Thursday, March 31, 2011

Monkey, monkey, underpants

A few Saturdays ago, I proctored the SAT. Let me tell you, it's really not exciting watching kids take a test for four hours. So I remembered when Kara did this train of thought exercise thing, which went a little like this:

"Knock knife knee know Vikings. Helmet. Head. Armor. Chainmail. Spear. Suckling pig. Boat. T Payne. SNL skits. Sarah Palin. Elections. Obama. White house. Green fountain. St. Patrick’s day. Washington D.C.. Orchestra. Viola. Thomas Tallis. Fantasia. Walt Disney. Sleeping Beauty. Tchaikowsky. Russia. Crime and Punishment. Raskolnikov. Mental illness. Shostakovitch. Suicide note. Dissonance. Goosebumps. Nickleodeon. Slime. Green. Easter. Eggs. Bunnies. Viagra. Creepy old men. 30 year age difference. Gold diggers. Breast augmentation. Victoria’s Secret. Lip gloss. Sticky. Gum. Peanut butter. Resse’s. scientist. Archaelogist. Indiana Jones. Crystal skull. Shia Labeouf. Eagle Eye. GPS lady. Britain. London. Buckingham Palace. Bear skin hats. Lodges. Cabins. Ski trips. Snow. Utah. Mormons. College. Leaving. Suitcase. Baggage claim. Conveyor belts. 102 Dalmations. Cake. Chocolate. Frosting. Sprinkles. The Office. NBC. “That’s what she said.” Nathan Keefer. “What an idiot.” Leo. 6.0 GPA. Top 1%- scholarships. Broadcasting journalism. Fox news. Republican. Conservative. Liberal sister. Global warming. 70’s “ice age!” mom. Dad. JFK. Dallas. Lakehouse. Grandma’s house. Green pool. Turtles. Frogs. Miniatures. Bears. Candy. Rollos. Liquer cabinet. Green Menthe. Wicked. Broadway. Spamalot. “I’m not dead yet.” Jenny Grundberg. Funerals. Flowers. New Years Eve. Sparklers. Dances. Jeffrey. Flappers. Mobsters. Johnny Gun’s. Chicago."

Which then lead me to Lorelai's rambling, and I know we don't generally post the whole reference of the entry title, cause, I mean, if you don't get the reference, you're obviously not cool enough to get the reference, but it was just too good. I couldn't not share it. So, here we go:

"My brain is a wild jungle full of scary gibberish. I'm writing a letter, I can't write a letter, why can't I write a letter? I'm wearing a green dress, I wish I was wearing my blue dress, my blue dress is at the cleaners. The Germans wore gray, you wore blue, 'Casablanca' is such a good movie. Casablanca, the White House, Bush. Why don't I drive a hybrid car? I should really drive a hybrid car. I should really take my bicycle to work. Bicycle, unicycle, unitard. Hockey puck, rattlesnake, monkey, monkey, underpants."

And all of this is to lead up to what my squishy brain came up with:

SAT, college, relief, real world, suckage, grad school, GRE, math, algebra, Danica McKellar, The Wonder Years, The Princess Bride, Anybody want a peanut, Charlie Brown, Snoopy and Woodstock, Kelly Kapour, The Office, hilarity, misadventures in driving, escaping from a mormon dance out a window, boy moose, Anne Hathaway, Jake Gylenhaal, Taylor Swift, seriously? Grey's Anatomy, addiction, Gilmore Girls, Lauren Graham, my kind of crackhead, crack is whack, whatever happened to Whitney Houston?, Houston, crazy New Yorkers (House-ton), Empire State Building, King Kong was here, silly little sister, BYU, college democrats, Barack is my home boy, may have to change my political affiliations after seeing someone from my home ward at the BYU democrats table, can't vote for Palin, Halloween, Pac Man, Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World, bread makes you fat, Kara's dream where butter had no calories, Paula Dean, Miss Piggy, so excited for the next Muppet movie, crap, gotta focus on these kids taking the SAT.

My brain may not have come up with "monkey monkey underpants", but I think it was pretty entertaining anyway.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

The world's largest pizza. Almost.

Happy birthday, Lauren Graham. Without you, we would probably say "It's about me," a lot less.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

A euphemism for "I'm ordering a pizza."

This weekend was filled with things that sounded like euphemisms for dirty things, but were not. People actually meant all the things they were saying.

On Friday night, Chris and I went to the Chocolate Maven for dinner. It's the best bakery in Santa Fe. The dinner was ok, but any kind of dessert you get there is amazing, and their bread is fantastic. Their dining room is tiny, and one whole wall is made of floor-to-ceiling windows that look into their giant bakery. I liked watching the giant mixers, like this one. But towards the end of the night, when were trying to decide if we should order dessert, or just get cupcakes or something to take home, this guy came over to the table and started unwrapping block after block of butter. Then our waitress came over and said something we did not expect.

Waitress: Are you guys going to stay and watch him pound the butter?

Us: Um... what?

Apparently at the end of the night, the bakers unwrap about sixty pounds of butter and smash it with this thing that looks kinda like a cross between a rolling pin and a baseball bat. I'm not sure what this accomplishes, but it sounded awesome. Sadly, we were the last people there, and there really wasn't any reason for us to stick around anymore, so we did not get to see him pound the butter.

Then the next night, on Saturday, two of my friends, Tamara and Scott, had their birthday party. They're a boyfriend and girlfriend, and their birthdays are one day (and five years) apart. Isn't that cute? So we all got together. They made lasagna, and garlic bread, and chili. And then for dessert, because apparently Scott's not a big cake guy, we had pie. There was apple and chocolate silk. And Scott made cinnamon ice cream to go with it, but he had tried out the ice cream maker before, and it came out to a pretty custardy texture. So after we finished dinner, Scott stood up and said, "Well, gotta go make the custard."

And every time he said it, someone pointed out how dirty it sounded. All night long.

I hope you enjoyed your weekend, too.