a mac is not a real apple.

You can’t pick raspberries and be online at the same time.


You also can’t pick apples while updating your facebook status.


You can’t choose out Indiana tomatoes the size of pumpkins while tweeting from an iPhone.


And you definitely can’t feel up a giant peach with a laptop in your hands.


There was no wi-fi where I spent the day.

But there was one of these. And these are always better than the Internet.


Good job Indiana, keep it up.


In other news, could you please go give VDog a little support? It involves pregnancy and needs to involve the support of the Internets. (Or your liquor cabinet. Or the candy aisle. She’s easy like that.)

polly with a bun in her pocket.

Who wants to take this one?

I for one know there is not a Peter Pocket, let alone have Peter and Polly become Mr. & Mrs. Pocket.

And yet I come downstairs to this…

pregnant polly 2.0 pregnant polly


Anybody else have toys making nookie on the side?

Maybe it’s my house, remember when that floozy Snow White got a little fresh with the Autobots?

(aww archives!)

our. first. house. (an update.)

Many of you have asked about our! first! house! that I posted about almost three months ago.

You know? The one with peach and pastel aquamarine paint downstairs and bright red and bright teal paint upstairs?

Sound familiar?

Well. The house will still be occupied by us, someday. We’re doing a rehabilitation loan since the house is in need of some serious love and care. And coats and coats of paint.


Anyway these rehabilitation loans were pretty much planned out by the same people who planned DMVs (out here they’re called BMVs. As in Bureau of Motor Vehicles. And yes, I giggle every time I say BMV.) If not the DMV people then surely someone with a vested interest in psych wards or ulcer care because we are both about thisclose to one or the other.

Some loan person down in Texas has every bit of information about Cody’s and my existence on the planet short of a blood sample and what color our eyes are (hint, six eyeballs that live in this house are blue.) At this point we are pretty much at their mercy, whoever said “Don’t Mess With Texas” seriously meant it.

Did I mention the busted pipe in the ceiling that flooded the kitchen when we had the water turned on for an inspection?

I didn’t?

What about the carpenter ants that were eating the inside of every wall downstairs?

I left them out too?

How about the fact that one person in this whole process who shall not be named is quite possibly the only human on this planet I have ever come close to maiming with a blunt object?

I know I told you that when they sent over our original paperwork they had our loan set at $190K instead of $108K. (see previous sentence.)

Did I tell you that the moosh has a crush on our contractor? That she thinks he’s “really handsome and kind of dreamy?”

Speaking of dreamy, did I mention the intensely dreamy bamboo floors we’re going to have installed?

Or the fact that we have to pay $375 every 14 days to keep our application open? (Again, refer back to previous statement about blunt maiming.)

Our real estate agent is still my friend on facebook because she has seen me do the ugly cry. More than once.

So yes. We will still be moving. Eventually. Into the house that we originally picked out.

And when all is said and done?

IT WILL BE GLORIOUS. And hopefully all people involved in the process will still be alive and intact.

Because right now it’s really not looking good for that person over there.


It’s no secret that I don’t love facebook, but given what I do it’s a necessary evil. I consider facebook my Internet equivalent of a nasty rush hour commute. It has to be done if you want to keep your “job.”

I think it’s messy. And yet it’s kind of the best way to keep in contact with the people in my life who don’t blog or who don’t want to come to my blog and risk seeing pictures of my internal organs.

Also it just felt strange when my Grandma in Law who is older than a lot of things on this planet showed up in my friends list right next to Tanis. Something just felt off about that.

So last night I performed a facebook intervention. I kept the people I’m related to, the ones who knew me before Cody, the ones who were at my wedding and the ones who have seen me do the ugly cry. If I hurt anyone’s feelings I’m sorry, it’s nothing personal. Truth be told I was never on facebook much, every time I clicked over there it was “GROW CORN!” “MAFIA WARS!” “SARAH SENT YOU A DRINK!” (and truthfully if “Sarah” was really my friend? She’d know not to send me dirty martinis, same goes for you “Jenny,” if you really knew me? You wouldn’t send me growing gifts. Truthfully I’m the only person I know who can kill virtual plant life.)

The poking, the quizzes, the likeness, the so and so became a fan of toe fuzz and suggested you become a fan too!


So here’s what I’ve done.

I made a moosh in indy fan page. Where I can keep all of you my lovelies. Where I don’t have to worry about my frail little grandma reading about my latest escapade with a syringe full of menopausal death.

If you feel so inclined won’t you please be a fan of moosh in indy? (Fan sounds so strange. But whatever, apparently if facebook were a country it would be like the fourth largest country in the world and I’m guessing that it would be a little heavy on the dictatorship, so if facebook says fan, I say fan.)

And also, how do you use facebook? Do you think it’s kind of messy? Like myspace graduated from college with a generals degree yet never amounted to anything much to the disappointment of his parents (who ironically were just college kids themselves?)

to the grad school widows…

School has started yet again.

But for the first time in eight years it hasn’t started for us.

This one is dedicated to all my dear graduate school widows…be you first year or fourth…

swinging curls underdog he's so patient with me my little kid and me three late summer shadows he loves me

Someday you will get your significant other back.

You will be able to go to the parkĀ  at a moments notice and not have to worry about finals, tests or boards.

And when you do get them back?

They’ll be even better than you remember.

At least that’s what happened to us, and what I hope happens for you.

psst…want to win a toy?

Go here. Disclosure and details all over yonder, all you need to leave is a comment and look at the adorable cuteness that is my kid and our creativity. Otherwise, read about Mishi below. xoxo

meet mishi.

Mishi is Mishelle Lane from the blog Secret Agent Mama. We often have camera wars.

Mrs. Mishi

She has done a whole series of posts dedicated to introducing you to the people she met at BlogHer. They are a lovely series of posts and further assure me of the theory I had that you would have to be a serious butthole not to fall in love with Mishi immediately upon being graced with her presence.

Today she did one dedicated to herself, but I knew as soon as I saw her first “Meet…” post I had to reciprocate. Unfortunately she got to me before I got to her. She wrote me song, I’m just getting sappy.

Her camera is a natural extension of herself. She never looks awkward holding it and never does she look out of place with it smashed to her face.

She has a gift for catching moments, not pictures. (Her flickr stream is here, these are two of my favorites she’s taken.)

I love her, she makes the Internet and the world in general more lovely with not only pictures but her presence.

I’m her Betty, she’s my Al.

You should love her too.

my sister in law’s house burned down.

I’ve used this blog for a lot.

Let me tell you I never thought I’d be using it for this purpose.

My sister in law’s house burned down.

They have three little kids. My niece and nephews.

The live in St. George, Utah. Thank you to those of you who have already mobilized on their behalf.

A facebook page has been set up with a Wells Fargo account number and a bake sale is scheduled for this Saturday.

For now, besides prayers and emotional eating, this is all I know how to do.

Their boys are 6 and 4, their daughter is almost 2.

If you can be of any help with anything at all, even if it’s a toothbrush, please don’t hesitate to contact me and I will get you in touch with the right people.

Thank you for anything, this is a lot different when it’s actually happening to someone you know and love.

(Everyone is fine as far as I know, the cause of the fire is unknown as of now but it originated in the attic Saturday night.)