I hope that reminds someone of Veggie Tales.
I know I have a Water Buffalo.
Right. So, this blog is dedicated to my seven year old daughter, Heaven Leigh, and I have called her Leigh Leigh for as long as I can remember. Heaven, she insists, is very much like her father. A little devious. “Mad Evil Genius,” he would say.
Her first devious after school act was committed curled up on a chair with a library journal with an evil little giggle. Anytime I came near her, she hid the notebook, and her end result… You know, when I saw it, I thought, it’s like a mini Adnan Osmani came up with that.
When I saw it, she laughed and laughed, but then again, so did I, laughed so hard I could hardly breathe.
Suddenly, she stops laughing and says, “Mama, you have to put this online, so you can get a million hits. You will be famous. Even more than Daddy!” I chuckle at her. Me? Famous. I don’t think so. My husband has two books and more than twenty thousand twitter followers. Me? I bounce between fifty eight and sixty two. She’s an optimist for sure. Over thirty thousand stalkers on his blog and I barely have a few hundred. Enough about who is more awesome than who (it’s me, clearly). I’m actually very proud of my husband, and who do you think pushes him all the time? Well, I wouldn’t say a push, sometimes all someone needs to succeed is a nudge- someone to believe in them when they don’t believe in themselves.
I wouldn’t even be writing a blog right now if Leigh Leigh didn’t ask me to. I’ve got to pack two children to move to London in what feels like virtually no time at all! To say I’ve been frazzled is an understatement. I can barely write my own name, let alone a blog, but I’m taking time out between laundry and other late night clean up activities to introduce to you, my seven year old, Heaven Leigh Osmani, the devious, yet adorable, Mad Evil Genius.
The part that made me laugh was her depiction of her father. Spitting image. For that I’ll get a face-palm, I’m sure.
There you have it, Leigh Leigh’s million hit Silly Blog. I love my kids so freakin’ much! I wouldn’t trade them for anything.
She really did put a lot of effort into it and used me as a spell check for some words (she, however, prides herself on knowing the difference between but and butt), colored her art work, and wrote an endearing little message. She deserves her own blog. Someday when she’s older.
Love and Growing Pains,
L & LL
This past long over-due winter break I went to Antwerp, Belgium with my husband, who was speaking at Devoxx and attending the jQuery summit online. No idea what I’m talking about? Don’t worry, in any other life, I probably wouldn’t either.
The point is Elle hit Europe, but were they ready?
We actually stayed in Ekeren, we went into the city for Devoxx, sightseeing and shopping. I decided to break the first part of this blog into Ekeren photos, because there are far too many pictures and things to blog about as it is.
Now some might judge them for how they spelled Chinese, but not me. Those girls spoke Chinese, French, Dutch, and English. Amazing. You go to a Chinese restaurant in Branson, and they act like they don’t speak Chinese or English. I love the tolerance of other people. They say that Europeans hate Americans. Maybe the Brits, I find that to be a tiny bit true. However, you have no idea how many Dutch conversations a sweet smile and a polite, “I’m sorry, I’m American” got me out of with a small chuckle an apology. It’s almost like when I get a flat, and I call roadside assistance. “I’m sorry, I’m a girl,” it works every time.
Sounds crazy, and I’m more than a little crazy, but this was one of my favorite finds of the trip. Just sitting on the shelf with all the other Barbie and Justin Bieber dolls, Knocked Up Belgian Barbie, and she even gives birth to a tiny baby. Totally creepy? Maybe, but highly hilarious. Two thumbs up.
Is this vulgar? Possibly, but it also had me rolling. It was probably the beers I’d had before that, but seeing this sign gave me a serious case of the LOLs. I found it on the side of a building in a seemingly sketch part of town.
In my neck of Ekeren, I didn’t find many actual sights per say, but I did find this lovely church and statue of Leopold II. Not the greatest guy if you lived in the Congo in the late 1800s, but the Belgians liked him well enough, I suppose.
That concludes my pictures of Markt Ekeren. I was only there a little over a week, so I didn’t do the greatest amount of exploring, and as my husband reminded me, it was a business semi vacation sort of trip. On the bright side, I finally got to finish 1984 by George Orwell, and it was just as brilliant as I imagined it to be. Not much more I could say about Ekeren. My husband would scold me for not mentioning Jump-Inn, his favorite restaurant, but as I said, it was his favorite, and this is my blog.
*insert silly winky face*
Until next time…
Love and Leopold,
I can’t rollerskate.
Not for lack of trying on my part, and it’s not like I didn’t have plenty of opportunity. Two of my little brothers and I (all three of us having birthdays in March) had skating parties thrown by our mother for four, maybe five different years. There are probably dozens of photos in undeveloped film (thank, God) of us falling and busting our butts.
Despite my lack of coordination on rollerskates, I have always wanted to be in the roller derby. The movie Whip It only increased my desire to kick some ass while wheeling around. (I’ll probably have to wait til I’m in a nursing home and riding in an electric wheelchair.) However, one of my dear friends and co-workers told me that she was considering joining the roller derby. I told her that she had to do it, so that I could live vicariously through her.
So, my gbff, DJ, and I headed to Springfield for the last meet of the year ,which happened to be for Halloween. Hit or Treat. It was pretty awesome. Not sure if it was the beers we had at Red Robin (yumm) beforehand, or the fact that a girl on the opposing team fell and broke her ankle, but we had loads of fun.
I just thought that I’d share. There will be more blogs this week than usual, because I’ve had a lot going on. I mean, this one is delayed from Halloween, and this is my busy time of year…
So , QOTN, what dream have you always had but never fulfilled? Mine would be the roller derby…and being President, but I think the likelihood of me being President is probably greater.
Love and Rollerskates,
Honestly? It’s only my second cup, and although it might be an overshare, I had to say this is the worst thing I’ve ever drank, and I once had a shot called Sex With An Alligator.
We’re almost out of sugar, and I used these alternative sweetener packets called sun crystals. This is the first time I’ve used it in coffee. I’m mostly a sweet tea girl, really. Intense doesn’t do it justice. It tastes like someone put arsenic in my cup of joe. Ugh. I’d rather have a New Jersey Turnpike. Shudders.
Java and Junk,
And I feel fine!
Seriously…what would people do without facebook? It’s now the new myspace.
A group of “Anonymous” people have gone all Bald Knobbers on their asses for selling our information to random governments all around the world. Really? Okay…
So, I can’t delete my facebook. They own me. I cannot hide.
This sounds like something my best friend, Ace would put together.
I’ll let you listen to it and tell me what you think about it?
Doesn’t that remind you of some of the Lost propaganda they had on in its earlier seasons?
I’m interested to see what will happen.
So, on a completely different topic…
What’s your favorite candy bar? I’m a Bart Simpson. Butterfinger, baby.
I know. That was random.
But where can you go after facebook conspiracy theories? It’s either 2012 predictions or candy. I went with my sweet tooth.
Love, Poprocks, and Coke…
And Bin Laden’s death.
Okay, okay, I know there’s so much evidence, but I don’t know you don’t just kill a guy and chuck him into the ocean and expect people to say it ain’t so. (Which is also one of the best Weezer songs. ❤ ) So, how many of you typed on facebook that Obama was the one who got capped? I’m eagerly waving my hand in the air right now. However, I wasn’t the only one, and at least I didn’t do it on the news.
This blergh is actually inspired by the late and great Michael Jackson.
I didn’t know Michael Jackson was a communist! I mean, Chinese, I can see that…but a communist? I thought of him as more of an Independent.
C’mon, I know the video is old and half of you have already seen it, because I’m two weeks behind on my blerghing, and I’m a loser. Actually, I prefer to say “I suck at life, but I’m wicked cool.”
But you know what I say to that? Suck it. That video is amazing, and that’s like the tenth time I’ve seen it.
Okay, so tonight a local DJ posted on his twitter that Winston Churchill was born in a ladies’ room at a dance. Which apparently many people say is true…so I took it to Snopes.
I love this site. I’ve used it in the past when I blogged about Steve Burns from Blue’s Clues, whom everyone told me was dead from a drug overdose, or when I finally got my brother to shut up about how Walt Disney’s head was in a freezer somewhere. Also, one April Fool’s Day when everyone was saying Tupac was alive.
So, I showed the DJ the link on Snopes disproving his very punny line of the evening. Although I rained on his parade, if I don’t think something is actually true about someone, I don’t want to post it. I mean, Michael Jackson is obviously a Chinese Communist, there’s no arguing that…
So, what I’m really trying to say is…what is your favorite conspiracy theory? Mine is Big Foot. Oh, he is out there. And he needs a grooming. If you see him, tell him to call me, and I’ll hook him up.
Love and Weezer,
I guess I’m a little more crab and chicken than I am cow or pig.
Maybe a little fishy.
Occasionally a shrimp.
I like the natural things in life. It’s hard to go wrong in the produce department or at the butcher’s counter. You’re seeing your ingredients for the most part. I mean, if it walks like a duck…or rather, did at one point…
Anyway, you get the picture.
My point is that I’m wary of things that have colors not found in nature. Yes, most dyes are synthetic now, which should scare me even more I suppose (did you hear the rumor that red dye gives you cancer? So, does smoking, but that hasn’t stopped me in ten years. Although, it prolly should). MY POINT IS, some natural dyes make me more wary than the synthetic ones. Some people just don’t realize what is in their food (and I won’t get started on the dyes or ingredients used in makeup, which is equally as concerning, not to mention time consuming), but when it doesn’t contain that synthetic carcinogen, what does it contain?
What can naturally make food red?
Well, let me first say that I’m not bothered by what can naturally make my food red at some stances, paprika or beets, and that’s fine, I use paprika a crap load, and I could learn to love beats. Turmeric and Saffron are other natural food dyes, and I don’t even cringe at my cheesy poofs possibly having algae in them.
No, what makes me shudder like no other is what they use for a natural red dye. It’s called “Cochineal”. It’s a fancy name for bug juice. It’s crushed up beetles. Usually females.
I know, why do women always get the axe? C’est la vie.
But mostly, I hate how the FDA regulates these things, and requires the manufacturer, because, lets face it, they’re not all farmers, butchers, and bakers…to put these long, crazy sciencey sounding words on the label under ingredients. And do you know what? Not just Americans, but I find it hard to believe that the average person, globally can understand most of these terms.
My point is that it might not stop me from eating that entire bag of synthetic Skittles (oh, but I will look twice at my jello and pasteries), but if you don’t know what you’re eating, and you’re curious. You can always use google. If you can read this insignificant blog, then obviously you have access to google. Type it in. Cochineal is actually the “plain English” for this buggy dye. . Not even the “I’m A Nerd And Speak Latin” term for it. You’d probably be looking for carminic acid.
Now, it’s not just food dyes. Don’t get me started on preservatives, or we’ll be here all day. You can just read this amazing article by Dr. Joseph Mercola. It will open your eyes to the horrors of fast food. At least McDonald’s nuggets. Which was enough for me not to want to eat there, but let me put it this way. If you can sit your food out on a shelf for more than a decade, and it doesn’t age, you have to wonder what kind of effing preservatives are in there?! (And where can I get some for my face?! just jokes.) Will it sit in your stomach and never age or go anywhere? If so, no wonder why Americans are so fat. I feel like anything that might contain Plaster of Paris, should definitely be more controlled by the FDA, sorry.
Anyway, I promise to have a happier, more uplifting blog later. It’s just that it’s rained here for nearly a week, my place of employment is currently swimming with the fishes, and I woke up in the middle of the night for my own special rant. I might even promise a more uplifting blog post in just a moment.
But what is the question of the blog/day? Okay, what is the grossest thing you’ve knowingly eaten?
Some people might say it’s when I ate the foot of a teletubby, but I’m going with the time I ate a hotdog that fell in the dirt…I used to eat anything on a dare. USED to.
I don’t want you getting any crazy ideas…I’ve left you with enough of those for tonight.
Peace, Love, and Bugs,