Round and Round

I went shopping on Friday night after work and ran into an old friend's mom. That's always awkward. Espeicially when the old friend is one that I no longer speak to because he treats me like dirt when we do talk and I don't think I deserve that.

It's one of those situations where I feel compelled to send him an email every year or so (hmm, coming up on that time of year, come to think of it!) and when he gets it he feels compelled to tell me why I'm worthless and heartless and a low-down-rotten excuse for a person. It's way fun. It's like this though, I can't seem to give up on it. I think I have an imbalance somewhere. Called optimism. Plus, I've been known to get nostalgic when looking at old underwear, so you can imagine how I feel about old friends.

(If Bruce reads this, he will be sitting inside of his monitor by now, using every bit of the force of his will to tell me not to email this guy. He knows.)

That's not where I meant to go with this post, but there it landed. Where I meant to go with this post was, "I bought a pair of shoes on Friday and the silly salesgirl put them in a seperate bag from the board game I bought and then didn't give the bag to me. So I had shoes that I purchased festering in Green Bay over Friday night, and I'm lucky that I had to work there again on Saturday or I would have had to waste a bunch of gas for them." Much shorter post.

I should also mention that after working with the new kid on Saturday (and with two new people, as well), I was feeling pretty scared and unsure of myself. After talking with some friends and marinating in it for a while, I realize that I wasn't scared that I couldn't do it so much as I was insecure about how the new girls saw me. Which won't be helped by me having a lead therapist there on Tuesday, it would probably only make it worse. I'm sure I'll be fine. New houses just make me nervous, new people make me nervous, new kids make me nervous, and this new kid is non-verbal which makes me very nervous. The best way to cure all of that (for me) is to dive in.

Money Talks

The nice lady at the bank today wanted so badly to give me a written copy of my balance that I let her. A few days ago, I was sinking deeply into a dark place involving money and things that need paying (with a friend, because these things are much better with company!) and I think I managed to make myself a budget of sorts. If not a real budget, then a list of things that need to be paid for in the next two weeks and the total of those things. And then a seperate list of the money I have and the difference that lies between and the knowlege that that money is what I can spend or save (hahaha... stop, stop... you're killing me) and... wait. What?

That's a budget, you say?

Well, gee. Nobody ever tells you how much better you feel with a tentative grasp on your finances.

I've got enough money left over after the things I need this payperiod to buy a bike, so that's what I'm going to do. And maybe a basket for said bike.  And a bell.  Or a horn.  You know, whatever will make it the dorkiest/best bike in the tri-county area.

Random, Day 24

Today I woke up at 6:00AM to my dog pitter-pattering (remind me to clip his toenails, would you?) on the kitchen floor of the Lake House, whining all the way. I was upstairs and he was barricaded in the down, and he didn't like that. I went downstairs to try to lull him to sleep, laying on the pull-out couch with my brother for 15 minutes before realizing, "Hey, you should just take my bed upstairs. Dur." And off he went. He didn't pitter-patter, though. He clips his toenails regularly.

I called Todd to get Lee Ann's number and, just like on the first time I called, he reversed two of the first three digits. It created a large deja-vu sensation, but I dialed the way he told me anyway, because it's in my nature to think I'm wrong before anyone else is, only to get the same message I'd gotten that first time -- this number has been disconnected. Unlike the first time, I didn't panic, instead calling back, reversing those two digits, and Lee Ann answered right away. Silly me, I should trust myself.

I just finished reading "Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim," by David Sedaris, and I'm in complete agreement with all of the reviews (which I also read, which I never read), he is incredibly poignant and also a comic genius. I am in love.

I am still wondering about the wedding VCR, but I'm leaning toward shipping it to Bruce. I would still like a copy of the video, and he's got the equipment to burn it onto DVD.

I drove Robby as far as Sheboygan, about half-way between here and Milwaukee. We met Tony, ate at Perkins (for the second time in one day) and then went to Target, where Robby dashed around like a madman in a panic to find some deals he was too lazy to catch yesterday. I left feeling unfulfilled. I have an embarrassing crush on Tony, who does not play for my team. Or the opposite team? Something. He's not in my league, in any case. I am in awe of him. Too bad for my vagina.

Huck is finally dressed in his new 'outfit', the collar and leash I bought him last time I went to Target. I'm not sure it fits him entirely, but it's definitely very adorable. We'll see how I like it as the week wears on, maybe I'll buy him a different set and keep these aside for my next dog. Can't you just imagine me picking out a dog on the basis of whether it will be the right size and color to fit this collar? I can. Luckily, I forgive myself for things like this.

Tupperware? TupperHERE!

Tupperware, here I come.

I know, I know, after the candle party I told everyone I wouldn't do it again, it was too stressful and almost not worth it and I've still got most of those candles in the boxes they came in, but... Well, I like candles more in theory than in practice. I like Tupperware in practice!

At the party I won a free thing specifically for keeping 1/2 an onion in your fridge, which is handy. I bought some measuring spoons, the ones that will sit on the counter without tipping over. They were $10.00 in the bulk bin, but she accepted my $7.00. Had I known I could haggle with her, I might have tried it on more stuff.

I went to the party at my brother's house, and my cousin was there sitting with me on the couch. I was half-hungover, and I was the class-clown of the party, making snarky comments and all. Somebody thought it would be a good idea to buy me a peppermint mocha before I went, and I think that contributed to the hyper. I could *not* stop talking. It was I was replaced by a really funny robot whose only function was to talk. I was embarrassed at myself as it was happening, but I couldn't stop. The words, they just kept spilling from my mouth! It was insane!

Part of what caused me such humor was sitting next to Cousin and realizing at the same moment as she did that practically all of our toys growing up were Tupperware toys. Yeah, we had them all -- the stencils, the plastic ball with cut-outs to put shapes through. We had one of the horns that you pound on something and a ball goes flying out from! That one was definitely the best of the bunch. It made me want to buy that for somebody. Anybody. Heck, I want one for myself again.

Anyway, the party's on January 20th. And you're invited!

Would you like to buy some Tupperware?

My Responces:

Call it an experiment. I texted the same tongue twister to five people today. Here are the responces I got:

"LOL"

"As much as a woodchuck could chuck wood."

"I dunno... Ten pounds per day per kilogram of the woodchuck's body weight?"

and my personal favorite:

"Huh?"

My Sister

I've had this blog for three years now, and I keep forgetting to tell you all the story of my sister. It's a big story for me, and I always wanted to wait until I could tell it just right, but I'm not sure there is a "just right" way. And it deserves to be told, it's important.

So! In the spring of 2001, I found out I have a sister. My mom gave her up for adoption before I was born. Then she met my dad, they got married, and they started our family. Mom didn't tell me about her daughter, because she never knew if she'd try to contact her. She didn't want me to always wonder about her. Well, in 2001, Mom didn't have to wonder anymore. She got in contact with her, and wanted to meet us. We met her. Her name is Rachel. She's due to have a baby around Labor Day.

I went through a lot of weird stuff when I found out. I wished I had known. I went through some crazy bad times, some lonely times when I was in school, and I know I would have felt better had I been able to think about my sister being out there somewhere. Even if I'd never met her, it would have been possible, and that would have been cool.

I do understand why Mom didn't tell us, though, because it was painful for her and she wanted to spare us some of that pain. I'm happy that she made the choice she did, mostly because I'm not sure I'd be here if she'd have kept the baby.

Sometimes I think it screwed me up in the head a little bit. I think it messed me up a little bit to think I was the first child when I really wasn't. I think it had a bearing on the way I turned out. None of this is Rachel's fault, but for a while, I resented her.

Needless to say, I'm a big proponant of honesty with children. Creativity and imagination are wonderful, and I won't ever quash them, but honesty is important. I'm not talking about abolishing Santa Claus, but definitely acknowledging the Rachels.

Lonesome

I almost had a bonfire tonight.  Then I realized that I can't picture sitting around a bonfire by myself.  (First of all:  painful to attempt that.)

I miss my B.  I want that house he's looking at, the one with the giant yard, where Huck could run free while we had a bonfire and talked.  Where I could grow an enormous garden, or maybe have the same amount of vegetables, spread out so that I'm not growing a jungle.  Maybe we could get a goat?  Probably not a goat.  I think it's just the knowlege that we could have a goat that I like about that place.  You think that if they allow a goat, they'd allow chickens, right?  Maybe a couple of chickens.  (Whenever I think about my desire for chickens, I think of this bookwhich, by the way, is a very good book.)

This is pretty much a stream-of-consciousness post, and my consciousness is being interrupted by the fireworks, so I'll leave you to your day.  Carry on, and all that.  

Love Thy Neighbor

Yesterday Huck got away from me, and the neighbors had a cow!

I mean, literally. Like, "MOO!"

I wonder if it's OK to have a cow in your backyard in this neighborhood? I never asked. It's just a baby. Are they growing their own veal? Because it's not exactly a couple of acres they've got here, it's barely more land than we have. Maybe they're cowsitting?

I love this neighborhood.

Tomorrow, Lasagna

I made the sauce tonight while Bruce was at work, using some mild Italian sausage and ground turkey and will be fixing the rest of it and layering it tomorrow. I was going to repay my mom for the ravioli lasagna she sent over a few weeks ago, but now I'm thinking it'll be fun to do a real lasagna. You know, with ricotta and stuff.

I say that as though I hadn't bought the ricotta earlier in the week. It's been on the list of plans for a while. Let's leave it at that.

As I said, I made the sauce while Bruce was at work tonight at the radio station, and now it's going to simmer all night on low in the crock pot. I'm really hoping this isn't an awful idea.

Here's a picture of that ravioli lasagna, which was actually pretty good. I think my mom got the recipe from Rachel Ray. Wow, they're really marketing her pep, aren't they? That show is like her other shows revved up a few notches - and I was surprised she went any higher than her other shows. Goes to show.

I'm Boring Lately

I spend a lot of time thinking up new things to make, which I rarely make, and new ways in which to help myself be less crazy.  I want to spend less time worrying and more time enjoying the simple things in life.

The easiest way I've found to enjoy life more is to take the extra time to enjoy the people around me.  Sometimes, this is hard to do.  (I work in customer service.)  So I spend a lot of effort (when I'm actively trying to enjoy people, before it becomes a habit) making sure I'm understanding where everyone is coming from and being genuinely happy to see them and acting like I am when I'm not, so I trick my body into acting happy and then I trick my mind into thinking I'm happy... it goes on and on like that.  You can see why I don't feel like talking about it constantly.  The running commentary in my brain is enough, trust me.

I've been researching making my own lip balm, and while it seems interesting and fun, it doesn't sound like something I'd want to do all the time and try to make money at.  So that idea's over.  But I've decided I would like to make some from scratch as gifts for Christmas or something, maybe next year.  In the meantime, I'm going to keep knitting dishcloths (count is up to 9.5), but that's about all the knitting I've been doing.  Oh wait, I lied.  I'm also knitting a  garter stitch scarf for a certain cousin's daughter.  She picked out the very soft, very fuzzy yarn herself when we were shopping, and suggested slightly heavily that she would like a scarf from some yarn like this, because it was soft and fuzzy and the colors reminded her of spring and maybe that would mean that spring would come faster when she wore it please.  So that's what she's getting.  Someday.

My cooking is improving, but other than an ambitious (for me) tomato-cream sauce last week, it hasn't gone anywhere it hasn't been before.  For the Superbowl party (us and my parents and the creatures)  I made two pizzas from scratchings (read this recently somewhere, and it made me die a thousand cute deaths, but I can't remember where I saw it, sorry), and we had veggies and dip.  

The bread baking has slowed to a halt.  I've been really tired lately, as lame as that sounds.  Maybe it's all the crazy thinking I've been doing.  Who knows.  Alls I know is I've got some loaves promised, and there'll be some head rolling all over the place should I not come through with them.  The head will be mine.  In case you were wondering.  I also found a springform pan in some stuff, and I'm wondering what one makes with such a device.  I'm too lazy right now to look it up.  Is it cheesecake?  Does one make cheesecake with a springform pan?  I'm guessing it's something like that, but I'm miles away from cheesecake.  Making cheesecake will take (above anything else) a desire to eat cheesecake.  I'm not really a cheesecake sort of girl.  Maybe Bruce will want cheesecake someday.

My work is sort of sucking lately, and it's something specific I don't want to talk about on here.  If you're curious, you can always email me to hear me vent.  It's a couple of things that are sort of specific.  A few nights this week, I've come home and taken a bath to relax.  I'm becoming bath-dependant.  I'm concidering billing my gas bill to Workman's Comp.

So!  I was looking for something fresh to do.   Any ideas?

Whaddaya Know?

I just read this at this website.

Of course, I wouldn't have found it half as fascinating if I weren't one of the least likely to be in an accident. Perhaps all of that Leo venting and boiling over at minor things pays off on the road, because then we can afford to be charitable and patient, while other, more outwardly patient signs, bottle things up all the live-long day, and let it all explode while they're in motor vehicles?

I don't know, that's just a theory. But a good one!

Whatcha-Ma-Call-Him

When did Martin Score-say-see become Martin Score-says-ee?

Is it a case of everyone finally (after what, thirty years or more?) suddenly realizing his name has been pronounced wrong? Or is it one of those things where there have always been two schools of thought on the pronounciation, and I'm only now hearing the people from the second school of thought, after having heard nothing but the first school of thought's pronounciation for twenty-six years?

Contents Under Pressure

Lately I've noticed that I put a whole lot of pressure on myself that is completely unnecessary. I spend so much time worrying about shit that couldn't possibly matter to anyone but myself, it's ridiculous. And if no one else is going to worry about it, why the hell do I care? So I'm trying to lighten up a bit.

I can remember a few years ago, right around the time that I met Bruce, I concentrated really hard and let myself let go of the things that really don't matter, and I was so incredibly happy and that's when it seemed like everything came together in my life. I lost about forty (doesn't forty always seem like it should have a 'U'?) pounds, I was constantly in a good mood, I was nice to everyone around me, always, and I was totally only seeing the good in people all the time. Plus, everyone loved me. Of course they did, it's so stupid to be surprised by that, but I am. Of course everyone loved me when I was always happy and bubbly and nice to everyone.

For some reason my mind always wants to tell me that it's because I was skinny then that everyone liked me, and for Pete's sake! God, get a grip! People don't like people because they're skinny. They like people because they're nice and fun and happy, that's why they like them. I want to be that nice, fun, happy girl again.

I figure it's only a matter of taking the time to convince myself not to freak out about the tiny things that only matter to me and to just plain act happy and fun and nice, because if I act like I'm all of those things eventually I'll forget that it's all an act and it'll be second nature.

I need to start seeing the everyday humor in the stuff around me, too. Example: Earlier in the evening I had to look on the internet to see if we should take Huck to the vet for his diarrhea, and I came across a really cool website that helped me stop freaking out about it. Here's the website. Anyway, I just came back to the computer to write this entry, and I noticed that the search term I used was "diahhrea dog". Come on, that's pretty funny. Nobody wants to pet that dog. I picture a poor little sickly animal all dripping in poop. Poop is funny. (I was going to lie and claim that I typed in "diarrhea" - correctly spelt - but I figure no one would believe me. I don't believe anyone knows how to spell that word.

I'm also going to start indulging myself in things more often. I'm a hoarder - when I find something I really like, I treasure it and barely use it because I don't want to waste it. I don't know what sense that makes, especially in the case of nice smelling lotions or body wash or something. I love Bath and Body Works' Moonlit Path, but I never ever wear it because I don't want it to go to waste. It's hardly going to waste if I'm smelling nice and I feel better about myself because I know I smell awesome, is it?

My other neurosis about using stuff like that is somehow I think that if I smell great all the time that it'll stop being special, or that if I forget then Bruce will be upset or something. That's so ridiculous I don't even need to dignify it with a response. (Did you notice how I'm totally having a strange sort of agruement with myself here?) I'm so weird about stuff like that, and it's time to stop. I need to just let myself enjoy things. I'm going to try to do that.

Ok, I Lied

I do have a few things that I want to get off my chest.

Firstly, that yarn I posted this weekend, the stuff I was so proud to dye all on my own and felt so good about? Guess who ate it? Here's a hint: It wasn't me, and it wasn't Bruce. Yeah, I know. That's the same reaction I had, only there was more emotional investment on my part. Hint #2: There was crying.

Luckily, I still have the orange-flavored yarn intact. Apparently, blue-raspberry lemonade smells better if you're a freaking housepet. Joke was on them, 'cause I know firsthand that unsweetened koolaid tastes like sour chalkdust.

I knit up a baby hat for a lady from work. Well, not for the lady, but for her daughter. You know. I'm really fond of it and it's almost the cutest thing I ever did knit, but I can't get a picture of it because my freaking batteries are dead. Also, I can't afford new ones. At least not for a few days. I sort of want to send the hat out before then, though, because the hat looks tiny to me and while I'm pretty sure it will fit the baby at some point, I really don't know how fast babies grow or how small they are at what ages. It's been a long time (like, since I was five) since I've been around a baby. I don't exactly know babies.

My back has been hurting for almost two weeks now. Maybe more than that. I forget. It's been hurting since that night that Robby and I and Bruce all went out and Robby gave me a back massage at the bar. My old theory was that he stress-fractured me when he was doing his massage, but my new theory is that my muscles were so tense that they had been stopping my pinched nerves from hurting, and now that the muscles are looser all of my pinched nerve-ness is being felt. I don't know. It's the sort of theory that I have no knowlege to back up, but it sounds like it could be true, so I want to believe it. Maybe one of these days my vertebre will just pop back into place because of my fantastic posture and I'll feel good as new. In the meantime, I still have some extra-extra strength Tylenol left over from my toothache last month.

God, I wish I could sleep on my back, because I think that would take care of some of the problem.

I'm also thinking about what sort of curtains I want to make for our new house. The blinds we have in the kitchen and living rooms are terrible - half of them are broken and all of them are gross and dusty - and I love a good curtain, because I like to have full access to the sunlight when it's bright and cheerful outside. I don't have any sewing skills, though, so I want them to be as easy as possible. I made up an easy design that I want to show you.

One Year, Fifteen Days

We signed the lease on the (amazing) house from yesterday's post. That's right, we'll be living in a pink house. Luckily, none of my boys have any issues with their masculinity. There has also been an executive decision on the part of Bruce to call it "salmon" from now on.

I've been calling it That 70's House. When I show you some pictures, you'll see why. I love it. It's hard to find a house with that much character. Bruce's office has blue carpet. That's a lot of character.

I still can't believe how nice the landlords are being. They told us that if we want to paint, they'll pay for the paint. If we want to put in different carpet, they'll pay for the carpet. They're fine with both the dog and the cat. We don't have a higher security deposit, we've only been asked to have the carpets cleaned when we leave.

I promised pictures of Huckleberry and his first snowfall, so here they be.

Sorry for the blurry, the camera likes to focus on the falling snow, and not the dog.  

Better posture is making my back hurt for the time being. Also, when my brother gave me a back massage at the bar on Friday night, he bruised it. I didn't complain so as not to look a gift massage in the mouth, and also I've always thought there's little point to a light massage. Unfortunately, that's working against me now.

I've started doing some stretches as well, to loosen up my muscles, especially the ones in my back. I forgot how good it feels to really stretch. If I were more new-agey than I am, I would say that I could feel all the built up toxins releasing themselves and that I felt more healthy already. I don't like saying that sort of thing, though, because of the high risk of ridicule. I'll just say it felt damn good to stretch, and I'm going to do it as often as I remember.

I also started knitting something, and that something is an actual garment that is actually meant to be worn somewhere other than a foot! It's practically a miracle, and I bet you can't wait to tune in tomorrow. In the meantime, cross your fingers that I remember to take a picture of it, tiny bit of knitting that it might be.

Socktoberfest! A Few Days Late!

On Friday night, in the midst of a jam session of my new favorite band, Third Leg, and also in the midst of a good old nostalgic beer-fest on my part, I found an old friend of mine. Actually I found his blog. We spent oodles of time way back when convincing each other that german class was to be avoided in favor of coffee. I owe all of my german knowlege to the fact that some of the boys in that class were too cute to miss.

He just signed on for Socktoberfest, and after looking at my sock collection:

Can't imagine what's wrong with this pair, can you? Um, I need to fix the long one.

This was my first sock, completed in January. I think it's time for a mate, don't you?

This one is probably going to be frogged until later - the needles have crappy joins, and I spend more time pushing the stitches around the needles than I spend actually "knitting".

Anyway, I have a few sock issues to work out, as you can see. Why not try and finish up a few things during Socktoberfest? Also, I have to get some of these off my plate so that I can feel good about starting the socks I've been salivating over for almost a year:

Embossed Leaves (and Fleece Artist sock yarn! Joy!) in the perfect shades of green.

There are a few other things on my mind. This plant has pretty much been left to die in my mom's room, and I want to revive it. Do any of you have green thumbs? Can you tell me how to save it? I've run out of ideas after giving it a)sunlight and b)water. (It was left in a dark room without attention for a few months.)

What do you think, is there still hope?

Hmm, I wonder why my pictures are cutting off at the bottoms?

I've Been Better

My mind is working badly lately, keeping me from sleeping when I should be, reminding me to be really worried about stuff - without actually telling me what I should be worried about, generally being a big ol' pain in the ass.

I've been thinking about things to make myself feel better. While I appreciate all long-term suggestions (eating better, losing weight, etc.) and know they would be good for me, I'm in a funk right now, and need something to pull me out of it quicker than those things. I'm talking instant feel-betterers.

So far, I have a pretty short list:

• buy a bra that fits


• buy new underwear and don't walk around in the stuff I bought in high school


• buy new socks, so I have enough and don't have to grunge it some days (or any days, for that matter

That's about it. I'm only good for undergarment-centric ideas right now. Anyone have anything else that is bound to cheer me up? I'm open to ideas. Preferably quick-fixes.

As Usual, In No Particular Order:

• I'm thinking about knitting a hooded sweater. I don't know where to find a simple hooded sweater like the one in my head, so I'm half-expecting that my first sweater ever (did I mention it's my first sweater ever?) might be of the sort I make up in my head. I'm not sure if this makes me really creative, or really stupid. Probably both.


• Huckleberry had his first nail-clipping today. Ok, I know he's really old for the first time. Your visions of him as some sort of Freddy Krueger-esque monster are more accurate than you know. We didn't have a nail-clippers, and although we tried using the dremmel on him, he didn't like the noise or the way we had to hold him, and I ended up with lungs full of dog-nail-dust. It wasn't pleasant. I have to say that he took the trimming VERY well. He didn't like standing still, but the clipping didn't bother him in the slightest.


• I'm getting behind on my actual "blogging". My brain hasn't been working in a storytelling manner lately. I suspect it'll come back soon.


• This weekend is Oktoberfest in Appleton. We really want to go - Bruce has been reading about it for weeks. I'm excited to check out the yarn shops in the area. And beer. I hear there might be beer.

Passing the Buck

Most of the time, I wish I could pass it off. What, you ask? Well, pretty much anything. Everything, even. I wish I could assign tasks to people around me (most notably, B. He's a good person to look to for tasks of the gathering-information-online sort, for example. Or the taking-out-the-trash nature. You know, the stuff I'm really not interested in.  

I look to various people for various things. Most of the mundane stuff at work I can laze my way out of - nobody works a full day, and there's always somebody there to pick up my slack.

I think this way of thinking is biting me in the ass, not to put too fine a point on things. I can't really expect to get the most out of life by sitting back and letting someone else do the dirty work. For one thing, I'm being a major pain in the ass. For another, no one is going to figure out what I want to do with my life for me. It sucks, but I can't just lay around and expect to reap the benefits of being self-sufficient.

So, long story short, I'm going to try to take an active role in, well, myself. The Buck Stops Here, as some politician or other might put it. Only I mean it. For reals.

In light of this new variety of thought, I've been thinking about going back to school. Someday. In the meantime, I think I'd better get a better idea of what I want to do. After twenty-odd years of trying to figure it out, I'm thinking Veterinary Technician might be a good prospect for me. So let the research begin.

Boring Assesment of Network TV (RE: Scheduling)

Mondays- Prison Break at 7 (Fox). Bruce likes it, I won't let myself watch, just in case I like it. I have strange ideas about what is acceptable for me to watch. Also, I have a feeling I hate it, and I'd rather be able to say, "Oh, I've never seen it," instead of truthfully saying, "Oh, gak, I hate that show." I guess it's How I Met Your Mother at 7:30 (CBS)

At 8, there's *Heros* (NBC).  More a Bruce show than a Sunny show, but we'll see.  

At 9, it's all about the new Aaron Sorkin show (which is what I've been calling it since I heard about it, but it's real name happens to be), Studio 60. Mondays are full!

Tuesdays- Gilmore Girls at 7 (the CW). After this summer (we borrowed all the seasons from a coworker of mine), how could we miss it? I just hope they get back to the basics and stop being so... well, rich. Rich people annoy me. I shouldn't say that, it sounds richist. I don't like hoity-toity people. There, that's better.  It may have already happened, they might already be more down-to-earth.  We haven't seen the sixth season yet.

House at 8 (Fox). We love House. How can you not?

Wednesdays- America's Next Top Model at 7 (UPN). I'm willing, Bruce will probably play Yahoo! Pool for that hour. The only thing potentially holding me back is Bruce's insane desire to watch Bones. Seriously, he's no Angel. Period. The nice thing is, this year we have more than one TV. We're going to leave the first slot of the night kind of open. After all, both of the sitcom-ish shows on NBC (30 Rock - Tina Fey show, and 20 Good Years - John Lithgow and George Sr.) seem like they'll be good, and maybe Bones has gotten better, and I have a car crash thing going on with ANTM, so who knows where we'll end up?

At 8, it's Veronica Mars, which apparently Joss Whedon is a huge fan of. Anything getting his seal of approval will probably get mine too.

Thursdays- Smallville at 7 (the CW). Bruce is obsessed. I've promised to never tell anyone he's a comic book guy, but luckily very few people read this. Hi mom! Survivor isn't even going to be a part of my decision this year, because well, seriously? They're dividing people into groups based on RACE? Haven't we as a country gotten beyond that?  Since like, sometime last century? Rosa Parks dies, and all of a sudden segregation is hip again? I'm going to sneak into the basement for (NBC) My Name is Earl at 7, followed by The Office at 7:30. It's great timing, really, because Bruce doesn't like The Office.

At 8 we're stuck with deciding between CSI (CBS) and Grey's Anatomy (ABC). I like CSI, but I don't LOVE the characters. I've heard amazing things about Grey's Anatomy, but haven't actually seen the show yet. I've got a feeling it'll be one of those shows I don't want to admit to watching, if I get into it. We'll see. Bruce is interested in Supernatural (the CW), so that's what we're probably watching.

Oh, and at 9 I want to check out Six Degrees (ABC). I like the premise, we'll see how far it takes the show.

Fridays- Apparently, 7 on Fridays will be a toss-up between America's Funniest Home Videos (ABC) (gag me) and WWE Friday Night Smackdown (the CW). As good an excuse as any to go out and get effing plastered at the bar, I say. Especially considering that...

At eight, we'll be watching Trading Spouses (FOX). Oh, the drama. Oh, no thanks.

Saturdays- Nothing. Nada. Zip. Not even anything warranting mentioning for comedic effect. It's that dull on Saturdays.

Sundays- at 8 it will definitely be The Amazing Race (CBS).