the grandparents and a deployed daddy access to pictures), which was great but I really needed something that wasn’t about my children.  (I’m not saying blogs about kids are bad.  In fact, there are a couple of blogs I follow that are exclusively about the authors’ children that are really fantastic.  You can view them HERE and HERE.)

But since I started blogging here, I really miss blogging about my kids.  So, I’ve decided I’m going to stop posting on the other blog and just occasionally post some things that are specifically about my kids here.  They are, after all, pretty awesome, and here are some reasons why:

Will (after counting to one hundred): Mom, when do the numbers stop?

Me: They don't.  Numbers go on forever.  It’s called infinity.

Will: So...when Buzz Lightyear says to infinity and beyond, he means he’s going to fly to forever?

When we were leaving the house this morning, Ben pulled some Oreos out of the cabinet.  We were running late, so I grabbed two (one for each angel) and pushed them toward the car.  In the car, Will said, “Mom, where are the rest of my cookies?”  I calmly said, “Will, it’s 7:40 in the morning.  You don’t need anymore cookies.”  He screamed, while banging his little paws on his car seat armrests, “I AM FIVE, NOT ONE, SO I WANT FIVE COOKIES, NOT ONE!!!”  I (again calmly) said, “Will, I don’t appreciate you screaming at me, and you are not having anymore cookies.  If you continue to scream and act disrespectfully, I will take that one away, too.”  He got quiet for about a minute, and as I watched his face contort in the rearview mirror, he said (very calmly), “Mom, you are grounded from my birthday party.”

When I was little, I had a rock collection.  Don’t know why, but now that I have kids, I’ve learned that this phenomenon is not unique to me.  Both of my boys are obsessed with rocks.  Every time I clean out the car, I find dozens of rocks, big and small, in the seat and on the floorboard that they have collected.  If they are around when I’m cleaning out the car, I can’t throw them away because they are “very most special.”  Today, when we dropped Will off at school, Ben and I were walking back to the car (which was parked in the GRAVEL parking lot), and it took us fifteen minutes to leave.  I swear he picked up every piece of gravel along the way.  Each time, he looked up at me as if he’d discovered gold and said, “Look, another one!”

Words Can't Express...

I picked up a book a couple of years ago when I was spending a B&N gift card called The Meaning of Tingo by Adam Jacot de Boinod.  I had about $4.00 left on the card, so I grabbed it because it was $3.99.  Best B&N impulse buy ever (and I’ve had a lot of them!).  The book is basically a list of quirky words in languages from all over the world.  Here are some of my favorites (I’m not going to mess around with accents, so my apologies to any native speakers.):

mokita (Kiriwana, Papua New Guinea): the truth that all know but no one talks about

sahaba bi-wajhi (Arabic): to begin the day by seeing someone’s face

Backpfeifengesicht (German): a face that cries out for a fist in it

puccekuli (Tulu, India): a tooth growing after the eightieth year

o ka la nokonoko (Hawaiian): a day spent in nervous anticipation of a coughing spell

teklak-tekluk (Indonesian): the head bobbing up and down with drowsiness

cooperar (Spanish, Central America): to go along willingly with someone else to one’s own disadvantage

yi luan tou shi (Chinese): courting disaster by immoderately overestimating one’s own strength (literally, to throw an egg against a rock)

Scheissenbedauern (German): the disappointment one feels when something turns out not nearly as badly as one had hoped

So, I could literally go on and on and on and on with these words.  People always say that English is one of the hardest languages to learn, but look at all those words for such specific things.  English has over a quarter of a million words, yet it’s still inadequate in certain situations.

For instance, what do you call the noise that is emitted when a guitarist slides his fingers down the strings?  You know, that streaky squeal of a noise that sends shivers up my spine and turns me to mush. (For a perfect example, listen to Fistful of Mercy’s “30 Bones.”  It’s like Ben Harper is stroking from my neck to the small of my back over and over.  Like WHOA.)

What do you call the feeling when you really like that someone is in love with you when you’re not really into him/her?  Or what do you call that feeling in reverse?

What do you call the little point of skin right in the middle of the bottom side of the upper lip?

How about an odor that you smell occasionally for which you can find no source?

Is there a word for the lies parents tell their children to avoid giving clues about Christmas presents?  (I know we have “white lies,” but I’m talking lies specific to Christmas--there should be a word for those!)

What about when you’re friends with a couple and you only like one person in the couple?  Shouldn’t there be a word for the person you like and one for the person you don’t?

If anyone knows words for these things, please fill me in.  Otherwise, let’s work on some neologisms and see how fast we can get them into the dictionary.  I mean, bootylicious made it, so why can’t our words, right?

Oh, and by the way, “tingo” is a Pascuense (Easter Islands) word meaning to take all the objects one desires from the house of a friend, one at a time, by borrowing them.

Because Dressing Up Is Awesome

In anticipation of the coming weekend, I’d like to use this post to reflect on past Halloweens for the Johnson Quartet.  Until my kids are big enough to be embarrassed to be seen with me, we will dress up as a family.  (I didn't dress up the first two years because I was throwing a pity party for myself because Scott was not there, but after that I stopped pouting and started wearing costumes.)

Will was almost two months old on his first Halloween, so naturally he was our little pumpkin:

Also, I’ve pledged from the beginning to try to encourage my children to be whatever they want to be, to not be one of those parents that has an agenda for her child’s life before he even leaves the womb.  But when it comes down to it, doesn’t every mother want her son to be a doctor?  (He waited for Daddy to come home to dress up in his REAL costume.)

In 2006, Will got this cheap little Curious George doll in his Easter basket, which became his go-everywhere friend (until we lost him somewhere about a year later).  So, it made perfect sense that since I couldn’t separate him from Curious George, he should be the Man in the Yellow Hat:

For some reason, this picture refuses to rotate, and I'm tired of fighting with the computer.  It's just as cute sideways as up and down, I promise.

So, I’ve shared that we are all Harry Potheads around here, and this was really the last year I could make Will be what I wanted him to be for Halloween, so we had a perfect little Draco Malfoy in 2007:

And here we are as Lucius and Narcissa (Bokonon was dressed as an owl):

2008 was the first year that I let Will decide what we would be as a family, and this was the result:

Yes, I am 8 months pregnant.  And yes, I went trick-or-treating like this.  And yes, Kim Kardashian decided to be Wonder Woman this year, too.  Screw you, Kim Kardashian.  When it was time to trick-or-treat, Will’s friend Cate joined us, which caused him to want a costume switch for trick-or-treating (very much in the spirit of Toy Story 2!).

In 2009, Will wanted to be superheroes again, so that was the plan...until we went to see Where the Wild Things Are about ten days before Halloween.  FYI, there are no Max costumes, and I have NO sewing skills.  None.  Well, I can sew buttons.  So, all of our costumes were made with fabric glue.

 

And check out Ben's 1st Halloween costume.  CUTEST.  WILD THING. EVER.

This year, Will has decided that he and Ben want to be astronauts (who knows what will happen when Ben has an opinion?), and he wanted Scott and I to be asteroids.  I talked him out of it because I was having flashbacks to making last year's costumes--all the glue and feathers and tiny scraps of fabric all over my living room...the horror, the horror.  So, I convinced him that martians would be a good idea.  His response?  "Well, you can do that if you want, but asteroids are way super cooler than martians."  (He is five, you know, which makes him the King of Cool.)

Saturday Morning(ish) Funnies

Okay, so it’s not Saturday morning (this is becoming a trend), but here are some funnies anyway.  Truth be told, between the visit from our phavorite phish phriends last weekend and a visit from my parents the past four days, my DVR is backed the eff up, so I didn’t have time to watch most of the shows, so this is a very short week in brain damage:

Brothers and Sisters: I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m kind of tired of the Walkers.  Actually, strike that.  I’m not tired of the Walkers.  I’m tired of the ridiculous story lines that this season has showered upon us.  Can we just kill off Holly Harper?  Because I totally don’t care about her amnesia.  The only time that story line is acceptable is on soap operas from the 1970s.

The Middle: The Heck family decided it would be a good idea to host a foreign exchange student.  The entire scene was epic, so I’m including a good amount of it.  I totally see this being our family one day.  (Sidenote: Patricia Heaton guest-hosted on The View twice this week--hey, don't judge me--and that woman is freaking funny.  Pretty sure we could hang out over some vodka tonics and swap kid poop stories mixed in with some dirty jokes.)

Frankie: Listen guys, that was the reverend, and he said there’s a bunch of foreign exchange students still available.

Mike: I’m sure there are.

Frankie: Remember at church today, I was talking to Nancy Donahue, and she said it’s a very rewarding experience that makes kids more tolerant.  And our kids could use some more tolerance, Mike.  And guess what--there’s a kid in Japan who would love to come to Indiana.

Axl: Why?

Mike: Foreign exchange kid?  I don’t know Frankie.  We have enough trouble paying attention to the kids we have.  

Sue: Do we get to exchange someone?  Because I vote for Axl.

Brick: I’m in.  This is way better than the dog you wouldn’t let me get.  Can we name him Rex?

Frankie: Guys, guys, it’s not about that!  This is about us hosting someone, making a difference.  We’d be like a pebble that makes a tiny ripple that becomes this wave, a wave that starts in Orson and becomes bigger and bigger all the way to Japan.

Mike: Those big waves are called tsunamis, and they don’t like them.

Frankie: Mike, I’m serious.  We have a real opportunity here.  We’ll be like ambassadors.  Then he goes out in the world and tells people how great it is here, and pretty soon America’s popular again.  Come on, Mike.  I talked you into hummus, and you ended up liking that.

Axl: I’m down, but as long as it’s some super hot girl from Finland or Sweden.  Is there some kind of catalogue we can look at?

Dialogue gold.

Modern Family: Okay, the conversation between Mitchell and Cam about Lily’s preschool plan is only so funny because I’ve met those people--the ones that think their kid isn’t going to get into Harvard if she doesn’t get into Holy Mother of God College Preparatory Snooty Snot Day School for K2.  (ATTENTION PEOPLE: “K2” is a mountain, not kindergarten.)  The scene when Claire breaks down after screaming “REPRESENTATIVE!” into the phone at an automated service was like a page out of every day in my life.  This show is NEVER disappointing.  (BTW, my dad is apparently the only person in America who does not like this show.  Super lame.)

Mitchell: But then I ran into Lori.

Cam: Boobs Lori or Adult Braces Lori?

Mitchell: Great Shoes Lori.

Mitchell: We have got to get her into school, Cam, or she’s going to fall behind.

Cam: Don’t you think I know that?

Mitchell: This is perfect.  Ah!  Leave it to the gays to raise the only underachieving Asian in America.

Claire: What do you think the public library is for?

Haley: I thought that was the bathroom for homeless people.

Mitchell: Cam, this is the first time that being gay is a competitive advantage.  They’re choosing teams for gym class, and we’re finally getting picked first.

Cam: I always got picked first.  I could throw a dodgeball through a piece of plywood, but I see your point.

THE WHOLE TRUTH: Okay, I don’t have anything funny to say about this show, but I will say that it is really, really good, and I hope it doesn’t get cancelled...which means it probably will.  I could be completely wrong--this show might suck, but I just want to squeeze Rob Morrow's cute little cheeks every time he smiles.  And that Maura Tierney--everyone loves a smartass who can actually back it up by being smart, right?  This week’s episode revolved around a kid who may or may not have killed his parents, and both of the kids who played the suspected murderer and his brother were super creepy.  I’m keeping my eye on this Gabriel Notarangelo kid--I have a feeling he’s going to start popping up all over primetime with his innocent kid/potential murderer face.

8 Reasons I'm a Better Mom than My Mom

Excuse me, but what is this death contraption?  I can only imagine the conversation that occurred when they decided to let me sleep in this.  “Oh, metal poles with smaller metal poles holding up a vinyl seat?  There’s no way this could ever come apart and gouge her eyes out.  What’s that?  Oh, she’s slumping...just stick a block under her cheek.”

This is just salt in the wound.  It wasn’t enough to put me in a swinging guillotine.  Let’s continue the trend in the car!  Notice the “safety restraints” are not buckled.  I can only hope the car wasn’t moving.  (I’ll forgive my mom for the fact that I look like I haven’t been bathed in days and am wearing clothes I borrowed from a homeless person.  We had been fishing right before my parents loaded me into this moving death trap.)

Happy 2nd birthday!  Just for you, our sweet little girl, we’re going to hire a pedophile clown (he took his make-up off because if you can believe it, I was screaming even harder when he was made up) with a pedophile dummy.  Isn’t this fun?  (I still hyperventilate when I’m within fifty feet of a live clown.)

What is this about?  Do I look like Cinderella?

Again with the borrowing clothes from a homeless person.  I’m pretty sure I was trying to run away in this picture, but I couldn’t pull up the garage door because of those damn mittens.  Notice: I was already modeling RESPONSIBLE motherhood by taking my Cabbage Patch doll (christened Anna Nicole by me) in my bike basket.

I’m an only child, and it was definitely on purpose.  My mom refused to go through labor again, and my dad got a vasectomy when I was two, despite the fact that everyone around them thought they were crazy.  The result?  I had to play bingo with my dolls.

My mom let me leave the house like this.  And then she took pictures.  Not only are my bangs the most ridiculous thing EVER, but I’m wearing a HUGE t-shirt tucked into a pair of gym shorts.  If my memory serves me, I think I was wearing flat brown huaraches from Payless, too.

Two words: competitive dance.  I know I said I loved dancing when I was little, but seriously...this is PROOF that my mom wanted me to fail at life.  This particular picture is from a dance to the song “Walk the Dinosaur” with which our group won local, regional, and national competitions because you know--cavewomen were all the rage in 1989.  I could fill up pages and pages with pictures of me in ridiculous costumes, giant hair, and caked on make up, but I can’t bring myself to look through anymore dance pictures.

(I dropped Will on concrete when he was three months old.  I burned Ben’s leg on a motorcycle last month.  I let them eat candy for breakfast and potato chips for dinner.  I seat them at the table with bowls of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and turn on cartoons, so I can ball up on the couch and go back to sleep for fifteen minutes.  I didn’t sign Will up for soccer this season because I didn’t want to get up early on Saturday mornings.  I let Will choose his clothes all the time, and I probably won’t even stop him when he decides to go goth in 7th grade (many pictures will be taken).  And I fully plan on embarrassing them in front of their girlfriends when that day comes.  I consider it my duty.)

We Are Old, but We Are Still Cool. We Are. No, Really.

A couple months ago, we got a call from Scott’s best friend, Jefferson, telling us that Phish’s schedule was released, and they were playing at the North Charleston Coliseum (approximately 20 minutes from our casa).  Jefferson was the best man in our wedding, and he and then girlfriend, Kristin, caught the garter and bouquet.  I think it’s safe to say we’re the reason they’re married.  (You’re welcome, JJ and Kristin.)

So,  JJ booked tickets to Charleston and with wife and babe (Siri) in tow, they showed up here ready for a good time.  Phish was playing two nights, so the boys would go both nights, and Kristin and I would each go one night, taking turns watching the kiddos (exhibit A that we are old).  The rest of the weekend would be filled with kid birthday parties (exhibit B) and general tomfoolery (which should really be renamed jeffersonfoolery).

If you don’t visit www.theoatmeal.com regularly, you should.  In honor of THIS, I decided to outline the weekend like this:

1. BAR PHOTO

Jefferson is actually holding MY beer, but it wouldn't have been the right kind of picture if he was just flashing a peace sign or something.  The boys decided to move to the stands rather than the floor on night two because they had more beer on their shoes than they consumed the night before (exhibit C).  I agreed it was a good plan because my height makes it impossible to enjoy concerts from the floor.

2. FOOD

We totally staged this with the pizza crust from a Papa John's box that belonged to this girl,

whom we assumed was clean enough to share pizza crust with.  The girl in the row behind us (who had been participating in extracurricular activities immediately before this comment) said, "Aww...you guys are like the cutest lady and the tramp ever!" to which I replied, "Hey, he's no lady!"  Ba-dum-bum.

3. SCENERY

This is the road I was driving down coming back home from birthday party #2 of the day before we got our phishdom on that night.  I stopped to take a picture because a) I needed a picture of scenery, b) it really is beautiful, and c) if I ever get the chance to star in a horror movie, it will end here.  This road is really creepy at night.

4. CONCERTS

The band arrives.  GLOW STICKS!!!

Pink Phish

White Phish

Phish Phans and their balloons

5. KISSING COUPLES

We are not the kind of people who make out in public, so we tried to take the creepiest kissing photo possible.  And I'm pretty sure we succeeded.


6. YOUR CAR

Exhibit D is perhaps the most damning piece of evidence that we are old.  We own a car that can do this.  Yes, those are THREE car seats in a row, and there was still room for FOUR adults.  


7. BATHROOM MIRROR PICS

Look, there's a bright light reflecting in the middle of us!  The Oatmeal is right.  That's totally stupid.




So, anyway, the weekend was fun, and we proved that although we're old, we can still hang with the hippies.  Aside from the concerts, we also made a stop by the beach, and I feel bad that Kristin didn't make any of the pictures, so here's proof,

which is also pretty rad because most of my friends are not spending days at the beach in the middle of October...maybe I WILL miss SC a teensy bit.