You might as well finish it.

I’ve got to be honest…

I’m totally lovin’ Jodi’s new Finish It! actions. Read the rest of this entry »

In case you’ve been under a rock somewhere in Canada, you know that the Saints are in the Superbowl for the first time EVER. Everything in the state closed down at 3 this afternoon…

And the world smells so good that you wanna stick your head out of the window and hang your tongue out like a dog.

Here in Shakespeare-ville, we’re bbq’ing the regular goodies as well as duck breast wrapped in jalapeno and bacon.

YUM.

Click to enlarge

“It is like the following universal truth that you can not argue with: When in somebody else’s house you only realize that they have ran out of toilet paper after you have used the toilet.”

Check your spam folders, people.

There may be more in there than just porn.

I just received and email from mint.com letting me know that the balance in my Chase account is “low”, and that I should “proceed with caution“.

I balanced that account earlier this morning.

And was so thrilled that I had that much money leftover after paying bills that I actually called my sister to brag.

Damn you, technology.

The Spawn of Shakespeare and I find ourselves spending a questioningly healthy amount of time bonding over various episodes, new and repeated, of Bones.

And I keep asking myself whether or not the show is entirely appropriate for children…

On one hand, they can name the majority of the bones in the skeletal system, know how to use fabric softener to restore dehydrated appendages, and can recognize all of the occupational markers of being a violinist.

On the other, they’re starting to appear awfully unaffected by the sight of a rotting corpse.

And here I thought that when they told me motherhood would be about making the tough decisions, they were talking about things like breastfeeding or spanking or cloth-diapering…

You know…

Trivial shit.

Let’s play a little game of  Judith’s Favorite Thing in the Picture, shall we?

The rules are really simple; just tell me which of the things in the above picture is the thing that I like the best.  Don’t be fooled, though, this is not as easy as it seems.

Is it…

1.  The rustic-esque $3 “Wine by the glass” tin serving tray that magically turns the wicker basket in my livingroom into a nifty tabletop.

2.  My lovely cup of café au lait that makes my day that much brighter.

3.  The irony behind the text message from God telling me that I should consider therapy.

Winners will receive absolutely nothing other than the right to do a winner’s dance at will.

Naked if you’d prefer*.

Or, if you’re anything like me, at least with a bra on.

I now have a *not* unprecedented urge to go out and spend all of my allowance on hot pink fishnets and roller skates.

Wanna come?

I turned thirty in September.

To my credit, I didn’t overly freak out as one might expect someone on the verge of being soundly routed from that decade epitomized by both the freedom of youth and the joys of full-fledged adulthood to do.  Although, I’ll admit, I may have spent many a moment while at a bachelor-ette party the weekend before  (a final hurrah, if you would, to prove that I could still toss back nearly a rent payment’s worth of cheap vodka and expensive tequila, crawl into bed after the rooster’s crow, and still survive to tell about it) adamantly insisting to friends, old and new alike, that I would not be having another birthday and that twenty-nine was a perfectly acceptable age to… well… stop aging. Read the rest of this entry »