Facebook Funnies

So, they killed Osama Bin Laden a couple of weeks ago. But instead of postulating at the possible political ramifications of this event, or discussing whether or not it was the right thing to do (it was), I am going to share some of my favorite Facebook status updates from that evening.

Here you go....….

- Chuck Norris was let loose in Pakistan today.

- I had a sneaky feeling he was hiding in Abbottabad…..

- I wish a navy seal would take out whoever is making gas prices go up.

- We might destroy two countries in the process, but if you mess    with America, we will find you.

- Somebody killed the bastard!

- I can't help but think that somehow Jack Bauer was involved.

- NBC now concludes its coverage of Obama announcing Bin Laden's death, and joins its previously scheduled programming of “That Trump Guy who Questioned Obama's Birth Certificate” in progress.

- Bin Laden's death has abruptly curtailed all discussion and coverage of an overly-hyped Royal Wedding. What an unintended, yet serendipitous consequence. A twofer!

 

I have some pretty funny friends.

That is all.

We Have a Situation

I have a confession to make.

Somehow (I'm still not sure exactly how), I have become a fan of  Jersey Shore.

I don't know how this happened!! I have always been one of the biggest critics of that show, believing that only an imbecile would enjoy watching those Italian hooligans. In fact, it was always my belief that Jersey Shore would be the reason given when God explained why he wiped out the human race.

But then I was in a group situation, where I was basically forced to watch an episode from this season. And it was funny.

So I watched another episode. That was even funnier.

And before I knew it, I was setting my DVR to record MTV every Thursday night at 10:00, and I couldn't WAIT to see what those dumb guidos and guidettes were up to next!!

My mother would surely shake her head in disappointment…..

I realize that my IQ probably drops a few points every time I watch an episode. In fact, I can feel myself getting dumber by the minute. But it's like a car wreck – AND I CAN'T LOOK AWAY!!!!

I did gain some new vocabulary words/phrases from the show, though: Grenade, GTL, Juicehead Gorilla, T-shirt Time, Smush, Lean Cuisine...... See, I got a little smarter!! Ish. Okay, no. Not really.

But we all need guilty pleasures, right?

Somebody emailed me this picture the other day:

Could not be truer.

Ghetto Wax

So, a month or so ago, a few of my friends and I were looking for something fun to do on a Saturday night. And somehow or another…….we ended up in Tinsel Town at The Hollywood Wax Museum.

Did you know that there are TWO Wax Museums in Hollywood? Yeah, me neither. Literally blocks away from one another. Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum (which I had always assumed was the only one) is probably the most renowned. Very shi shi foo foo, Hollywood sheik. These wax figures are the ones you always hear about on entertainment television shows. When one of those bad boys is commissioned, Madame Tussaud’s sends a representative out to meet with the celebrity whom the wax figurine is to be modeled after. Photographs are taken from every possible angle, and every body part (well almost every) is measured in exact detail. Some of the likenesses are truly amazing – making for quite an experience when you visit.

And theeeeeennn there's the Hollywood Wax Museum – the  bastard red-headed stepchild of wax museums. Where half of the figurines don't even come close to resembling the celebrities they are supposed to represent. And whose (supposedly) famous faces look like they have been awkwardly stuck on random department store mannequins. It's quite sad, really.

BUT, the upside to the el-cheapo statuettes is that the museum owners could care less about your interacting with them. So you can pose with and take pictures with the "celebrities," basically inserting yourself into the the display. Which makes for quite an entertaining evening.......

Here are some of the paparazzi photographs.....

This first one is my personal favorite. It personifies Rachel and her cheekiness so perfectly…..

Rachel says that I am doing the “West Side” meets “Put a Ring on it” hand sign in this next pic. I’m such a dork sometimes.

It was kinda fun rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous. Even if they were ghetto, waxy shoulders.

Phase 2

(Disclaimer: I am going to talk about “womanly” issues in this post. Reader beware.)

I recently started developing ovarian cysts. It's no big deal, really – they are actually pretty common in the general (female) public. And in my case, they also run in the family. Ovarian cysts don't affect child-bearing capabilities or anything major like that. More than anything, they are just a nuisance to deal with if one of them decides to burst because they can get pretty uncomfortable.

So, after a few months of having this intermittent discomfort (and after one particularly painful episode at work where I threw up and nearly passed out), I decided that I should probably go see my OB/GYN just to make sure that my self-diagnosis was correct.

At the appointment, I re-told my story. The doctor listened intently, nodding along with me as I listed off all my factoids. When I finished talking, she said that she agreed with the cyst diagnosis. And then she asked "Now, how old are you?"

My favorite question.

When I told her that I was 32, she replied "Ah, that explains a lot."

Eh?

She went on to explain that, as women get into their thirties, all of the symptoms that usually accompany periods begin to intensify. These symptoms include cramping, bloating, bleeding, PMS, acne – and occasionally, the development of ovarian cysts. Since I am lucky enough to have escaped experiencing most of these symptoms even in my teens and twenties, this was not exactly what I wanted to hear.

I mean, as if facial wrinkles and aching bones weren't already enough to deal with in my increasing age, now I also get to re-live my adolescence – only WORSE?

For the love....whose lame idea was THAT?!

Well, right now I am PMS-ing like you wouldn't believe. A couple days ago, I accidentally got some bleach on one of my dresses, and I wanted to murder someone. At a goodbye party later that night, I felt all awkward and so not cool; I nearly bolted out the door 10 minutes after I got there so I could go home and bawl my eyes out to some cheesy music. And yesterday at work, a needle went missing during one of my surgical cases, and I nearly had a conniption fit in the search to find it.

THIS IS NOT NORMAL BEHAVIOR FOR ME!!!!!

I have a feeling that I am not going to enjoy this new phase of life.

 

Winter Magic

(Again, I know that it is well past Holiday time. And that this blog post title is somewhat oxymoronic considering that it is 80 degrees outside right now. But still, I'm playing catch-up.)

I absolutely love the winter Holiday season, particularly Christmastime. I don't know what it is about it, but even as I have gotten older, and perhaps even a little more jaded in life, Christmas has just never seemed to lose its magic. It carries with it a vibe, an aura. A memory. Christmas means the smell of smoke-burning fireplaces on the cold night air and 24-hour-a-day Christmas music on the radio. It means pumpkin pie for breakfast. And thousands of twinkling lights on the neighborhood houses (you'll notice that I specifically said neighborhood houses, as my dad has refused to put lights up on our house for years now. Bah!) And of course, what Christmas would be complete without spending hours on end shopping?

Growing up, my family had several Christmas traditions. However, as the kids have gotten older, and the family members at home for the holidays have become fewer, many of these traditions have fallen by the wayside. Mostly due to lack of desire to expend energy. However, the one tradition that has stood the test of time is Christmas Eve dinner. I know what you're saying – "Courtney, everybody eats Christmas dinner. And a lot of people eat it on Christmas Eve like you. What makes your family tradition so different?"

Well, I'll tell you. It's all the little eccentricities that make our Christmas dinner so quintessentially Sudweeks.

First of all, my Mother hates turkey. So for Christmas dinner, we used to cook a turkey, a honeybaked ham, and then a small chicken for my Mom. But then everybody started eating her chicken, and leaving the turkey untouched. And my Mom would get totally annoyed because everyone was stealing her poultry. So the turkey part of the dinner was eventually discontinued, and the size of the chicken was upgraded. A la, turkey-less Christmas dinner.

Second of all, our side dishes are not exactly typical. They are traditional......but with a twist. Instead of yams with marshmallows on top, we have a concoction of yams and apples marinated in a sweet sauce. Instead of mashed potatoes, we have my Dad's famous cheesy scalloped potatoes. And who needs cranberry sauce when you have strawberry Jell-o (with real strawberry pieces and bananas in it)!

[Side note: This past Thanksgiving, my parents somehow forgot to buy the strawberry Jell-o. But instead of running out to the store, they decided to use whatever they had on hand. Which was watermelon and orange-flavored Jell-o (left over from when my dad could only eat non-red clear liquids prior to having a colonoscopy, I might add). Mixed together. With strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, and bananas…..

……I'm not really sure what they were thinking, but as appetizing as that may look/sound, it ended up tasting more like a jiggly, chewy Jolly Rancher. Bonus points for creativity, though.]

Thirdly, every year, WITHOUT FAIL, we burn the crescent rolls. Every. Bloody. Year. And every year, we laugh at our repeated offense and swear we won't do it again. It really takes a certain talent, if you ask me. So sad, because crescent rolls are yummy.

Lastly, Christmas dinner may as well be called Christmas dessert in our house, because that's really the main event. Every year, even if there are just a few of us at home for the holidays, we make an abundance of pies and other delectable goodies to consume. This Christmas we made three pumpkin pies, one cherry pie, one lemon meringue pie, one apple crisp, and one lemon swirl cheesecake.

That's seven desserts. For four people. Gluttony what?

After dinner, we decided to go check out the Christmas lights at a couple different San Diego spots. The first place we went was Seaport Village, which is located on San Diego Harbor. But as it was Christmas Eve, and most of the little shops with lights had closed early, there wasn't too much to see. BUT, several of the historical ships in the harbor were decorated with lights.

At this point, we decided to head to Balboa Park, another historical San Diego location with lots of beautiful architecture, museums, gardens, and theaters. I love this place. It's one of the few places from my childhood that feels unchanged and untouched, and I could spend hours just meandering through it. And at Christmastime, they usually go Christmas light crazy.

Balboa Park is actually not very far from Seaport Village – a fact that I did not realize, having not lived in that part of San Diego since I was ten. This fact was quickly pointed out to me by my mother, however, who scoffed when I asked her if I should get out the GPS. She reminded me that both she and my father had worked in that area early on in their marriage, and knew it like the back of their hands.

Okayeeee.......... Fine.

We begin driving, and my mom started playing front-seat navigator to my dad. Which worked for a little while. Until we started driving through tent cities of homeless people and being directed the wrong way down one-way streets. Apparently my mother had forgotten more than she thought since moving to North County.

Up in the front seats, my parents argued and debated. "No, we just need to find 5th street. That'll take us straight there! That way!! No – turn here!!" Blythe and I just sat there in the back seat, giggling our heads off as quietly as we could at my parents....who were so lost, but just couldn't admit it. I tell you, I felt like I was watching an episode of The Muppet Show, you know, with the two old men who are constantly bickering and mocking each other. Yeah, that was my parents trying to get themselves to Balboa Park at 10:00 at night on Christmas Eve 2010. So funny.

Finally, after about 15 minutes of this comedy act, Blythe whipped out her phone and GPS'd our destination. We got there in 3 minutes.

Haha.

Anyway, once we got there, we walked around for a bit, looking at the lights, etc. But, I would have to say that the pinnacle of the evening was sitting on Santa's lap. That's right – the big guy himself.

Blythe and I are 30 and 32, respectively. Why do you ask? ;o)

All in all, the 2010 holidays were quiet and relaxing, which was probably what we all needed anyway, since we kept catching and re-infecting each other with the flu for the whole two weeks.

That’s okay, though. Because you know how they say that the older you get, the faster time flies? Well, 2010 felt like a literal blur, and I still swear that we skipped May and September somewhere in there. So I'm sure that Christmas 2011 will be here before I know it…..with an all new set of adventures!

Halloweekend

(Note: Yes, I know that it is January 2011. And yes, I know that this is a Halloween post. But c'mon people! The holidays are a busy time! And when have I ever been punctual when it comes to blogging, huh? Anyway, here goes...)

So, typically, I am NOT a fan of Halloween. I know, Bah Humbug and all. But I find the whole occasion to be quite stressful, mostly because I hate having to think up a decent costume to wear. My creative juices just don't revolve around fashion.

This year, however, I actually had a pretty decent Halloween weekend. Friday night (October 29th), there was a huge regional YSA party/dance that I went to with a bunch of friends. My roomie, Rachel, dressed up as Snooki, and I have to say that she pretty much nailed it. Except for the bright orange hands (she got a-ONE too many spray tans in pursuit of the cause). But hey, GTL as you see fit.

As for myself, I managed to put together a makeshift sexy kitty costume (which was repeatedly mistaken for a sexy mouse costume.....idiots).

Even though the party was EXTREMELY crowded and hot, and even though I felt like I was babysitting half the time because I was surrounded by hundreds of 18-year-old twits, I actually had a pretty good time.

I give my friend, Todd, the award for most creative costume. Can you guess what he is? Can you?

A bar of soap.

I know, right? Ew. But somehow coming from Todd, it's not as offensive.

Afterwards, we all went out to Denny's for some food.

And then on the way home, I got pulled over by some power-hungry cops who claimed that they were doing so because I had tinted front windows.

Seriously?! Tinted windows? Could they even tell if my windows were tinted at that time of night? And by the way, they are NOT.

Apparently that was the only excuse they could come up with to pull me over to see if I was drunk, which totally bugs, because I wasn't even speeding or driving recklessly or anything. And they didn't even ask me if I HAD been drinking; they asked me HOW MUCH I had had to drink that night. What the?!?!

So, here is when Snarky Courtney comes out - when supposed authority figures try to attack/accuse me without justification. I was probably a little sassier with the cop than I should have been......after all, I had done NOTHING wrong. Even though I told him that I had not been drinking that night, and that I would take a breathalizer test to prove it, he still made me follow his finger back and forth until he was satisfied that I was sober. At that point, he let me go with a "warning" about my supposedly illegal tinted windows, and that was it.

To his credit, it must have looked pretty suspicious to have a 31-year-old dressed as a cat, with smeared cat makeup, driving around with a blonde bar of soap at 3 o'clock in the morning. And I guess that I would rather have him being safe than sorry when it comes to drunk drivers. But still! I felt so violated!

The next night (Saturday, October 30th), a group of us decided to go up to the Haunted Hayride at Griffith Park.

I wasn't quite sure how I was going to feel about this activity, as I really HATE being scared. In fact, my automatic reflex when something jumps out at me is to swat at it. And I was pretty sure that the Haunted Hayride people weren't going to look kindly on my physically abusing their staff.

There were about 30 people per hayride, and we were being driven around a trail which went through the old Griffith Park Zoo. There were about 8 different scary displays - with the subject matter ranging from clowns to demons to axe murderers. They had it all. And some of these displays were inside the old animal cages that used to be part of the zoo - which was both cool and creepy.

Now, I was told that the actors were not allowed to touch the riders. Which was true. But, BOY did they do everything but. They would jump onto the side of the vehicle, banging it with metal objects as they did. They stuck their heads into the center of the group, reaching for us and gruesomely yelling out our names (Yes, they were smart.....they listened to conversations going on and picked up on passengers' names......and then used them to freak us out!).

I didn't think that it was possible to both scream in horror and laugh with glee at the same time, but I did throughout the entire adventure. When it ended, I wanted to go again - which says a lot for a chicken like me.

Here are some pics from the night:

(You can see that Rachel’s hand is still a lovely shade of dark orange….hehe.)

(Waiting in line. YES, there was a 45 minute line to take a ride on some hay. Where don’t you have to wait in LA anymore?!)

(In the metal pen they herd you into right before the ride. MOO!!)

(YAY!! We actually made it on!!)

(Some of the aftermath….)

 

By the time we got to Halloween day (Sunday, October 31st), we were so pooped from our late nights of fun and debauchery, that we just sat around in our pajamas, ate pizza and ice cream, and watched "Hocus Pocus."

Just my kind of Halloween. And yes, I know that makes me old and boring. But I just don't care anymore.