Silly Stuff

Once, when Mike and I were on a family vacation--all 17 or so of us on my mom's side--in Florida, we were lounging around in our suite watching the TV a bit. (Although most of the time we were on the beach, after a while the sun started to go to our heads...just disclaimer-ing because I am not a huge television advocate. Moving on...) Saturday Night Live, or SNL for those with a penchant for such comedy, was on the tube and a particular skit that will live on for infamy in our household came on the screen. The spoof was a sort of romance/soap opera/lifelong tribute to couples who've been together forever, and I'll probably butcher the details, but here goes.

The bride and groom in the sketch were at the piano, singing a *terrible* version of a love song for each other. My understanding is that the scene at the piano was the present-day. Highly dramatic, pausing at all the right places, with grand flourishes of the hands and ridiculous facial expressions, they professed their perfect ardor for the other spouse of many years. Then, clips of them singing and performing together at various musical venues through the years ensued. Every time, the flashbacks showed them singing this same particular song. Might I enforce the fact that it was off-key and comprised of awfully dumb lyrics, too? So...I think you have the picture. Well, at some point the man reenacts meeting his wife, and this is somewhat how it went...

Man (singing in an off-tune vibratto with large hand gestures): All of my life...I was looking for love...it felt like I...it felt like I...
Woman (interjecting in an equally off-tune vibratto as she leans toward her husband): ...didn't have any pants!
Man (with an utter look of bliss and surprise): Yes! Like I didn't have any pants! (Singing again) But when I met you, (pointing toward his wife) all of that changed! When you walked in the room, you took my breath away...and then I thought...in walked my pants!
Together: You are my pants! You are my pants! Tralalala.........

Oh, it was the worst. And the best. Michael and I, strange humor that we share, thought it was hilarious!! Lately, the "you are my pants" phrase has reentered our home as we pass it back and forth freely to express our own undying love for one another.

Speaking of pants! One Valentine's Day, I purchased some way cool Pillsbury Dough Boy pants for my husband. He wears them all of the time. Sadly, I was backed up on the laundry (a laundrathon has been my life as of late) and so Hubby decided to wear these PDB pants 4 nights in a row. Yes, I did say FOUR NIGHTS IN A ROW!! Yuck!! I have to say, they were basically so fresh that they walked to the laundry hamper for him. After 2 nights, I couldn't take the madness anymore and told him that there were other clean lounge pants in the house for him. He wouldn't have it, though, and Shiloh and I had to endure the stench for another 2 nights. Poor Shiloh. She probably has no idea why the house smelled so badly for a few days, and it wasn't even her diaper this time!

I will not be adding a picture of the pants later because they are still in the dryer.

Michael also wears shirts with holes in the armpits OUT TO NICE PLACES. He's like, "No one will notice." Well, I do! I let him know it is quite an "armpity" (get it?) for him to don the outlandish clothing he does at times. However, he has been called a Pretty Boy before, which is a story that I must share!

Before I found out that I was pregnant with Shiloh, I was a member of an entertainment workforce. At its core, this company appealed to starstruck wannabes to burst onto the big screen or, even, the small screen. Well, I thought it would just be fun to join and could lead to potentially more long-term work that I would enjoy (like commercials, or other extra work.) I like people, I like movies, etc. etc. Well, this membership allowed me to exclusively receive info on when and where gigs would be, all over the United States, so that I could pick and choose my gigs.



The only one I ever did was a Jon McLaughlin music video shoot. I convinced Michael it would be fun and so off we went! We were instructed to dress in our "dance club" attire (which we don't EVER go to, so it was interesting to pick what to wear) and show up at a bar near downtown at a certain time. The music video clips we were going to film were supposed to be like we were at one of his concerts. It was a bear to find parking. Just kidding; we parked right in front of the place. Extras that we were, we waited in clusters outside the bar for Jon to show up so we could get started. Filling out paperwork and meeting starry-eyed extras gave us something to do. Tick, tock. Hours later, Jon showed up and we all got to work. Michael was chosen to go inside first, along with a few other "special" extras, so I waited outside even longer! We later found out that he was picked to go up front for the fake concert because "the director could tell he was a pretty boy." We lost it after we learned of this point of view! I had told him what to wear because he had not a clue! And plus, now you know of his sometimes eather silly other clothing choices! Oh, it was richly funny. What a night. We had to keep clapping and yelling and woo-hooing as Jon played the same part of the chorus over...and over...and over again. It was crazy!

Michael came downstairs a few minutes ago. He currently has a nose infection. Really, he's had it off and on for 4 years, but it's back again and he has finally decided to attack it. I bought him some oregano oil (learned something new) at a natural food and herbal shop, so he's been using that to kill it. I say, get that bad dude off your nose! And that stuff is potent. With every word he spoke to me when he was downstairs here it was like he was breathing oregano fire in my face. Whoo.