The hours between 11-6 really do exist

We might be in our early 20's (ok I'm in my early 20's and Andrew is pushing the second half of the decade) but we are old when it comes to bedtime.  It's a rare occasion for us (I really mean me) to stay up past 11, let alone past midnight.  New Year's Eve is one of those occasions Andrew doesn't put up with my "old" age.  So we went up to Seattle for the fireworks off of the space needle.  It was freezing, and we had to pay $10 to park our car for 1 hour, but it was pretty awesome.  The space needle literally looks like it's on fire when the fireworks are going off, but don't worry, it isn't.  Thanks to our new scarves and leather gloves from mama Donnelly, we stayed cozy.  I even stayed up with Andrew for the drive home!  What a trooper . . .

Our friends Cedar and Tia

And because I know you're all wondering what could these two have possibly *resoluted this year?  I'll tell you . . . 

• Floss every night (research has linked plaque to cardiac disease, so if that isn't enough of a reason, I don't know what is)
• Don't procrastinate homework (like I am doing right now by writing this blog)
• Do today's dishes TODAY (an apartment kitchen can stink up pretty fast if you leave stuff out)
• Put Xbox and PS3 controllers away when you're done using them (this one is Andrew's)

*resoluted: to have made resolutions (I made it up)

It's that time of the year . . .

 . . . to decorate the Christmas tree and drink lots of hot chocolate!  One of my favorite family traditions was going up into the mountains to pick out our Christmas tree every year.  I haven't been home in a few years in time to put up the Christmas tree, but it remains one of my favorite parts of Christmas.  We don't have nearly as many Christmas decorations as my mom does, but we turn up the Christmas music and pull out the green and red boxes.  Even though we weren't 1. in our own place long before Christmas, and 2. here long enough to enjoy it, I couldn't NOT put up the Christmas tree.  So here it is before it fell over (the base mysteriously broke sometime over the course of the last year).

HO HO HO to Wyoming we GO!!!

Our trip started out with a FULL day of traveling . . . we saved $80 or something, and thought it was worth it at the time.  We get to Denver, which is an almost 2 hour drive to Cheyenne at about 10:45 pm.  We waited for over 30 minutes, and my bag never came.  I started crying because I'm tired and I don't have ANY of my stuff while Andrew files a claim with Southwest.  They tell us the bag is probably on the next flight and will be delivered the next morning.  Not quite!  The airport probably had our phone number memorized by the time I got my bag TWO POINT FIVE DAYS LATER.  Because I have the greatest mom in the entire world, I had clothes and toiletries and what not to make it through whilst waiting for my bag.  Lesson learned?  Carry-ons are more than worth the pain in the arse they are having to carry them around the airport.

It's been ONE year since I've seen my family, and I was very excited to be able to go home this Christmas. For Andrew, the best part of visiting Cheyenne is making fun of some, ok most, of the people who live there.  He found the epitome of the Cheyenne scum in the parking lot at the mall.  *the following information is slightly vulgar and is not intended for younger audiences*  There was a very young (18-20 range) couple walking to their car.  She was pushing a stroller and was probably 7-8 months pregnant.  The guy was wearing jeans halfway down his butt, had a hat on sideways with a cigarette sticking out of his ear, and was wearing a shirt that said, "Things that make my dick hard."  NOT KIDDING.  Andrew was laughing so hard he couldn't control himself.  Now I'm sure these people can be found just about anywhere in the world, but it's always funny when someone/something lives up to its stereotypes.

Despite previous events, we had a great time with my family.  We're still adjusting to the whole two parents living in two different houses thing, but someday the holidays will be normal again.  We didn't bring our camera, and therefore did not get many pictures, EXCEPT for some really stupid, funny game we made up at the dinner table at my dad's house.  We had sparkling cider with our dinner and instead of drinking it like normal, civilized people, we made a drinking game out of it.  Leave it up to two Mormons and two underaged siblings to make a drinking game out of some sparkling cider.  The challenge was to put the entire rim of the champagne glass in your mouth and drink the cider in the glass faster than the other person.  It took Kale and Andrew two glasses and about 5 minutes to finish the challenge.  Jessi and I?  About 30 seconds.

SOCKS!!!

 Last week, during one of my crazy solo dance parties (after having just watched Dancing With the Stars, I might add) I decided I needed to know WHY those dancers wear the silliest looking outfits during rehearsal.  So, I put on some spandex, a tank top and loose shirt, pulled my hair up into a monstrous looking bun, and went to the sock drawer.  At this precise moment, I realized 1. I really should clean out my sock drawer and 2. I have some pretty wicked socks!  I grabbed a pair of toe socks and rocked out.  I've never danced so well before.  Really.  The crazy outfits DO work!  They make you feel like, "Whatever.  I already look like an idiot, so I might as well let it ALL go!"   After my (awesome) dance party, I went back to the sock drawer and marveled at the collection of socks I have.  So . . . I need to tell a story . . .

I have this pretty cool mom.  To add to her coolness, she has this knack for finding "one-of-a-kind" things (not meaning no one else has heard of them, meaning you're the only one who has THAT one).  Whether it be apartment decorations, jewelry, luggage tags, cupcake baking holder thingys, and clothes.  You name it, she's found it.  She really has a knack for finding cute socks.  Growing up in my house, every holiday that Hallmark has a card for, my mom always had little goodies for us when we woke up that day.  9 times out of 10, amongst those goodies were a pair of socks.  They almost always corresponded with the holiday we were "celebrating."  Over the years, I've never gotten rid of a pair of socks (unless they were involuntarily lost, which, we all know they do that).  So, here's a blog, dedicated to my favorite socks.  Thanks mom!  You're the best.

Kermit the frog socks

Santa and Mrs. Claus and 8 tiny reindeer

 

My "you're a star" socks

Do these really need a caption?

Fuzzy socks - softer than anything you've ever felt!

What to do (when) the zombie apocalypse happens

. . . according to Andrew.  The other night the power went out all around the Tacoma-Seattle area.  It was a pretty big deal.  Apparently not big enough to shut down my work for the day, or the University of Washington (to make sure Andrew's complaints are heard as well), I'm still mad at the winds for that one, but nonetheless, the storm created quite the havoc.  So what kind of preparations did we make at home, you ask?  Oh I'll tell you.  First, we found the flashlights and camping lamps, like responsible adults.  Then all of a sudden, Andrew stops dead in his tracks, squares my shoulders with him arms, and looks me directly in the eyes and asks me, "Bobbi, what would you need to do if the Zombie apocalypse JUST started?"  "Run?" I answer.  "Pfft, you'd be dead within hours," says the expert.  And so began our conversation for the next 30 minutes.

The official list of priorities and necessities is as follows:

1. Grab a weapon - something not too heavy, and not an axe (it would get stuck after you make contact)
2. Find walkie talkies and sync the channels
3. Find best friend Nick Baker
4. Gather all of the food and water you can carry/fit in the car

And that's it.  Tips on how to avoid zombies:

1. Stay away from places with lots of people, like hospitals or safety gatherings
2. Zombies like hot places, so go somewhere cold
3. If your spouse, family member, or friend gets bit, well, you know what you have to do

We finally decided we'd be headed for Wyoming!  haha  As ridiculous as it sounds, I actually felt a little bit safer.

Our best zombie interpretations (the best we could do in the dark) . . .

Andrew is growing a . .

 . . . MUSTACHE!!!  For Movember.  I laughed when he first told me about his idea, because he is always asking me to grow some kind of facial hair, and I'm just not the biggest fan of it, so (I know, I'm the most horrible wife ever) I always say no.  But not this time!  As funny as it is, it's for a great cause!  He decorated a little donation box to keep at work, and has officially registered as a 'stashe grower.  All proceeds go to awareness and funding for testicular cancer.  Here's the website with more information if you're interested.

The really funny part about Andrew growing a mustache is that he has practically invisible blonde hairs on his philtrum (who knew what that was?  Don't lie) which makes it look like he has two small patches of hair on either side of that little dip.  His solution?  Dye it.  I'm not kidding.  He used hair dye to color the blonde patch, so as to make it appear he can grow a decent mustache.  When he told me what he was doing, I told him he could only do it IF . . . 1. he let me take pictures of the process, and 2. he let me post them on our blog.

Thankfully, you won't find this handsome face on the national sex offender registry.

Before

During: The Peanut Butter Stage

During: The Chunky Spicy Dijon Mustard Stage

After

http://www.funlol.com/11007/Testicular_cancer_song.html

Happy Halloween (just a week later)

I'm not really big on the scary/gory aspects of Halloween.  I like the cutesy decorations, and the fun costumes.  Unfortunately for Andrew being scared is one of my LEAST favorite things, so I refuse(d) to watch a "true" Halloween movie with him.  Instead he watched a movie with his dad and I had a friend over and we watched "Teen Witch."  It was awesome . . .

Last year Andrew and I discovered we have this incredible talent of patience and persistence when it comes to pumpkin carving, so we did a lot of it.  The best way to describe our antics last year would be that compared to a crack addict . . . we ran around in the dark, rainy parts of downtown Tacoma frantically searching for an open grocery store with just 2 more pumpkins!  Due to very busy schedules this year, we weren't able to pull off the TEN pumpkins like we did last year, but I got in 3 and Andrew did 4.  My hands are sore from picking out ONE MILLION (no more, no less) pumpkin seeds in order to roast those delicious suckers.  Andrew's excuse for not helping was his claim that "pumpkin goo" is good for your skin, and he'd hate to deprive me of the softest, most gelatinous hands.  *Gelatinous was my word, not his . . . good word, huh?

Here are the beauties . . .