Holiday in Handcuffs

I’ve been trying to find pictures of Ry as a baby to compare with Nicholas as a baby. These are all of the early days, I haven’t looked for any recent ones to compare yet. And it’s hard, most of my baby pics of Ry are on DVDs or a hard drive not connected to a computer, and I’m way too lazy to actually retrieve them. So it’s just kind of whatever I canfind online or roaming around on my computer somewhere.

also, I need a better camera. I always need a better camera. That’s my excuse. Not my skills at taking pictures, but my equipment.

ryland and his cousin tyler

nicholas and his brother ryland


ryland, day 7

nicholas, day 7


ryland asleep on boppy

nick asleep on pillow


one of my fave pics of ryland ever

eh, this pic of nicholas is okay.

12 Men of Christmas

Luke Wilson not fat.

Luke Wilson before AT&T. Not fat.

Luke Wilson fat

Luke Wilson after AT&T. Conclusion: AT&T makes you fat.

Luke Wilson’s looking awfully pudgy and pasty in these new AT&T commercials he’s shilling for, and my question is: why aren’t people harassing him all over the streets and fields for his weight gain? If he was a lady, he’d be skewered. this world is a lousy schmuck.

I’ve really been enjoying words with “k” in them. The k is so underrated.

In other entertainment news, it’s just been announced: the Black Eyed Peas are performing at the grand opening celebration of Panera Bread in Raynham, MA, followed by a performance at The Silver Side Galleria in Taunton, and then capping the night with an appearance at Rebecca Finkelstein’s bat mitzvah in Mansfield.

Those guys are sure busy!

The Dog Who Saved Christmas

Dogs and Christmas go hand in hand, according to lame holiday moviemakers.

If I died between now and Monday, I wouldn’t have to go back to work. hmmm.

I don’t want to die though.

If I made it LOOK like I died between now and Monday, I wouldn’t have to go back to work. hmmm.

Lately I’ve been wondering what the police and CSI folks would say about me if I fell victim to a serial killer. What would the doctor say about me in the autopsy? what sort of conclusions would they make about my personality based on the contents of my stomach and my handbag? Would they look at my DVR list and the music on my computer and the books on my shelves and my netflix queue and my magazine subscriptions and deduce that I’m really very awesome? I think if you’re going to die in some horrible way, a serial killer would be the way to go. At least then you’d be a part of something bigger. A random murder? An accidental murder? an act of passion? LAME. I want intrigue, mystery, excitement, craziness.

I wonder what souvenir the serial killer would take from my murder scene. If it happened at home, I’ve got a lot of cool things he could take. I’m not being sexist. ladies very rarely are serial killers. He could take a million different things. I just wonder so much what it would be.

Maybe I’ve been watching too much CSI lately. It’s our thing, G and I. It makes us feel good. and since we’re both home together right now, due to the economy and my maternity leave, that’s what we’ve been doing–watching lots of CSI. instead of you know connecting or making love or something along those dull lines.

You know who I hate? people who hate TV. I just hate those people. or even worse, people who say “Oh I don’t own a television” or “I don’t really watch much television” or “my family didn’t have a television when I was growing up; I am so glad we didn’t cause look how smart and fruity I am now.” And these horrible awful people who I hate, they never say TV. no they always say the entire word, television, like it means something.

instead of going to bed, I stayed up to get some work done and now that it’s 2:30am and I’m really tired and ready to sleep, the rotten baby has decided to wake up.

and this puts an end to another scintillating loafe.