Showing posts with label Seester. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Seester. Show all posts

Saturday, July 3, 2010

A Letter to Seester

Dear Seester,


I love you. You are my favorite sister, but seriously. I would really rather you not respond to my random inside joke text with a phone call telling me how you're out with all of the people I'd love to be out with but can't because I A) don't live in Wichita Falls anymore and B) don't have to extra fundage to go down there every weekend. I would also appreciate it if you would refrain from telling me the stories reinforcing how you're the dangerous, mysterious, and cool sister. I know you are. It's painful enough just being the boring, straight-laced, un-adventurous one, but you letting me know that the guy who has been my go-to crush on guy since fourth grade said that you're "super f*&^ing hot" was almost over the line of what I can reasonably handle. Even if it doesn't seem like it bothers me or matters, it does; on both counts. I'm not the cool one. I'm okay with it most of the time. I'd like it if you didn't rub it in...


*sigh*



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picture via

Friday, May 21, 2010

For the Horde!

Gah, I'm trying to find a way for this post to get nerdier, but I'm just not coming up with anything.

Seester is, as I type this, upgrading her Mac OS so she can play WoW with me!!!! I am irrationally excited for this. Irrationally... in that only fellow gamers can fully understand the pure, unbridled joy associated with getting someone you know hooked on the game.

Also- big life stuff going on! Good stuff! I'll fill you in, soon, little bloggatribe.

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Thursday, September 10, 2009

In Austin!!

Well....


here I am!



We're in Austin, doing the wedding thing. Man, oh man... this is a total riot. I'll have pictures and whatnot later, but I'm just checkin' in with you guys.


YAY!!

Friday, May 15, 2009

100th Post!!

Wow! I can't believe I've already posted 100 times. Geez.


Well, to celebrate this occasion, I feel I should blog about something that means a lot to me. Something that changed my life forever.


a potato.



Not just any potato, friends. This was a life altering spud of epic proportions. I'm not kidding when I say that for weeks after this potato incident, I couldn't go more than 3 days without mentioning it. People, this tuber consumed my thoughts. It's story time:



Over Thanksgiving, my Li'l Brudder and Seester and I went to southish Texas to see my Dad. Not ON Thanksgiving, but the day before, we went to this small town eatery for lunch. It was some manner of barbecue place and so they obviously had baked potatoes. They had something I had officially never seen before, but I was so intrigued, and it sounded so delicious that I ordered it. (Looking back, I am SO glad I did and yet I also have a healthy {ha, healthy} amount of regret tied to the experience. Mainly because after I ate it, I wanted to die. So much potato... anyway, back to the story.)

The potato I ordered ended up being about the size of a softball and a half. That is not remotely a small potato, or even a medium one. This potato meant business. It had my standard potato trappings of butter, cheese and sour cream, but here's where the magic happened: There was a chicken fried steak on, nay, in this potato. A whole chicken fried steak. On/In this mammoth potato. And white gravy, because you can't eat a chicken fried steak without white gravy.

That's the part that I look upon fondly. The actual potato. Eating the whole thing? I don't exactly look upon that with the same sense of nostalgia and general happiness associated with good food memories. *whew*

Anyway, to you who read this and see my delightful potato as an abomination to food everywhere, I am sad for you. Maybe it's just my general Southern upbringing that makes me particularly susceptible to the wiles of foods of this nature, but either way... that potato affected my life more than some people, and for that, it gets its own commemorative blog post.




And now a picture of a lizard on a chaise lounge (because this is what I found when I was trying to find a graphic of the number 100):




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hahahahahahahaha



Hiliarious. Explanation here.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Disney, why have you forsaken me?

So Meg over at The Wild and Wily Ways of a Brunette Bombshell posted about classic Disney movies and her beef with their decline into pure consumerism. I started to write a comment to her, but then I realized that I basically had just written a post in her comment box, so I came over here and wrote it out instead. This is what I have to say in response:

I could not agree more!!

Not even kidding: I have been slowly amassing all of the best Disney movies, either on VHS or DVD, whatever, for when (when, when {I like to say it three times to reinforce the certainty...ahem...}) I have kids, because I can't be sure if Disney (or anyone) will ever be able to produce films of the same caliber as the animated (and some not animated) films of our childhood and before.

World's longest sentence... anyway, I submit for review some of my favorites that MY children will watch (some Disney, some not):



  • Robin Hood (Animated foxes... yum)

  • The Rescuers, and Rescuers Down Under

  • Prince of Egypt

  • Babe

  • Fern Gully



The above list is, of course, in addition to these mandatory classics:

  • The Little Mermaid

  • Beauty and the Beast

  • Aladdin

  • The Lion King

  • Cinderella

  • Sleeping Beauty

  • Mulan



Yeah, so what if basically the definition of a "Classic" is just that it has a good love story? Sue me. I digress...


Oh, Disney, we're all begging you: return to the days of yore when you had something to say other than "Buy a Hannah Montana doll!" We miss our princes, princesses, love stories, magic carpets, singing foxes, castles, good triumphing over evil, the prince getting his gal, the gal getting her prince, fantastic music with singable soundtracks, fairies...


I could go on...

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Orginal painting found here

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Story Time!

OK, I do not have the energy right now to talk about the competition two days ago (I didn't advance to finals, in case you were wondering, but it's totally alright) so I'm going to tell a story, albeit belatedly, in honor of 4/20. This is the story of the time my sister and I got high.


Ok, those of you that are freaking out can calm down. We didn't do it on purpose, and it was only through examination years later that we decided that was what actually happened.


We were youngish, probably high school. I get this strange cosmotological urge to do a manicure and tell Seester that if she'd let me, I'd do her nails. She's game, so we get a set at Walgreen's or someplace and go in her room (or was it our room? Depends on how young we were) and start playing beauty shop.

The way you used the particular type of acrylic nail set we got was that there was a gel you put on the fingernail, and then poured this powdery stuff on it to "activate" it. I'm pretty sure (read: it was all over the box) that the room was supposed to be well ventilated. I don't remember why we needed to shut her door (loud music, perhaps? Probably so we wouldn't kill the parrot in the living room) but we did and since the whole process was centered around a powder, we couldn't really turn a fan on, either. Basically, we were huffing and had no idea. Some rebels, eh?

I don't remember much about the whole experience except that we were listening to Cake and at one point, the lyrics are "Fawn, Jo and Tootsie are out on a wire" (OH MY GOSH! I never actually knew what the lyrics were there! Ha!) and we, at the time (and me up until about literally five seconds ago), thought it was "Fonzo and Tootsie," which, admittedly, makes no sense. We, at the same time, realized that we had both occasionally gotten mixed up at that part and said "Fonzie" (like Happy Days) but then remembered "Tootso" isn't anything, so that was obviously wrong. We laughed really hard about that, but only after we were done being slightly weirded out that we had been thinking the exact same thing about this goofy song.


Oh, that and we did a trial run of the acrylic stuff on a Sharpie, so for a while this Sharpie in our house had a creepy fingernail on the end of it. We painted it red, which just made it weirder. Damn, I wish I had a photo of that marker. Instead, a photo of weirded out.


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Tuesday, April 14, 2009

The Tale of the Toaster

Confession:

I kind of wish I had named my url something besides "toasterxors" because while it does express (too much, I daresay) my true inner nerd, I feel like something more poetic or cute or generally less ending in "xors" would have been wiser. But, we live with the choices we make, I guess, and it's WAY beyond the point that I could change it now. I would have just used "lifesatoaster" but, inexplicably, someone else already has that one... It's random enough that I want it. It's even weirder than someone already has it. I was not so versed in the ways of blogging to realize that I could just separate with hyphens, but I digress. The "Life's a Toaster." story must be told.


So the saga of the Toaster began as many things do between Seester and myself: as ridiculous and outlandish sarcasm.

My sister Whitney (who will generally be referred to as "Seester") and I were sitting at the dining room table and she was working on her high school graduation announcements. "I need a quote to go on these. What should I use?" she asks me. She is very into quotes, so it wasn't so much that she didn't have a quote, she just couldn't decide what to use. I look at her, and with utmost sincerity, say, "I've got it-

"Life's.... a toaster."


She just looked at me, waiting for the rest of it. Then she asked, "Life's a toaster.... what? Life's a toaster, it's got lots of crumbs... Life's a toaster, it's burned on the edges... what's the rest?" I just tell her, "Nope. That's it. 'Life's a toaster.' End." She didn't end up using it, but the whole thing was endlessly funny to us, and it was added to the already extensive list of inside jokes that no one else gets.

This quote resurfaces about two years later when she is filling out her application to go to school in Oklahoma City. They want her to write an entrance essay about a quote from "a movie, a book or a song that is meaningful to you." Again, we sat across from each other at the dining room table, she asked me,

"What quote should I use for my essay?"
"Life's a toaster."
She laughed, "I totally should. But they said it has to be from a song or book or something."
"I promise you, they don't care what source you get your quote from. They want you to be able to string words together into sentences and say something interesting. You can BS something about how 'Life's a toaster.' came to be and how your relationship with your sister is very meaningful, blah blah."

{pause}

"Say all that slower and let me write it down."

My sister wrote her college entrance essay on the endlessly deep and meaningful quotation "Life's a toaster."


This is getting lengthy, but I can't talk about the toaster quote without mentioning the toaster lamp.

Yes.
Toaster lamp.


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My sister is, and has been for quite some time, very involved in theatrical lighting. That was actually what she was in school for in Oklahoma. One of her classes had an assignment to turn some object into a lamp that isn't supposed to be a lamp, but still looks like what it is supposed to be. She said that lots of people put light bulbs into books and flower pots and things that are pretty easy to wire (whatever that means). Well, as is Seester's tendency, she waited until the night before she was supposed to have parts and pieces to even think about what she was going to lampify. She was literally walking around our apartment poking things and trying to find something that would a) work as a lamp and b) be relatively cheap to replace, since she would be destroying it. She said of the final choice, "Well, it was between the toaster and the coffee maker. The coffee maker was like twenty bucks. The toaster was six. Toaster it is." The pictures are the result of her taking OUR toaster right out of our kitchen and making it into a lamp. With a dimmer.


Sidebar: Seester is a total badass. Always.


So, there it is! The Tale of the Toaster. Doesn't it feel good to be in on the joke? Also, it's so interesting to me which of the seemingly insignificant things I have said sometimes stick around forever!

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Blog Facelift: part deux

As I'm looking at my little space here, I don't think I like the way it looks.


I'm keeping the header, for sure, but be aware, both of you readers, this blog, it is a-changin'.

About that header... maybe I'll tell the story of that later. It is such a fun one, and it involves my Seester, whom I have yet to talk about (how did that even happen?)


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Seester is on the left, that's me on the right.



Later, later. Now, church. Happy Risen Savior Day!