packing and moving.

The worst.

So far we have about twenty boxes packed, and there's still a room and a half to go.  Every time I turn around there's another pile of something that still hasn't been packed.  There's also the entire closet, both dressers, and my unpacked suitcase from Thanksgiving to deal with.

And we have a lot more lamps than I realized.  How do you pack a lamp?!

a first for everyone.

Thanksgiving yesterday was great.  Family. Food. Turkey coma.  The end.

But AFTER dinner is when my dad got the crazy idea to head over to Sears for their pre-Black Friday event.  He said he "just wanted to see what all the fuss was about."

So at eight o'clock we piled in the car and found a line wrapped around the far side of the store.  And yes, we ventured inside.  They did have some pretty good sales on men's clothing, but nothing in the right style or size for any of our mutants... I mean loved-ones.

Overall, it wasn't as horrible as we expected.  But my mom and I are heading out to JCPenny later today, and that could be dangerous!!

sick.

It's the best. 
I love being sick. 
I love hacking up phlegm and mucus. 
I love only breathing through my mouth. 

I love being completely dependent on nyquil and allergy medicine.


I love it.

the letter O.

I love the monogram trend.  100% love it.  Everything about it.  Just look at this wall from Jones Design Co...  Absolutely gorgeous.

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 And these yarn-wrapped letters, cork monograms, or even just hanging a painted wood letter on a pretty ribbon...  I'm smitten.

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The only downside?  I don't really love the letter O, which is, unfortunately, my new initial.  [Does a year and a half still count as new?]  It's just so boring to me.  And I can't get over it.  I mean, it's just a circle, or an oval, or an egg-shaped blob depending on the font you use.  Sad times.

I think I'm mostly upset by this trend that I can't participate in because I'm totally convinced that if I collected enough O's to fill a wall, at least one of them would look like I mounted a toilet seat.  :(

OH!  Also, as an added bonus [or salt in my wound, as I like to see it] my own personal monogram, if I were to have it embroidered on anything, would be "sOw"...  Yep.  The name for a female pig.  It's a good thing I wasn't thinking about these things when John first asked me for a date...

also...

This week we have made a goal to not eat fast-food more than once.  Or twice.  [We had Arby's today  :-/  as a reward for voting and it's still pretty early in the week.]

As a result of this goal, I have needed to actually cook the food in our pantry.  I know!!  It's been tough.  All forty minutes that I've spent in the kitchen have been brutal!!  Haha.  Not really.  Yesterday I made garlic and brown sugar chicken.  Kind of strange, but pretty delicious.  Today I made some corn chowder, complete with bacon and assorted vegetables.

Tomorrow's menu is leftovers.  And then we'll try to be healthy by eating some more chicken and a nice filling salad.  Yes, I realize that is only four days worth of meals.  But I figure heating up leftovers still counts as me cooking dinner.  So we're good!

Hopefully this will inspire me to keep cooking next week, and the next week, and the next week, and... you get it.

i've never liked math.

My brain just canNOT handle numbers.  That is a fact.  Just ask my 12th grade statistics teacher.

And now they're expecting me to watch a strange map where the states keep changing colors, and add awkward numbers together while eighteen different reporters talk about past elections, and try to decide which TV channel or website or Facebook post is giving me the most accurate prediction of who the President is going to be.

And John just informed me that there is such a thing as "faithless electors."  Seriously?

I'm not going to lie, the low-budget south-east Idaho commercials are better than this.

I may or may not just take a huge swig of NyQuil and wait to see what the result is in the morning. 

In other news... I sat on my cell phone and the kick-stand is now officially broken.  And by broken, I mean permanently extended. 

first world problems. part eighty-two.

We all know I'm a complainer.  And that I'm pretty spoiled.  And sometimes kind of bratty.  So, let's talk about my issues with the Taco Bell drive-thru.

First, I hate going to a drive-thru by myself.  I always feel like a fatty.  Probably because I'm an order-by-picture kind of person, and those menus are ALL PICTURES.  It's just too tempting to order my food and fourteen other things that also look delicious.  So, anyway, I made John come with me tonight on my I'm-hungry-and-I-don't-want-to-microwave-anything Taco Bell run.  We got there, he ordered his tacos, and then I took another five minutes to decide what I wanted.  [I'm pretty sure the guy thought we left.]

The best thing about Taco Bell, in my personal opinion, is that in Rexburg the drive-thru exits directly on to Main Street, so I have never EVER been asked to pull into a parking spot to wait for my food to be ready.   Unfortunately, today the silly boy in the window forget to ask John if we wanted any mild sauce.  Worst.thing.ever.  I really like to drown my tacos in mild sauce.  So we always need a handful of those little packets.  And we didn't get ANY!!

I should have just gotten over it, gone home, and eaten my dry, flavorless tacos in peace, right??  WRONG.  I pouted.  In true Sydney fashion.

And my wonderful, amazing, nice, cute, awesome, fantastic, thoughtful husband made an illegal left turn/u-turn/awkward maneuver back into the Taco Bell parking lot, ran inside, and brought back an impressively large handful of mild sauce packets.  He's the best.

The moral of the story is:  If you work the drive-thru at Taco Bell never forget to ask me if I would like any extra sauces.  Honestly, you'll be doing the world a favor by decreasing the number of silly things I have to complain about.