Michelle writes in stereotypical pink.
Max writes in stereotypical blue.
But don't get it twisted. We are not stereotypical.

Monday, December 27, 2010

"Do you know what time it is?!"

Forgive us for lagging in the posts, y'all. It's the holidays (Happy Holidays! I hope all your wishes came true!), Max just graduated (woooohoooo!), and we're now in separate parts of the country visiting family. However, before we left, something happened that I wanted to share with you.

Most people don't decide to go into Starbucks in 30 degree weather and order an iced-coffee. So what can you do if it's freezing and you want a cold drink? Well, Max recently had an epiphany about that particular dilemma.

Here is our exact conversation: 

"Do you know what time it is!"
"Tool time?"
"Nooo..."
"Time for you to get a watch??"
"Nooo..."
"T-shirt time???"
"Nooo...  HOT SHOWER, COLD BEER TIME!"    

Max endorses this product
Oh god. This could be dangerous. 

While we're on the topic of booze, I should probably tell you about Napa. Who knew it was only an hour away from the city! We went on a dark, rainy day while Max's parents were visiting and they took us to a castle winery

There were sheep, skeletons, a dungeon and a torture chamber. Yes! Oh, and wine!
Before the tour, Baby Max got sick and although I was supportive for the duration of his sickness, held his hand and let him know it was okay to say no to the tour, in my head I was saying, "Don't do this to me. You need to get better so I can see the freakin castle!" Thankfully, his sickness cleared while on the tour and we were able to enjoy the deeeelicious wine at the end. Take it from someone who is not classy enough to like wine: this was amazing. They even host holiday parties throughout the year. Who wants to come with us?! 

Hot shower, cold beer is probably the best invention ever. It has served me well on many a cold day. Speaking of a cold day, the castle was freaking awesome. They have a room where you can hear whispers from all the way on the other end of the room. The torture chamber was great and gave me many ideas in case anyone disrupted my hot shower/cold beer time. mwuhahahaha

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Sleep Deprivation: Gender Differences

So everyone handles sleep differently, which I have gotten a crash course in since moving in with my lady. The past couple weeks have really tested both HGITW and I in the realm of withholding sleep (her due to work and I due to school). Some people can go long periods without sleep. Nope, not us. HGITW and I handle sleep very, very differently. After being up for about 24 hours in a row, my skin glows green and my eyes turn red. Basically, I begin to go Hulk Smash on any comment directed at me that has even a hint of criticism or sarcasm. Even that weirdo on the bus is sure to get a double dose of the evil eye and a invitation for a round of fisticuffs if he dares talks to himself again in my presence. 
This is what I look like:

HGITW does not do this. She doesn't become particularly upset at little things or picks fights. Instead, she becomes bat-shit crazy. Now, I'm not talking about being so tired that things become hazy and you feel like you are in a dream. I am talking about detention in a facility for the mentally insane. That type of crazy. Strings of words and sentences come out of her mouth that should never go together. Her eyes flip back into her head and I'm pretty sure some 4th dimension devil baby takes hold of her. Then when she finally does sleep, she wakes me up to pearls of wisdom such as "get off the regular personnel blog". When I ask her what the hell that means, she says "oh forget it", then falls back asleep. She has no recollection in the morning that this ever happened. The best part about this is that she said "oh forget it" when she tries to explain to me what it means. Oh forget it, you obviously don't know anything about regular personnel blogs, duh, geez. I probably could make a whole separate blog about the ridiculous things that she says while sleeping. I can't judge her too badly though because I have been known to be a night babbler from time to time also. 

Not cool, Max.-Not cool!-Way over-exaggerating here, guys.-Do not believe what you are reading. 
Max loves it when I don't get sleep. Loves. When I get exhausted, I want attention and affection. And he feels appreciated. I start calling him "honey" and talking in a sleepy voice, and he thinks it is sooo cute. It's one of the only times that I am mostly calm and sweet, and he's even told me I should get less sleep more often. But ya know what, Max? If you want to say that I get all bat-shit crazy, I'm going to take that as a challenge! It's on, bucko. 

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Pfft no relationshiz today. Only this amazing thing called KARAOKE!

I'm sorry if you came to this site today expecting to read some outrageous things Max did. We have separate lives sometimes, and mine just happens to be on the internet. I'm cool, I know. I signed up for a karaoke blog ring. What's that? It's where a bunch of cool kids 20-somethings sign up to post a video of themselves doing karaoke on another blogger's site. This month's theme was Show Tunes. To see my rendition of Part of Your World, check out super cool Erin's site at The Post Modern Talk-O who JUST moved to Paris. Love her.

Now here's your treat. I get to host December's blogger of the month: the real Mandy Moore. Not the so-called actress but the real-life hottie. (<--I wanted to let you know that my spell-check thinks "hottie" should be spelled "hogtie." Waaaay different! Although some sickos people may indeed want to hogtie that hottie.) 
With that, I think I'll turn it over to her!

-----------------------Mandy---------->

Before I'm officially ousted as the Karaoke Ring Cheater, I'd just like to say this:

People. I understand we don't all celebrate the Christmas. But we do have other Holiday songs. I know, because I sung some back in high school chorus before I got too cool. Why the hell, did we vote to do showtunes in December?

I'll be completely blunt and honest (because that's me). I am not nearly cultured enough to have ever seen a show, let alone know a damn thing about showtunes. I mean, look who you're dealing with here. I consulted with Google, and I couldn't even pretend to know Rent, or Cats, or that little Annie chick. Unless you wanted the Jay-Z version of "It's a Hard Knock Life," it wasn't happening.

So I selected Showtunes as the genre in "iTunes" heh. And but alas! It said the music from Dirty Dancing was within the showtune genre! Now whether or not you agree with this, it's whatever. Take it up with them. It was either this or the Gilligan's Island theme song or nothing. BUT, you guys thought I couldn't sing last time because my computer fritzed and you couldn't hear anything and I had to dub the music in later and it was horrendous and...yeah. This time, I decided to sit right here in front of the screen and mic with no dancing, and no kidding if I didn't do 24 takes before settling on this one because it was the most decent of the 24 and by the end I was so tired and mad, I just gave up. But whatdoyaknow? I still can't sing.

If anyone knows how to fix a broken laptop mic and/or speakers, (because, who do you think I am, Bill Gates?) get at me. Otherwise for sanity and not embarassment's sake, I'm going to have to disappear from this ring forever. Or until I get a new computer.

Which could be years.

Anyway, check out my very special Nipocalypse Pal, Miss Ginntastic on my blog! You can call her Gin for short. Duh.



Thanks for entertaining our efforts, folks. And thanks, Risha for putting this together!

Monday, December 6, 2010

RIP Fiona Walzenbach

It all started on a sunny San Francisco summer day; last summer to be precise. HGITW (refer to post 1) comes over to my crib with a surprise. She had brought two newts. We had talked about raising some love-children (of the animal nature) and the choice was frogs but I had forgotten completely about our talk with the frogs (the first time that it has ever happened. I have an impeccable memory. Ask me about that one time...I bet I know exactly what you're talking about). We decided to raise them. The first order of business was naming the slimy rug rats so I decided on Murphy and HGITW decided on Fiona (She has a strange fascination with names that sound out of a fairytale, sorry all you Fiona's out there). 

So everything was going swell in newt-land except the little rebel Fi wouldn't eat. Murph ate like a champ because hes mah boy and he kept growing big and probably is Godzilla's midget cousin but Fi didn't eat. She never ate. The first time we saw her eat was a couple of days ago when HGITW fed her. She ate like crazy. Then BAM, she is belly up as cold as the rocks that surrounded her. We asked the newt coroner but they only concluded that she overate...and her little stomach wasn't up to it. It was a sad day, but we said our good byes and moved on. Correction: Max said his goodbyes and flushed her before I could even properly look at her through the waterfall of tears streaming out of my face because our love newt died, which implies our love will die. It was obviously a much more symbolic meaning for me than for him. Jerk. Murph is doing well, chillin on the rocks and being king of the castle. I wish I had a picture of Fi, but she was way camera shy, and generally hated the paparazzi, which is weird for a newt.