Let’s Hear it For The Boy….Again! November 28, 2008

Let’s Hear it For The Boy…Again.

When speaking of how our love story is reminiscent of a movie. I promise I’ll write about the whole epic adventure at some point!

The Boy: Who would play me in our movie?
Shaba: I really don’t know, hmmm. Who do you remind me of?
The Boy: I know! Keanu Reeves.
The Boy Impersonating Mr. Reeves: “I like…love you…and stuff”
Shaba: *obnoxiously loud laughter *

Unfortunately I don’t remember what this is in context to…
The Boy: But then my super power would be revealed.
Shaba: What super power?
The Boy: Don’t worry about it.

Text message following our discussion of the Christmas gifts we’re purchasing for one another.
Shaba: Is it bigger than a breadbox?
The Boy: Oooh good question! How would I answer if one of the gifts WAS a breadbox? Also, what the fuck is a breadbox?

And later…
The Boy: I’m also gonna give you hugs and kisses and sex. These are things that can’t be purchased (reliably) on the Internet.

I heart him.

Thankful November 27, 2008

I’m thankful for:

my health and that of my family and friends,
the roof over my head, the clothes on my back and the food in my pantry; simple things that I take for granted
another year disaster free
a steady paycheck and financial security
the lessons learned
the experiences shared
the progress made
the possibility of change
fantastic friends, both near and far
family gatherings
kittens
The Boy
pumpkin pie
non stop Christmas songs
bell ringers
piggy banks
lazy days
everyday successes
every single day

and,
You.

Wish me, The Golden Child, The Boy, and The Philosopher luck today! While you’re reading this we’re running around in the cold. Pictures to follow.

Happy Thanksgiving.

A Few of Your Favorite Things (Contest!) November 26, 2008

My mom is the reason I started watching Lady O to the Prah. I remember watching Oprah with her back when Donahue was still on. We watched as her show morphed from just another talk show to the huge movement it is today. When O started her book club, my mom and I read the books together (Hi Janet Fitch? I love you.) We’d bond over episodes and hijinks. And we always, always, longed for the Favorite Things Episode. It’s definitely the best episode of the year, though apparently this year many audience members are going to be disappointed.

But back to my mom, because she loved this favorite things idea so much my mother decided that every Christmas instead of buying gifts for the other families we exchange with, we’d put together family gift baskets of our “favorite things.” Sometime the baskets are themed (snack foods, comfort items, bath stuff, etc) but most of the time it’s just a random assortment of stuff we like.

And because I’m the Queen of Indecision, I am always the last one to decide what I’m contributing.

I have lots of favorite things, don’t get me wrong, but the items I’ve thought of don’t lend themselves very well to gift baskets. Like, say, blogging. Or The Boy. Or AlexMac’s perfect retorts and acceptance of my crazy (last night I said “Kitchen dance time!” and we danced for a good five minutes in the kitchen, flailing arms and legs everywhere, there’s a video. It’s scary.) , Fresh flowers, hand delivered. My bed. Laughing. A really good book. That first bite of my favorite foods. A nice comment from a new reader. ahem, hint hint you lurkers. Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes…. See? Not really gift basket appropriate.

I was hoping that maybe some of you could offer suggestions…
What are some of your favorite things? What would you like to receive in a gift basket?
Keep in mind the object of the game is to not spend a bazillion dollars, think less than 10 bucks a pop.

As a thank you for your help, I’ll pick a random winner to receive the entire Shaba Family Gift Basket!

Thanks kids!

And When Our Powers Combine…. November 25, 2008

They form the entity that will turn your mind to pureed butterflies and powered toast man sparkles, otherwise knows as Shaba The Nineties Guru and the Mike The Nickelodeon Archivist.

Yes, dear readers, we have decided to team up again to bring you pearls of wisdom and peals of laughter and many, many, many trips down memory lane.

As Mike and I chatted over our Blog Swap posts last week our conversations started to drift to various other topics (as chats are wont to do) and in the midst of countless “do you remember” moments, we noticed something.
WE HAD THE SAME CHILDHOOD.
And we were funny. We decided that we could not keep this to ourselves. The world needed to experience this bag of awesome that is our virtual walks down memory lane.

Just because I know you’re now DYING to see what’s in store for you, here’s some gems from our gchat convos, which will be DIGITIALLY REMASTERED with BONUS FOTAGE and COMING SOON in extended uncut editions to A BLOG NEAR YOU!

Enjoy the teasers:

Mike: Salute Your Shorts, did you ever watch that one?
Shaba: AHHH! Of course! Camp Anawanna we hold you in our hearts
I dropped out of t-ball because practice was the same time as Hey! Dude
Mike: You. Are. Wonderful.

Shaba: Know what else was awesome?
Mike: What’s that?
Shaba: Pete and Pete
Mike: I’m Artie: the strongest MAN…..in the world…
Shaba: I’m not a big tattoo fan, but I could not not love a Petunia tattoo
that’d be like 100,000 points
Mike: Haha; I have two, but sadly she is not one of them
Shaba: Get on that man. You’d have a great pick up line for people our age range forever!
FOR-EV-ER
(any reference catching?)
Mike: That….would be The Sandlot

Shaba: Dude, did you have Dunkables?
Mike: Shit yeah I did
Shaba: They were so good when my taste buds weren’t fully developed.

Shaba: I heart Helga and her shrine
Mike: She could have dominated that silver fucking monkey

John Bishop, must have known what he was doing when he paired us up for blog swap oh-eight, but I’m sure he didn’t realize he’d be starting a PHENOMEON. Because this, this “Remember When____Was The Best?” thing? WILL SWEEP THE NATION.

You heard it hear first.

Now go check out the first full length post in the “Remember When___Was the Best?” series. And check back here and at The Corner Booth every Tuesdays for more 90’s memories!

I’m So Excited! I’m So Scared! November 24, 2008

I grew up in a small town. A small town with a tiny local newspaper that I spent my teen years writing a column for (this should be your first clue to the utter lack of quality). A tiny local newspaper that could contribute to Jay Leno’s headlines segment weekly.

This week? No exception.

The headlines of yesterday’s paper: “Deer Crashes Into Eatery” and “Pets Stolen”
These were front page stories people!

That’s not the best part, oh no. My favorite part of this tiny paper is the “call in and bitch” section. It has a real name, but I’m changing it to protect the innocent. In this section anyone can call in or email in a short message about anything. Anything at all. It’s a literary soapbox of sorts. One of my favorite parts is that the emailed messages are printed without editing, which means that “U” and “kno” and “thru” often appear, and serve to make me laugh and question the state of our society and education system. Normally the topics cover various school district problems, politics, and sometimes things that are so ridiculous that I have to take a picture of them with my phone.

I give you, the best message ever…

Fucking Jesse Spano! Watch out for caffeine addiction kids, it’ll get ya. You’ll be snorting lines of coffee grounds off your magnifying mirror in no time. You’ll be buying No-Doz incognito from the sketchy guy on the corner by the 7-11. One day you’ll find yourself laying in an alley, surrounded by Starbucks cups and diet pepsi max bottles and women will chide their children from staring at you and later tell them that if they don’t straighten up and go to violin lessons they’ll turn out like you—a caffeine junkie. And nobody likes a caffeine junkie. How will you ever become a neurosurgeon now?

So listen to Jessie Spano, kids, caffeine is a serious drug. Before you accept that cup of coffee from your grandma, remember, it’s easy to spiral out of control. Caffeine, not pot, is the real gateway drug.

*The More You Know* Shooting star flys across the screen.

Letter Series: Commercial Editions November 23, 2008

Dear Kelly Ripa,
I was already envious of your life. You didn’t have to rub it in with fancy dancer kitchen commericials and bewitched theme songs. Thanks for continuing the Super Woman myth. You’ve made it clear that we can hold down a job, raise a family, run a household, volunteer for charity, and do it all while dancing backwards in heels and keeping a size two figure. Also, thanks for the hint about keeping our lovers in the know about our bedroom plans by strategic meal choices. “If Mark sees me order a salad he knows he’s getting lucky, if I order filet mignon, he starts to sulk.”
Sincerely,
Girl Who Preferred Elizabeth Montgomery

Dear Glade,
Please explain to me why anyone would a) brag about the origin of their candles b) invite friends over for video yoga and c) think they could get away with scented candles as replacements for baked goods.
Also, gingerbread men should only talk in Shrek. Otherwise it’s just creepy.
Yours,
Ms. “I Got It On Sale at Target!”

PS-You should talk to the Airwick people. Tell them kangaroos are not soothed by candles.

Dear Annoying and Rude Anti-Corn Syrup Woman,
WTF? If someone said, “You must not care about what the kids eat” to me I’d be slapping a bitch not retorting with, “What do you mean?” Seriously. Also, HFCS is gross. Even if it’s made from corn.
Thank you for smoking eating corn syrup,
Shaba “Corn is For Cows” Blogger

Dear Brooke Sheilds,
Please go away. Take the talking car with you.
No love,
Me

So You Know How NEPA Is Effing Cold? November 22, 2008

Well this is gonna help.

Go sign up! Maybe you’ll be paired with me

Cool idea SaraMarie!

I Have A Secret… November 21, 2008

I’m a blog stalker.
I have 3 blogs on my reader that I never, ever post comments to. Not because I don’t like what they write, obviously I do, since I’m reading them, but because I don’t feel adequate enough to do so. That and one of them is no longer active. I read that blog like my favorite novel. I think I’ve read the archives five times. Can we say obsessed? Yes, yes we can. I feel strangely embarrassed about this, probably because not only do I feel like a loser for blog stalking, but because I read these writers and instantly feel….jealous?

Of their anonymity, of their non-anonymity, of their jobs/relationships/writing talent, of their support systems, of their blog bff’s.

And then, after I work through the hot burn of jealousy, I’m hit with a wave of shame. I hate this part of me. I feel confident in my ability most of the time. I feel happy with my life, and all it’s craziness and joy. (Hot, committed, completely wonderful lover? Check. Bright future on the cusp of a new exciting chapter? Check. Kick ass friends and family? Check. Bank account with reasonable* balance? Check. Good physical health and a grasp on reality? Check and well…check? Maybe?) My life, internet and real, is a damn good one. And really, given the chance? I wouldn’t change a thing**.

So why do I feel the need to compare myself and my life to that of imaginary*** people?
Anyone else guilty of such craziness? Please tell me I’m not the only one.

(You’re totally the only one, Shaba, you weirdo. Now go live your life and stop sucking.)

*If I can still buy groceries, I consider it “reasonable.” Christmas, you bastard, get out of my money!
**Besides maybe a bit of Dooce like fame and an extra 50 grand. And perfect hair. And a magic wand. And rice krispy treats, because they’d be SO GOOD right now.
*** For all intensive purposes, since I’ve never met them.

Interrupting Your Friday Evening November 21, 2008

To gloat.

Text from The Boy: I love you more than the Beast loves baseballs.

That, my friends, is why I love him.

Hi! I’m Crazy. Nice to Meet You. November 21, 2008

Why am I crazy you ask?

Well because I would rather run 9 miles in the cold than crush a ten year old’s dream.

Let me set up the scene for you. Six moths ago, when I had the best of intentions to follow my most recent set of resolutions “Run three times a week!” “Eat more vegetables!” “Floss regularly!” “Stop over using exclamation points!” I asked my baby brother, The Golden Child, if he wanted to run the annual Thanksgiving race with me this year.

I talked it up, telling him it’d be fun, that we could train together, how cute we’d look crossing the finish line. He was not enthused. He said, “I don’t think so,” and went back to playing guitar hero on expert while reciting his spelling words and polishing his bitty football Super Bowl trophy. We call him The Golden Child for a reason.

Then on Monday, eleven days before the race, he says, “So, we’re running together right?” Sure kid, now’s the perfect time to make that decision. No matter that the only running I’ve done recently has been from my door way to my car because NEPA is effing cold.

I say, “Do you still want to?”

He says, “If you will, I will”

Damn it.

Catch-22. If I say I don’t want to, he’ll be a sad panda. If I say I want to, I have to run NINE miles IN THE COLD.

I go with physical torture and say, “Well I guess we’re running then.”

Cut to last night. Scene: Shaba on treadmill.

0.10 miles “Ok! Let’s do this! I’ll pound out 2 miles no problem!”

0.25 miles “This isn’t so bad, I kinda remember how to do this.”

0.75 miles “This is sucky, but I’m ok.”

1.10 miles “What the hell have I gotten myself into?! Why did all the air just go away? Someone tell my shins to eff off. For the love of shoes why isn’t the fan directed appropriately! I need the cool way more than those meat heads!”

1.25 miles. “I’m gonna kill him. This is such a bad idea. I’m gonna die.”

1.50 miles “I can not believe I agreed to this. I am so out of shape. Must. Stop. Now.”

My only saving grace is that I’m planning on making us t-shirts, which will be super cute and definitely documented here post-Thanksgiving. Also I intend to play the “My little brother stopped to walk, so I’m gonna stop too because I’m a cool big sister” card. And I may have convinced The Boy to participate in the craziness with me. So I guess it won’t be too bad.

As long as it doesn’t snow.