Wanted: Older Brother for Toby

Per Dan's previous post, he flew in for the weekend and it was BEAUTIFUL! In the 90's and everybody in Boise was out and about.

As you can see in my Rose Garden post below, my brother Ryan and I had hung out at the park earlier that week and I wanted to take Dan on the same trail because I enjoyed it so much. However, it all proved to be a little too much for Toby who was very tired by the end of our walk. So we tethered him up and played some frisbee. Now, most dogs would be interested in what their owners were doing- especially when it involves throwing a frisbee. But not Toby. He walked as far away from us as his tether would let him and stared longingly at the other dogs in the park.



It was at this moment that I really realized we need another dog. Dan has been talking about getting another dog for awhile, and I've always been up for it, but I really understood when I saw how lonely this silly little dog looked at the park. First, despite the fact that Dan is amazing with Toby I think he wants a manlier dog. Second, I like to run and walk A LOT. I walk Toby three times a day. Lucky the little bugger has a lot of energy, but on days like Sunday when I want to go for long walks in the park and its hot out-its just too much for him. Third, Toby needs another dog to play with, especially while we are gone at work.


Hence we are now in the midst of getting a new dog, big dog, so any suggestions on breeds people have enjoyed would be very helpful. (Please note how freaking cute Toby is curled up on Dan's laundry.)

Yougert/Yogurt, Tomato/Tomato

Dan just informed me that I misspelled yogurt on my shopping list from a previous post. At which point I was like "NO I DID NOT. Y-O-U-G-E-R-T." This led to a battle of words and me having to google the spelling of yogurt. Lame.

I am sure if my 2nd grade teacher Mrs. Brabec was a fan of this blog she would be mortified if she saw that her 24-year-old second-year law student did not know how to spell yogurt. And its even spelled phonetically. I am mortified (but don't doubt that I will have many more unfortunate spelling moments.)

Cool New Feature to the Blog!

As you will notice, on the right hand side of the blog there is a column entitled "Melissa's Mobile Updates." This will allow me to text comments straight to the blog everyday that I want to post when I don't have access to a computer. Since both Dan and I are texting fanatics, you can expect it to happen often so check back throughout the day (if you care). Currently, only my phone is hooked up but we will get Dan's hooked up too this weekend. And yes, I pretty much think I am a blogging God for finally figuring this twitter thing out.

Boise Rose Garden

Dear Mr. Albertson's Jerkhead....

So today, I decided to use up some of my ever-so-precious "after work" time to go to the grocery store for the above listed shopping items. After writing this list, I realized that my life (and lack of cooking) has become so utterly pathetic that I took a picture to prove to the world that someone needs to buy me a personal chef, otherwise there is a very strong possibility I will die of malnutrition (however I will look damn pretty dying, hence the mascara).

So I am at the store, minding my own business, trying to decide whether to buy Special K or Wheaties (feel free to list your preference in the comment section) when I encountered the RUDEST MAN ON THE PLANET. His wife is sitting there jibber jabbering on her cell phone staring at the oatmeal, and he thus decides that the cereal aisle is "his aisle." While there was no formal proclamation, I assumed he thought it was his by the way he stood in the middle of the aisle refusing to move his cart for me to pass.

I was somewhat disinterested in the man at the time, so instead I gazed at the wall of wonderful cereal that does not require an oven, and waited for them to pass. As I go to move back the man RUNS INTO ME, leaving what I am sure was a massive bruise, at which point I instinctively say "Oh my God, I am so sorry!" even though the tragic collision was HIS FAULT. And what does this Aisle King say back? NOTHING. But he did give me a look like I had just killed a puppy, and huffed off. as his jibbery wife gallivanted after.

Dear Mr. Albertson's Jerkhead, you are lucky that I don't have enough money to sue you for the massive bruise you left on my arm, nor the energy to write the complaint myself. Futhermore, I am trying to be Oprah-like and have decided that rather then being angry at you, I am going to pity you because obviously your life is SO TERRIBLE your wife can't even stand to talk to you while grocery shopping.

Hurmph.

Beautiful Moon Sky

Tonight when I was working out on my patio there was the most vivid moon that I have seen in weeks (must be because it is the first day of summer). This picture doesn't even remotely capture the vibrancy of its light, but I thought it captured the moment as decently as my little Nikon Coolpix 4300 could.

Epicurious

I am not a good cook. In fact, I am quite terrible at it. You can ask anybody who has seen me cook rice....like, even in this moment I am having a panic attack remembering whether I am supposed to boil or brown first. I ruined so many packets of that San Francisco treat chicken rice thing that I stopped buying it. Even when I do remember whether brown or boil comes first, I always put too much water in and it gets all mushy and gross. Anyway, point is I am a bad cook. I can't even make rice.

That being said, I try. I really do. In fact my New Years Resolution that lasted for a whole month was to make a new recipe every other week that I had never tried (which basically meant only cereal and mac and cheese were excluded.) Well, I failed miserably. Every week when it wasn't my turn to cook Dan would produce such some magical plate of cooking wonder, until finally all my domestic pride had been stripped of me. I told him that I would have to take mechanic classes to take away some manly chore of his like he took cooking away from me. Or I might just sit on the couch while he cooks and I watch CNN. Probs the latter.

On a happier note, there was one good thing that came out of my one month cooking attempt, and that was Epicurious. It is a great great great website for wonderful recipes and great wine pairings. I did have one very successful recipe from their website, their enchiladas- which I must say turned out pretty damn good. So good, I would like to share it with all of you HERE

If I can cook it, anybody can.

Its late, so I am finishing up my dinner of Special K (from the box, no milk) and glass of of wine. Goodnight!

BEST AND WORST- Part II

Alright, back to the series of event that constituted one of the worst nights ever. (Part I of this story is below.)

So, I sit down on this tiny plane next to weird-guy-who-almost-got-his-ass-kicked-by-me. He was about 5'9, approximately 130 pounds, red hair, and had very pale skin. He was wearing some M.C. Hammer pajama pants and a lime green shirt. In his lap was a book about Albert Einstein. I had no desire to talk to him, so I never even looked at him.

At this point I am sad because I know I will not see Melissa again for twelve days, still pissed at the stupidity of the woman going through security, scared because the plane looks less than trustworthy, and annoyed by the mere presence of someone next to me who I know is inevitably going to bother me during the flight. Apparently Frontier Airlines decided that they would go ahead and add serious anger to these feelings by once again failing to take off on time.

Just like every Frontier flight I took this past weekend they boarded the plane close to on-time, but as that take off time approached we just sat on the runway. Five minutes after the take off time had passed we were still sitting on the runway...and then ten minutes. I think in this particular case we were waiting for the chemicals to dust crops as we flew over them was taking longer than usual to load. FINALLY, we took off.

My laptop computer was out within a second of the little bell dinging to tell me it was okay to use "approved electronics." The plan for this leg of the flight was to watch the rest of the West Wing Season 2 DVD I had brought with me. My compute however, had different plans. It took me restarting it 4 times before it would finally play the DVD. Nonetheless, once it finally started working and I began watching my new favorite TV show, I subconsciously started letting some of my anger subside... BUT, it was still under the surface waiting to be ignited by some jackass...

That’s right, enter weird guy sitting next to me. Alright, here’s the deal. We all know that when the flight attendants say "start shutting down your portable electronic devices," that it means you have about 5-10 minutes to shut your computer down. With only 5 minutes left in the episode I was watching I figured I could finish it up before the flight attendants are even bothered by the fact that my computer is still on- which was probably true.

So there I am, ear phones in my ears enjoying the last few minutes of the episode- when out of my peripheral I see a pasty freckled hand move towards my laptop. THEN this guy starts tapping right on the place that I rest my hands when I am typing. I could not believe it. Who the heck thinks its okay to touch someone else’s laptop? Some of you might be thinking, no kidding, laptops are expensive- which I was thinking as well. BUT, for those of you who do not know me very well, there was another problem with this jackass touching my laptop. I am as close to being a germophobic OCD person as you can get without being crazy.

As I watched is germ infested pasty hands touch my laptop, I ripped out my head phones and just stared right at him. In a voice that sounded like Steve Erkel’s he says, "they want everyone to shut down their laptops."

What follows is my internal monologue over the next ten seconds.

Okay, that’s it, this guy is about to get the ass-kicking of his lifetime. I wonder if could plant my lighter on him and claim he was trying to set-off some sort of shoe bomb, before I jumped in and saved everyone’s life by knocking him out. Huh, if I am going to try and claim he was a terrorist, I guess I shouldn’t say the words that are about to come out of my mouth.

Crap, too much going on inside my head. I want to beat him up, but I also want to ask some things, like: "who the hell made you the airline police?" What is wrong with you? Were you beaten like a red-headed step-child by your little sister when you were growing up?
Wait! What was the first thing I said? "Who made you the airline police?"

Damn it! With my luck that’s who this guy will turn out to be, and then my he-was-a-terrorist-story won’t work. Maybe this is one of those times where I should just do nothing...I know Melissa loves me, but would she come and visit my in the federal penitentiary? Probably not. Man, I wish this guy knew how lucky he is right now. Crap, that flight attendant looks scared, why does this plane seem like it is being tossed around in the air like a kite?

Yep, that’s right everyone- the crop duster felt like it was going down. And instead of comforting the passengers, the pilot started saying things like, "We are hitting some very unexpected weather;" "looks like we are going to get in a little latter than expected, we are going to have to do some zig zagging to get around this whether;" "folks we are going to need the flight attendants to discontinue everything at this time so they can sit down and fasten their seat belts...tightly."
At this point, I was trying to figure out what I would do if the plane started going down for real. I decided that I would first send a text message to my loved ones, then call Melissa, and then so she would not have to actually hear the plane crash I would hang-up about a minute before we hit the ground...and then I would start pummeling the guy next to me until we hit the ground!

No need to worry, as I am sure you figured out, the plane did not crash.

I got off the plane, and headed to my connecting flight. Trying to calm myself down, I think about how I get to watch the Laker’s beat the Celtics on the next flight because the plane has direct TV and I was happy because surely not all 4 Frontier flights I take this weekend can be delayed- WRONG on both counts.

There is very little I will say about the Laker game because it just makes me mad.
(Kobe, if your out there, what’s going on man? I thought we were cool. Do not give everyone who insisted to, that you are better than MJ, anything to use against me.)

Okay, back to that night. I get on my flight and look to the entertainment guide in the seat-back pocket to see what channel number ABC is, so I can catch the tip-off. WHAT!?! Frontier has every channel but ABC! You have got to be kidding me. What did the pilot just say, we are going to be departing 40 minutes late! Frontier you seriously might be the worst airline ever, your customer service sucks, you don’t have the Laker game, you are perpetually delayed, and your flight attendants always make it a point to tell us the name of the stupid animal on the tail of the plane.

Alright, I think I need to get Zen or I am going to lose it.

Alright new plan: I can watch the rest of the West Wing on my DVD player AND continuously watch the score on ESPN news. That was my plan. All was going according to the new plan, I was trying to be Zen, like Phil Jackson (the Laker’s Coach). Zen was working, in part because I was on the Season Finale of the West Wing and it was really good. So good, I was not worried about the fact that the Lakers were losing, it was fairly close.

All things considered I was doing okay. The finale was coming to a close, things were building up to that final minute... the episode had not disappointed to this point and I had not checked the score of the game in a while...THEN: BLANK SCREEN.

My battery had died right as President Bartlett is walking into the biggest press conference ever! Immediately, I look up to the ESPN news ticker. The Lakers were now down by somewhere around 19 points...

Best West Wing Clip Ever

So Dan and I have got really into the West Wing recently, and tonight we decided that so far, our all-time favorite scene has to be Biblical Quotes (although I still maintain that Abby and Jed's first fight in the Oval Office is a close second). Check it out below.

Friday 11:55PM- Sunday 3PM: BEST EVER! Sunday 3PM- 11:40PM: WORST EVER!

As Melissa's post below states, after a very long week apart we spent an amazing- but way too short- weekend together. Sure "absence makes the heart grow fonder," but screw absence- it sucks! In fact it sucks so bad, that I would do this weekend all over again today if I could, which is saying a lot because I had the absolutely worst night ever last night.

Seriously, from the time Melissa left me at the airport things could not have gone worse.

I will start with the obvious- Melissa left me at the airport. See this sucks because that is when I start missing her- the second she is actually gone. (She on the other hand starts missing me about 24 hrs before I leave, meaning that we spend 8 of our 24 hrs doing something together, another 8 hrs sleeping, and another 8 hrs are spent with me trying to get Melissa to stop crying...for all 8 hrs.) Anyways, it never actually hits me that we are going to be apart for an extended period of time until she actually drives off; then things suck.

And last night as soon as that feeling hit, things got worse within ten minutes. See it took about ten minutes for me to get to the point in the security check point line where I could see people walking through the metal detectors. The lines, all two of them, where moving particularly slow and I am not a patient person. I get even less patient when people are acting like complete idiots.

After watching numerous idiots slowing up the line for no good reason, I saw what had to be one the stupidest people I have ever seen in my entire life. I am not exaggerating. Don't believe me? Well, judge for yourself. This is what happened:

This person walks through the metal detectors and the detectors go off. TSA officials tell her to take off her belt and any jewelry. She walks back through, takes off those things and the alarm goes off again. She looks at the machine wondering what exactly it does, then looks bewilderedly at the officials who tell her to step back through. The officials ask her if she has anything in her pockets. Her response, I swear on my life, is "only my keys."

You have got to be kidding me. How freaking stupid does one have to be to think that their keys were not going to set off the alarm? And here is the best part, I have seen janitors with less keys on their key ring than this woman had on her key ring. The worst part, she had kids. I cannot even imagine how stupid those kids are going to turnout. But I tried as I finally got to pass through security.

Walking through security, I thought to myself "surely, things cannot get any worse." Then I got to my plane: a tiny plane that looked like it should be dusting crops. And the person in the seat next to me made Ronald McDonald look like George Clooney and had a personality that made Al Gore seem like the world's best party guest. . .

Alright, that is all I can post for now. BUT tomorrow I will explain how the guy next to me almost got killed after tapping on my laptop and why I am not surprised that Frontier Airlines has not turned a profit in the past 100 years.

Boise Weekend #1

When I was really little I remembered going on these paddle boats...they seemed to go a lot faster when I was 9 years old, but they were definitely worth the $8.

After a very long week of being apart, Dan spent a total of 8 hours on an airplane to spend a little less then two days together. Despite the short time together, we were very very busy.

On Saturday morning we went to get my ring resized because, although I could wear it, I was constantly readjusting it. So apparently when I guessed that I was a size 7, I was actually a size 5 1/2. If only the same thing happened to me when trying on jeans...

So my brother gave me a heads up to the Boise Weekly website, which basically is a listing of all the events going on in Boise. While perusing that, I found this GREAT wine shop downtown that does a wine tasting class every Saturday. This week's class was on Shiraz, and it was even better then expected! The class was packed and we got to taste 7 different wines with a plate of appetizers all hand picked to "enhance the experience of the wine." We got a great background on Shiraz and wine tasting in general. We even picked up some bottles to add to our collection one of which was the last one available. EVER. We are never drinking that one. But the best part, I must say, was the couple sitting to my right. While the women would swirl and spit her wine with great interest, her husband was not so enthused. The second the wine was poured he would pound it and wait with his arms folded for the next glass. When the appetizers came out he ate them all....at once....with one wine, and looked perplexing at the teacher when more did not come out with the next wine. The more I drank, the more entertaining I found this man, and after class I ran into him on the way upstairs where he politely said "how did you like the class?" "Amazing" I responded. "Ya, those wines were delicious." I had to laugh...

After the class we decided the weather was far to amazing to spend inside so we bought a frisbee and went to Julie Davis park. Here are some pictures...

Good thing we didn't bring Toby because dog's are apparently not allowed to relieve themselves in this park. Dan thought this picture meant that you were suppose to clean up after you dog, but I think if that were the case there would have been a much less crude way to get their point across.

I told you it was a beautiful day!

Its that time of year- the Rose Garden- finally in bloom!

That night we went back and watched "Sideways," since it just went with the theme of the whole weekend. This morning Dan made his FAMOUS Greek Breakfast (my favorite), and I begrudgingly dropped him off at the airport. All in all the weekend was amazing, but went way too fast. Two more weeks and Dan makes the journey back- if he can stomach it because he's been calling me and apparently his flights have been particularly turbulent back to Dallas. That's what he gets for leaving me. Harrumph.

How Toby Spends His Day

I am not kidding. This is what I deal with.

Wedding Update

I just wanted to officially announce that Dan and I have decided that instead of kissing at our wedding we will be "fist bumping." Its the new rage.



Also, you might be wondering where Dan has disappeared to on this blog. That would be fair. He is in Dallas, and in his words "I have yet to even turn on my computer." But do not worry, I fully intend on forcing him to blog when he flies in for the weekend.

A Rant

I don't know how I feel about people using blogs to rant about their discontent with the world- but today was just too much to ignore.

First and foremost. There is something seriously wrong with Boise radio. I don't know if they are letting the 13 year old intern pick the songs and play them on repeat- but I kid you not- I heard Kanye West's "Gold Digger" twice today and Mariah Carey's "Touch My Body" three times. I was only in the car for a max of one hour, and I only listen to one pop radio station. This is unacceptable. First, Gold Digger was released in 2005- THREE YEARS AGO. And while I will not contend like the first time I heard it that I did not turn it up, there is absolutely no need to be playing a song released in 2005 twice in one day. And as for "Touch My Body," there is no need to be playing songs with ridiculous lyrics on the radio EITHER. Here is a taste or the lyrical genius that is Mariah's first single:

If there's a camera up in here
Then it's gonna leave with me
When I do (I do)
If there's a camera up in here
Then I'd best not catch this flick
On YouTube (YouTube)
'Cause if you run your mouth and brag
About this secret rendezvous
I will hunt you down
'Cause baby I'm up in my bidness
Like a Wendy interview
But this is private
Between you and I

Second annoying thing, I don't know what it is with little kids and the need to constantly touch my dog, but I swear when I take Toby on walks all I hear is "Can I pet your dog/what kind of dog is that/ my dog at home....(insert lame story)." Why can't a girl just walk her dog in peace??? I have resorted to making Toby seem like a ferocious beast, which I must secretly admit, has led to a sick and twisted level of entertainment.

Punk Kid: Can I pet you dog???
Me: I would let you...but he bites...and the last kid had to go the hospital and get a rabies shot with a foot long needle in his stomach.
(Kid runs away screaming)

Problem solved.

Third, and lastly, I am at the gym trying to enjoy a calming work out after a stressful day at work (and scaring little children in the park), when I decide to turn on the TV and watch Hillary Clinton's concession speech...which turned out to not be a concession speech at all but rather a speech urging her supporters to go to her website and discuss how great she is. I almost fell off my elliptical in rage. I'm not kidding! What nerve of this women to continue to divide the Democratic Party when she clearly has lost the election! If Democratic leaders don't come out and slam her tomorrow I swear I am voting for McCain (okay probably not-primarily because I am concerned he will die of old age two months into office- but I will threaten to.)

I urge all three of you who read this blog to go to HillaryClinton.com and and tell her to concede already!