Funny Stuff My Husband Says, Vol. XVIII: Green Giant

Jeremy, while riding the stationary bike that he rides EVERY day:


You know, there's got to be a way to hook this bike up to energy-storing batteries; then I could use the energy I create by riding. 


*goes deeper into thought*


Then I would teach Cleo to run on a treadmill and save all THAT energy. Now THAT'S green.

Funny Stuff My Husband Says, Vol. X: Recurring Utterances

My husband is like the funniest guy on the planet.  So, every once and a while, I salute him.  Like today.  To see all volumes of Funny Stuff My Husband Says, click here.

There are a few things that Jeremy has been saying over and over again lately.  Let me tell you about them ...


Whenever Jeremy tells me about something "bad" MoJo does and I say something like "He didn't mean it" or "He's just a cat," Jeremy then retorts:
"You defend that cat like he split the atom!"


Whenever the cat or dog get too close to Jeremy's legs when he is walking or going up or down the stairs (because he is convinced they are trying to trip him on purpose), he shouts:
"Sabotage!"


Whenever I ask Jeremy to change Josephine's diaper and he gets upstairs to find poop, he yells at me:
"You set me up!"


Apparently, Jeremy ranks the animals in accordance with their behavior ...


Whenever the cat does something Jeremy likes, he turns to Cleo and says:
"Watch out, Cleo, you're slipping to #2."


Whenever the cat does something Jeremy doesn't like, he says:
"See MoJo, this is why you're #2." 

St. Patrick's Day Fail

I had the distinct pleasure of working last night.  Teaching a night class.  On St. Patrick's Day. Meaning, I had to teach college students who would much rather be out drinking AND then drive home with all the people who had hit up one (or more) bars and were heading to another.


Note to the driver I encountered while trying to get home:  Driving THIRTY MILES under the speed limit does NOT make you less conspicuous to law enforcement.  In fact, I'd go as far as saying it makes you MORE conspicuous.  Especially when you are inching along and a string of more than ten cars is stuck behind you, unable to pass.  This is conspicuous.  I promise.


Anyway, on the way home from work, I stopped at Meijer to grab some Guinness for me and Jeremy and a big honking dog bone for Cleo, who just happened to be the birthday dog yesterday.

Awww!

Here's what I learned from that little expedition.  You know how these days if you use your credit or debit cards at grocery stores they collect data about you and print off coupons they think you'd like based on your previous purchases?  Well, usually they are right on.  Last time I got a coupon for baby rice cereal.  Helpful.  I will use that coupon.  Last night, on the other hand, Meijer chose to make two rather bold assumptions about me based on the fact that I was purchasing 4 beers and a dog bone late at night instead of painting the town red on one of the biggest "party days" of the year.


#1.  You are a crazy cat lady.

Okay, so I OWN a cat.  You got me there.  And you figured it out even though I have never purchased cat products at your establishment AND I bought a dog bone.


Yes, some cat people are "crazy."  And I have been described that way.  But if you think you can make me feel bad about not being out drinking on St. Patrick's Day by insinuating that I would rather be home with my cats?  Well ... you'd be somewhat right.  


But assumption #2?  Oh boy.

Burn Meijer.  Big burn.


But, I might consider trying that brand of cat litter.

Well Played, Wee One

Josephine learned a new trick yesterday while eating breakfast. (By the way -- I accidentally tasted her rice cereal the other day [if "accidentally" means realizing you have some on your hand as you're about to get clean laundry out of the dryer and just lick it off so you don't get it on your clean clothes, then yes, it was a total accident] and OMG!  It tastes TERRIBLE!  I can't believe I am feeding my child that crap!  After tasting it, I offered it to the dog, and she refused to eat it.  That dog eats POOP and she won't eat rice cereal.  POOP.  Man, I will be glad when I can feed that poor baby some yummy vegetables.  Okay, tangent over).  She learned that if you take a nice big-girl bite of cereal and wait for your mom to praise you for a good bite, then make a raspberry noise -- ALL of the cereal will go spattering all over your mom.  And the dog.  And the floor.  And, somehow, the ceiling.


Now, that might have been the last time she did it.  You know, tried it out, then experiment over. Here's where I made my fatal mistake.  After she had successfully spit all remnants of cereal from her mouth, she was SO dang proud of herself that she made THIS face:

And she was SO STINKING ADORABLE that ... I laughed.  


DEAR GOD.  So guess what she did?  Yup, she repeated the spit-take ELEVEN TIMES.  And died laughing every time.  I tried to look like she wasn't cute, but I think she saw it in my eyes.  She knew she had made a funny and was so super-cute that she can do just about anything she wants.  I smell trouble in our future.


When I stepped out of the room to put her bowl in the sink, I heard her talking to the dog (who always stands by my side while I feed Josephine, even when she is getting food spit on her).  I swear, by her giggles, laughs, and then howls, I could imagine what she was saying:


"Dude, Cleo, did you see that?  I totally got mom!  Like TWELVE times!  She was like, 'Oh, sweetie, here is a bite of cereal!  I bet you will swallow it like a big girl!' and then I was like, 'Oh, sure mom, just put it in my mouth!' but then I DIDN'T swallow it at all!  I spit it all out instead! Bwahahahahahahaha!!  I am a comic GENIUS!!!!!!"


The best part?  I told Jeremy all about it and then suggested HE feed her dinner.  Guess who she didn't spit on?  Yup.  She was saving it all for mom this morning.  The girl is too smart for words. And, she kinda IS a comic genius.

You Had Me at "Rescue Dogs"

OK Go, the boys who stole my heart with their infamous treadmill video (Go ahead -- say you don't love it too.  I'll call you a liar.) discovered a way to make me love them even more.  Their new video?  OMG.  I "sqeee"ed so much when I heard about it that I thought I wouldn't have any left for when I watched it.  I was wrong.  I had plenty of squeals left in me.


OK Go's new video features ... (wait for it) ... RESCUE DOGS DOING TRICKS!!!!  Get ready for heart-melting amazingness:



They did the video in one take (no cuts or edits!) to highlight the professionalism and awesomeness of the dogs.  They are also using the video to raise money for the ASPCA (*SWOON*).  If you head over to their website, you can buy their video, with all proceeds helping rescue dogs who haven't found their homes yet.


And, okay, maybe my rescue dog can't do tricks like that, but she can sit (about 85% of the times you ask her) ...

Amazing!

AND she helps soothe the baby by giving Josephine her favorite dog toy when she cries.

This actually happened.  For reals.

And my rescue cat?  Well ... he steals the dog's bed and adds a certain level of sass to the household.  Just the way I like it.

If you ever want to bring an animal into your life, consider ADOPTION.  You won't regret it!  In the meantime, watch the video and swoon away.

Attack of the Night Farts

Even though I am always exhausted lately, I have had some trouble sleeping at night because, you know, my body totally hates me and love to see me suffer. (Oh wait -- you probably already know I suffer from insomnia, right?) Because I can't get to sleep until after 1 AM lately, I lay in my bed with my sleeping husband on the left and my sleeping dog on the floor on the right. It's so sad to watch others sleep when you are wide awake. But last night? I faced a deadly DEADLY situation. One that almost took the life of my unborn child.


It was the night farts.


I mean, when I am awake for like five hours after my husband falls asleep, I expect I might encounter a fart or two. Everyone farts in their sleep. EVERYone. If you are reading this and thinking you are exempt, you are a fool about farting. I have done extensive research and am basically a PhD in night farting, so ... trust me.


Okay, so I smelled a Jeremy night fart. No big. I rolled over and thought to myself, Man, I really love this guy if I am cheerfully able to ignore a stinky fart. WAIT, this makes me a GOOD WIFE. No, a GREAT wife. Oh my god, I am the world's best wife.  Well done, Veronica.  Well-freakin'-DONE!


Now, it WAS a fart, so it was a little stinky, but I was holding my own. That is ... until the a new smell wafted over my face. DOG fart. Now that is not a lovely smell.  I sat up, terrified.

Then, as they both continued wafting, wafting, wafting toward me, I realized what was happening. What happens when the fart of an average man combines with that of a canine?  That's right. They combined into one über-fart

Immediately, I covered my nose to keep out the smell. AHHH! Too hard to breathe with my lovely child pressing my lungs into tiny three-inch pockets of air. I sat, wondering what to do, until I realized what I was doing -- allowing the über-fart to ENTER MY BODY, meaning it would travel down the umbilical cord to my tiny, innocent baby!!!! NOOOOOOOOOO!

I covered my mouth as well before I realized that meant NO breathing at all. That is also not beneficial for a baby in utereo (or so I've heard).  

I began frantically trying to scramble toward the end of the bed to escape, but my massive child hanging off the front of my body makes it highly impossible to "scramble" anymore. Or dash. Or do anything quickly. Especially get out of bed. I began clawing at the foot of the bed, trying to use handfuls of comforter to pull my way to freedom.

Five minutes later I was still struggling like a turtle on its back, so I gave up, collapsed on the foot of the bed and cried a little about my baby swimming around in fart-laced amniotic fluid.  

It was a sad night: the night of the attack of the night farts, the night I realized my child is in constant danger that I hadn't planned for or previously worried about.

And if the baby comes out smelling like fart? The world knows who to blame (hint: NOT ME).

*UPDATED* My One and Only Desire (Other Than the Thing I Forgot About)

My birthday is coming up (*applause*) and I must truly be getting old, because I could only think of one thing I really wanted for myself, and then was just hoping for baby stuff in general.  I think this fact alone makes me an old woman, but get this: then I FORGOT what I wanted.

I mean, I was so proud of myself.  I was all, "OHMYGOD, I want this item so badly and I was so smart to think to ask for it and even smarter to only ask for that ONE thing because then SOMEONE is pretty much guaranteed to buy it for me!  It is perfect and I will love it and cherish it forever!" 

Now?  I seriously have no recollection of what this perfect and needed item must be.  But don't you DARE say that means I didn't really need or want it.  It only means that my brain cells are slowly dying with age and baby-making.  Big difference.

Thankfully, I thought of a replacement singular birthday wish.  It was on my Christmas list, and no one got it for me, so it seems like the same thing might happen if I ask for it for my birthday, but at this point, my feeble brain is willing to take the risk.

Drumroll ...

TA-DA!  A doggy DNA test!!!  What could be better?

The answer: nothing.

Anyone who has a mixed breed, especially a shelter dog, has probably wished this existed at some point in their lives.  Jeremy and I actually sit around and have long conversations about what our black Lab is mixed with.  We even do research and compare breed standards and pictures!  It is a general waste of time because we have no answers.  And I would love to know what she is mixed with so I can know what diseases and problems to help prevent and be aware of.  Prevention in bigger breeds is key, and I have no idea what I am preventing.

Also, I think it would be awesome to set up a little Maury scenario at our house ... "Cleo ... the Chow is NOT your father!"  I think she would really enjoy the suspense.  I know Jeremy and I would.


UPDATE:  This is why it pays to have your mom read your blog, and for that mom to not have been scared away by all the swears and meanness:

 Arlene said...

Happy birthday...I ordered it to be sent to your address!

April 14, 2010 2:26 PM

Super-Happy Time

Guess what, bitches?  Today was the last day of the quarter, and I ALREADY SUBMITTED MY GRADES!  That means two weeks off and none of that time will be wasted grading!  Booo-yah!!  Do people still say that?  Oh well, irrelevant.  Because I just said it.  And I feel a tremendous BOO-YAH throughout my whole body, like, in my BONES!

And it is St. Patrick's Day, so bring on the green ... oh wait.  Cupcakes?  I feel like I am totally breaking some law by not drinking green beer today.  So much sads.

It is also ... wait for it ... MY DOG'S BIRTHDAY!!  Can you believe it?  She is three years old, and today marks the one-year anniversary of the day we saved her from the shelter.

Look at how cute she is!!

And, for your last piece of awesome:  Me in my work clothes. 

Yep, this is me busting out of my normal people clothes.  I realize now that I look a lot more "busting out" with my hands on my hips like that.  Note to self.  Also?  The dress code that is supposed to create a professional atmosphere in the workplace?  Doesn't work out so well when you are a giant moose and waddle like a penguin.  Are you imagining a moose-penguin right now?  Good.

As soon as I get out of this place I am going to CELEBRATE!  I may be stuck in a building all day that doesn't have any windows you can open, but I am determined to enjoy the weather and maybe go out to dinner with my honey.

Touche, Canine

I have the best dog in the world.  I know some other dog owners right now are scoffing at me and shouting at the computer, "NO!  MY dog is the best dog in the world!"  


Well, guess what?  You're wrong.


My dog is the sweetest, most polite, docile dog.  She is also very in tune with us.  If we are just chillaxing, she just chillaxes with us. If we want her to run around and entertain us, she does so, and then as soon as we are done, she is calm and done.  When I'm crying, she's there to snuggle me and look me in the eye, asking me if I am okay.  If I'm sick, she sticks to me like glue, and is my little nurse dog.  She is amazing.


We see a lot of this:

And this:

And this:

And just last night I was telling Jeremy how chill she is.  


But I was wrong.  Things changed this morning.  Now, I think my dog ... thinks I am lame.


It all started when I noticed her face looked different.  Like, maybe she was bored.  But that was silly, so I put it out of my mind.


But then instead of chilling by my feet, she started looking up at me expectantly, like this:

And I was like, "What? I'm not lame.  ... I'm NOT!"  So I had this awesome plan to make a huge list of all the reasons I am NOT lame. But I had some struggles.  Instead, I decided to take her outside to our snow apocalypse in the back yard so she could bound around and play.  Would a lame person do that?  I think not.

She had a ball.  The pictures are really bad, but I have a hard time keeping up with her.  She loves snow so much!

Totally not lame.


But then after we came in, she just stood there, like, "ummmm ... was that it?  What next?"

And I was like, "Exsqueeze me dog?  We just spent twenty minutes running in snow drifts.  You get two walks a day, play time, snuggle time, and grooming time, not to mention the HOURS I spend telling you you are a pretty dog and an angel dog and pretty pretty princess.  And now you are calling me lame?"

So, I wrote this, and she got sick of waiting for me to entertain her and is sleeping on the floor again.  If this keeps up, I have no idea how to be a more exciting dog owner.


UPDATE:  Okay, I just figured out why this was bothering me:  If I can't properly entertain a DOG, how will I entertain a CHILD???  

I'm Onto You, Rat-Man

Does this ever happen to you?  You're living life, holding on to your firm beliefs, when all of a sudden, BAM, someone swoops in and tries to make you not hate them, even though you totally hate them and have never had any intention of not hating them but now you are left wondering what you are supposed to DO with this new information?

Let me back up.

If you are not from the frozen tundra Michigan area and/or are not interested in the NBA (Guess which one is true about me.  Come on.  I bet you can do it. Refer here if you want a clue.), you may be unfamiliar with the cast of characters involved in this little story, so I will introduce you.

Gross weirdo #1: Rip Hamilton

{source}

*SHUDDER*  Oh Rip, you are so gross.  And you wear that damn face mask ALL the time.  

Jeremy gets mad and tells me he only wears the mask so he doesn't break his nose, and I can respect the fact that he is wearing a product that was made for the general public and was not custom-made for his creepy ass, but seriously. Nobody else wears those things 24-7 like he does.

He is so worried about his precious nose breaking that he wears it AFTER the game during his locker room interviews?  He wears it during warm up with his own teammates, who are mostly showing off for the cameras and have no intention of breaking his nose?  He wears it when goes grocery shopping at Meijer?  Okay, I may have made that last part up, but I can totally see it, and I wouldn't put it past him.

Does this thing not look creepy to anyone else?  A little like THIS?

{source}

And that is bad, because it makes me think of THIS scene:

{source}

And that makes me feel all vomit-y and molested, so let's move on.

My hatred for this guy seems to really be wrapped up in his face mask, but I promise you, it is so much more.  He is scrawny, uppity, and when you look in his eyes, you can see nothing but meanness, and in my book, those are enough reasons to receive my hated.

Okay, so there was only one character, which doesn't really constitute a cast of characters, but I like that phrase and it sounded good when I said it up there.

The bottom line is, I hate Rip Hamilton.  Whenever I look up accidentally during a basketball game (because I try not to do it on purpose), I hope I won't see that little rat-man, and if I do see him, I tell Jeremy to get him off the screen or I will scream.

He used to try and reason with me when I said things like this, but now he doesn't.  I think he really enjoys those little moments we share.  I know I do.

Once again, still hating Rip Hamilton.  UNTIL ... I hear someone with an annoying voice talking about how anyone who wants a little cat or dog friend should consider rescuing it from a shelter.  I melted, even though it sounded like the person was an assbutt.  Without looking up from what I was doing, I was agreeing with the person, saying (possibly out loud) "Yeah, everyone wants a perfect puppy or kitten from a breeder or pet shop, but what about all those wonderful animals out there who also need to be rescued?!  And my animals are from shelters, and they are the best animals EVER!!!!  And ..."  Then I saw who I was talking to.

Yup.  Rip freakin' Hamilton.

Confronted with information that was obviously intended to trick me into not hating Rip, I began some serious research.  By this, I mean I rewound the commercial and watched it over and over, pointing out flaws in his evil plot to Cleo and MoJo, the aforementioned perfect animals. These flaws include, but are not limited to:

1. Rip does not LOOK sincere during this commercial.  He looks slack-jawed and uninterested, and yet also manages to look cocky. 
2. Rip's eyes CLEARLY move in a cue-card-reading fashion.  Why would you need to read cue cards for a two-sentence commercial for something you BELIEVE in.  Answer:  You wouldn't.
3. Rip does not SOUND sincere during this commercial.  Rip sounds uninterested and cocky.  And also like he is reading from cue cards. Which is lame.  Sarah McLaughlin does not look or sound uninterested or read from cue cards during HER animal commercials.

Case closed.  I still hate Rip Hamilton, and now I am more aware of people trying to trick me into not hating people I hate.

Please, learn a lesson from this tragic event.  Be aware.  Be ever vigilant. Maintain your hatreds.

This Is When I Realized My Insomnia May Have Affected My Precarious Sanity

When is too much too much?

Ah, yes.  When you start pointing your camera in the general direction of your pets in pitch-black bedrooms in the middle of the night and then collapse into fits of laughter when you see how the pictures turned out.  Or maybe it was already too much when I walked into the bedroom and thought they were SOO cute that I should run downstairs, get the camera, get upstairs, realize I left the memory card in the computer, run back downstairs for the memory card, put it into the camera and run BACK upstairs, all the while hoping the animal didn't move and ruin my fun.

In my defense, Cleo was laying on the body pillow my mom sent me ....

Who WOULDN'T want a photo of that?!?

And, my sweet little MoJo poses a lot, and you can't tell me he doesn't look precious when he crosses his little paws!

(That lump under his paws is my husband's leg.)

After taking this senior picture-esque shot of the cat, I may or may not have been laughing so hard I snorted.  I told him I wanted to try to get just one more shot (Like, spoke to him.  Out loud.  Inches from my sleeping husband.) ...

... and it finally hit me when he gave me this "what is your deal, lady?" look.  I have gone over the edge.  

Even more terrifying is the fact that I realized anthropomorphizing my pets is all well and good (it's like my favorite thing ever), but when their imagined emotions lead me to major realizations ... 

Time to wake up Jeremy and force him to help me fall asleep. 

*             *             *              *              *

UPDATE (2:32 AM):  So guess what?  I woke up Jeremy and told him I needed help falling asleep.  But I am still awake.  Here is what transpired: 


Veronica:  Umm, Jeremy.  Wake up.  If you love me, you will help me fall asleep.
Jeremy:  Are you serious?
V:  Dead serious.  I need to get up in a few hours so I can go to an all-day meeting, so let's get crackin'.  Put me to sleep.
J:  I can't just "put you to sleep."  You are in charge of your body.
V:  But if you loved me, you would rub my back and soothe me and sit up and wait until I fall asleep.
J:  Remember how I rubbed your back from 10:00 to 11:30?
V:  That was then.  This is now.  If you LOVED ME, you would help me more.
J:  You can't keep saying that.  
V:  But it's true.  If you loved me, you wouldn't be able to fall asleep until you knew I was safely asleep.
J:  Veronica ... I love you, but right now I don't like you very much.
V:  My mom used to say that to me a lot.
J:  Well ... [rolls over and goes back to sleep]

*             *             *              *              *

UPDATE #2 (2:55 AM):  I guess I really didn't learn anything at all.


MoJo came waltzing over to me, purring, wearing his tail in his infamous "Question Mark" style, and I immediately reached for the camera.  I have NEVER been able to get a picture of that tail!  Tonight's the night!!


BAM!:

Isn't it majestic??  And yes, that IS Michael Scott who is being framed by my cat's tail.  Season 5: Prince Family Paper.

But seriously, maybe I should wake Jeremy up again.

*             *             *              *              *

UPDATE #3 (8:25 AM):  I'm feeling a little guilty.  Jeremy just left for work -- 45 minutes late -- because he hit the snooze too many times.  Which MIGHT be a direct result of me waking him up constantly and crying in his face.


At about 4:30, he woke up and said very nice things to me and tried to rub my back and stay awake.  And this was while I had been plotting evil things to get him to wake up and like me enough again to help soothe me to sleep.


I think he loves me AND likes me!  At least he will until he reads this.

Best of 2009 Challenge

Since there are only a few days left of 2009, I figured I should get on the ball and finally start the Best of 2009 challenge. 

Night out
The greatest night of 2009 technically started in 2008 but rocked late into the first day of 2009.  Is that cheating?  Wait.  Never mind.  I don't care, because no night could have topped this night:


My Wedding.


I know.  Swoon.


As some of you may know, I got married on December 31st, 2008, and the reception raged late into the new year.  It was a night filled with my favorite people, lots of dancing, and so many memories that I know I will never ever forget.

Moment of peace
This one is simple:  My honeymoon in Nuevo Vallarta, Mexico.  Oh.  My.  God. An amazing week in the sun at an all-inclusive resort.


THIS was the view from our balcony:

Yeah, our balcony with a BED on it!:

There were multiple pools that were only a few feet from the ocean ...

... and, of course, lovely swim up bars ...

... where we were got special "honeymooner" drinks in addition to all our other free drinks!

Yeah, and a waiter or waitress was assigned to you all day, and they would bring you anything you wanted, no matter where you were:

We had free 24-hour room service ...

... and they made us sweet desserts like these:

I wish we could have stayed forever.

Blog Find of the Year
Since I only started blogging this year, all of my finds are ones I lived without until this year, but I have found some real beauties.  I love Pilgrim Congress for her drawings in Paint and Jesus jokes, Live It, LOVE It for her general hilariousness and TMI Thursday, and Ex Hot Girl for her inspiration.

However, if you have read my blog in the last week, you know who my fave is: Hyperbole and a Half.  Imagine David Sedaris and Augusten Burroughs.  Now make it a straight girl (not that there's anything wrong with that!) who did not have such a devastating childhood.  Add lots of long sentences and an out-of-control imagination and use of sarcasm, and you have Allie.  Go check her out!

Book of the Year
David Sedaris' newest, When You Are Engulfed In Flames, rose to the top of my list.  

If you are a Sedaris fan and haven't read this book yet, go buy it!


Album of the year
Well, since I am a LAME-O, I will leave this one to my husband.


He reports: "I have co-winners ...

Arctic Monkeys, Humbug

and Them Crooked Vultures, Them Crooked Vultures

TV show of the Year
The Office is definitely the one show I cannot live without.

Honorable mentions:  It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Hoarders, and 30 Rock

Film of the Year
Simple.  Inglourious Basterds.  

A-maz-ing.  So wonderful, interesting, funny, sad, moving, and inspiring.


Honorable mention:  The Hangover.  HI-larious.


Best change made to the place I live
We have not been able to make many changes to our home this year since we are renting, but we did make two purchases that really changed the look of our whole living room:

This TV stand makes us feel very "adult."


However, hands down, the best "new addition" to our home was our little sweetheart, Cleo.

She brings us so much love and joy every day, and she is such an important part of the family.


At first, MoJo wasn't too keen with the changes made to the family structure, but they are now buddies.

Or, they coexist somewhat peacefully.  Whatever.


Challenge. 
Well, that would have to be my job.  To make a long story short (which I am not so good at -- have you READ this blog?), I was handed a lot more than I signed up for this quarter.  I was happy (kind of) to step up and help when I was really needed, but it certainly made for a long and soul-crushing few months.  The positives were that I tested my strength, I made it out alive, and because I had to go "above and beyond" my contract last quarter, I will get a break in my schedule next quarter but still get the same paycheck.  Say what?!?  I am looking forward to that.  Big time.

The best place. 

Please allow me to be schmoopy and dorky.  Oh, wait, you can't stop me! Muahahaha!

Anyway, my favorite place is laying on my husband's lap on our big red couch.  

I had a million other possibilities, ones that made me sound more interesting, hardworking, driven, or artistic, but they were all lies.  My favorite place is being curled up, safe, and relaxed with the husband.

Word or phrase. “2009 was _____.”

Evolution.  I moved up at work, it was the first year of my marriage, and we got a dog.  Things were certainly happening this year, and I feel that it was a very natural evolution into my more "adult" life.

Resolution you wish you’d stuck with.

Well, duh.  I wanted to lose eighty trillion pounds, and eat much healthier, remember to take my vitamins every day, and exercise five days a week.  EPIC FAIL.

However, I think I have set some more realistic health goals for this year, and I am going to have a little checklist on my fridge so I can remember to accomplish them every day.  Here's what I have so far:

1. Eat one salad a day
2. Take a multi-vitamin, Calcium, vitamin D, and vitamin C every day
3. Include a healthy lean protein in my lunch
4. Have two small snacks during the day to make me less hungry during meal times
5. Eat at least 5 servings of fruit and veggies in a variety of colors
6. If I don't do structured exercise, I have to walk Cleo for 40 minutes

Okay, so I didn't answer all 31 questions, but these are the ones that really apply to me and I will want to look back on 10 years from now.  

So, what are YOUR bests of 2009?