Sesame Street

I was looking over some photos recently. This is from my bachelorette party last June. That dress.

Those shoes.

The length of my limbs.

I am BIG BIRD.

Happy Easter!

Church wasn't fooling around today. We have been members for a year and have never seen these twinkle lights. They were quite mesmerizing!

The flowers were also very impressive!

My parents came into town to spend Easter with us. Robby couldn't go home for the day since he has his final exams this week to finish up his 2nd year of law school. We went to Easter Sunday Brunch at The Columbia Club, where we had our wedding! The spread was neverending. I tend to get overwhelmed by too much food. At one point I had a sticky bun and macaroni and cheese on my plate. I can't prioritize-

I loved the melon bunny. This bunny would be easy prey for the Honey Badger and I made quick work of the pineapple, grapes and strawberries on the fruit tray. I turned up my nose at what I call "filler fruit." Cantaloupe and honeydew melon are bogus fruits. They have no taste. They are meant to fill you up and distract you from real fruit that tastes delicious. This has been my long standing fruit theory-

The fam-

Now you didn't really think Robeghan would miss brunch, now did you?

T posed in his custom made navy blazer from a small store in his mother's hometown of McKenzie, Tennessee. He got it in college, which makes it old. He's almost 35, you see. Of course T spent most of his 20s in college, so maybe it's not really that old. Custom made blazers make one lean against bureaus and smirk. Job well done, Trinity

We could not resist posing in front of the fireplace, the backdrop for so many wedding photos!

We wrapped up the afternoon with a matinee of The Conspirator, about the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. We are history buffs, I must admit. You will not catch my family watching a movie such as Too Fast and Too Furious. We're far too classy for that. See, here we are playing in the movie arcade trying to win a grabby game while Robby clutches Twizzlers. Pure style, I think-

T Delivers Me from My Funk-

Today I was in a foul ball mood. I hate it when I do stupid things. I love this shirt. I wore it for our engagement pictures last spring. I read the care instructions, but clearly my comprehension and reasoning skills are lacking. I decided to save like $5 this afternoon and ignore the care directions. It said DRY CLEAN ONLY, which to me meant, WASH THIS IN YOUR SINK USING VICTORIA'S SECRET DELICATE LINGERIE WASH. I'm a moron. The black bled into the white and it has like water stains on it. I almost cried. I cursed to the high heavens. T tried to calm me.

Things got worse. Check out these pictures. Those are my bushes, people. I'm pretty sure they're close to dead, or are barely on life support. Judy, my Master Gardener neighbor, advised that we cut them down to like 4 inches in circumference and then see what happens.

They make me want to vomit. I hate yard work. I am probably going to spend oodles of money replacing my blouse and possibly hiring a landscape company to make my yard look more alive and less like plants from a Tim Burton movie. Lessons learned today:

* pay $5 to dry clean a blouse

* pay a higher water bill to water my shrubs when Indiana has a summer drought

T tried to perk me up since I was moping around the house claiming that I hated my clothes and my home. I tend to be a tad dramatic. I was prepared to go all Joan Crawford on those bushes when he intervened. He took me to BW3s, where I enjoyed a very large Woodchuck Cider.

Then he took me to our neighborhood Dairy Queen for a kiddie cone. It is right next to a Putt Putt course, with a kind of identical configuration as the Putt Putt/DQ compound in TH. I was immediately transported back to 1995, when I was a Dairy Queen myself. I perfected the art of the curly cue on the top of the cone. It is all in the wrist action.

When we got home he pulled up my latest favorite Youtube video. I've been working with my 1st grade students and teachers on animal research writing. I found this video while working on those plans. This is so inappropriate and has foul language. I also think it is so hilarious. My favorite line, "Thanks for the mouse, stupid!" My funk is over!!!

Germs, Mass and Freak Flags

This morning we awoke bright and early to attend Palm Sunday mass. I tried to get my janky camera to take our picture with a timer, and this is what I got on try #1. Oh, that Trinity is one funny man.

Here we are centered, with a strategically placed orb right above my little angel's head. Note that primo kitty butt in the background. She's never far from the action.

This is our beautiful church, which I find to be such a serene place.

During each mass there is an offering of a sign of peace. Everyone turns to those around and shakes hands and says "Peace be with you." As a child I loved this part and always said "Pleased to meet you."

Trinity and I turned to one another hugged and then turned to the lady behind us.

I extended my hand.

Halt!

Her hand went up in a STOP position as though she was stopping traffic. She cooly said, "I don't wish to share germs with you."

WHAT? I REPEAT, WHAT?

I must admit that this left me a bit miffed. I'm not Typhoid Mary. I want to shake your hand, lady, not lick your face. Geez.

Now here's the lesson part. I thought that she was a total weirdo, and then I pondered her predicament. We all have a "thing." Her thing is germ phobia, mine is tags and pantyhose. What would I do if it was customary in the Catholic church to turn to a neighbor and rub each other with tags and pantyhose? I would die. I would. I think it might even keep me from attending mass. I wouldn't want to offend people by saying, "I don't wish to be rubbed with your paper tags and nylon torture devices, thank you." I might avoid the situation altogether. I began to see that poor lady in a whole new light. She is forced to fly her freak flag every week, and I can keep mine hidden for the most part. Kudos to you, lady, for being brave enough to reject my germy hands and those of others every week.

My point? You can learn all kinds of lessons when you're not thinking about it. Moving on...

here is the palm frond point that somehow found its way into my right nostril 5 minutes into church due to the toddler, mmmmm I mean, husband sitting next to me. We both agreed that we had mastered the art of palm frond prodding at the ripe age of about 6. We had dueling frond/nostril jousting as he drove. Very safe. Also, I am physically incapable of removing hair from my knees, despite my shaving strokes that include vertical, horizontal, diagonal and catywampus. Gross.

We finished with brunch at Mesh, a new spot in town. I toasted my newfound tolerance with a mimosa!

Camping

This week I lost my mind and went on one of my school's outdoor education, overnight camping, I might rip my face off adventures. I spent 2 days and 2 nights away from school and away from the comforts of my home. I was in a cabin with one parent, one other teacher, and 19 5th grade girls, ranging in age from 7 years old to thirty-something(in maturity).

I spent my nights with those ladies and I slept on a bunk bed with a mattress that was blue and rubber and looked strangely similar to the toddler tumbling mats that I recall during my days of donkey kicks at the TH Gymnastics Center.

I also had a trail group of 11 mixed gendered children. That would be both 6 boys and 5 girls. I phrased that oddly. I had boys and girls. On the first day we had tons of rain and I got really wet. Even in my Green Hornet jacket, I had wet pants, socks and shoes. I didn't cry. I thought about it. Then I realized that if I cried, so would 11 other wet panted and socked juveniles. I couldn't risk that.

This was our aquatic life adventure. That's a fancy name for "go and catch a bunch of crawdads." I really missed Courtney for this. She was the Crawdad Catching Champ of 1989. The only other competitor was me. Considering I wouldn't touch them, she took the easy win.

Proof that I was there. There's my cabin. It was named "Walnut." This easily allowed me to fantasize that I was indeed Laura Ingalls, that I would one day marry Almonzo Wilder, who was totally dreamy, and be a schoolteacher in Walnut Grove.

We learned an important lesson on making a shelter and using teamwork. I clarified that TEAMWORK not only didn't have an "I" but also didn't have any "I hit my teammates with the giant sticks I am gathering" in it either.

All 5 fit in the shelter. They did great. The other 6 made another shelter. Only 3 fit in that one. I guess in an emergency they would have to duke it out over who got in. Survival of the fittest at camp, you see.

I really had a good time. My kids were great and listened well. I was glad to experience this with them, since this was my last class of 1st graders before I left the classroom and started doing all of this coaching stuff. The best part of our adventure was our Trail Guide, who had been in this country for only 2 1/2 months from Taiwan. He was a hoot. I just returned and had to explain once again that Pawnee, Indiana is a fictional place only on the NBC hit show Parks and Recreation. Trinity is convinced that is where I went to camp.

Where's My Noodle?

Our guide was difficult to understand the first day, but the kids soon adjusted to his accent. He was so enthusiastic and so much fun!!! We loved him! Here we are playing the game, "Where's my noodle?" I have a sick mind and found the name of this game to be truly hilarious-

Vintage Movie Night

We went out for a fun movie date last night. We received a wedding gift in the mail from Trinity's godparents, P.J. and Sandy. They told us to go out for a night on the town, so we did! We started out at Tavern on South, a new bar and restaurant downtown. We toasted our marriage and our friends with a little Moscato (me) and bourbon(Trinity).

T had some prime rib that was roughly the size of our cat.

It was still mooing.

He loved it.

I tried not to judge-

I enjoyed a thin crust veggie pizza and then added this pile of deliciousness to my thighs-

chocolate peanut butter molten cake.

It reminded me of the dreaded Chocolate Peanut Butter Crunch sundae that I once inhaled on nearly every shift I worked at the Dairy Queen back in '95. I quickly outgrew my shorts and then wised up on that one. I'm no dummy, people.

We ended our evening with a vintage movie showing of the 1932 flick "Law of the Sea." For 1932, it was pretty racy. Attempted rape, suicide, murder and a harlot trying to seduce her cousin's fiancee. All in black and white. We were intrigued. We also enjoyed being the youngest attendees by at least 30 years. We witnessed a 80 something year old man cheering loudly when we watched the 20 minute movie "La Cucaracha" as a surprise showing. It was the first movie made in Technicolor, according to the movie buff who was sharing his collection. I think I am going to try and work this whole "damsel in distress" angle. It totally worked in these movies.

Our Athleticism is Astounding

Last night I told T that I would like to walk in a 5K run/walk this morning to benefit my school district. He agreed to be my walking partner. As I mentioned before, I'm no runner. I got geared up wearing a t-shirt from one of my elementary schools. I was inspired to grab my own Wildcat mascot-

Then I encountered this goose in the kitchen-

wearing khaki pants.

I tried to explain that khaki pants are not appropriate for a 5K race, even if we are just walking. My husband responded that he had no warmup, athletic, jogging, nylon that swishes when you walk pants. I was startled to to realize that he was correct. How is this possible? Trinity doesn't exercise. I decided khakis were better than nothing, so off we went.

We were serious mall walkers. T had some memorable quotes along the route:

"Betsy, I haven't stretched properly. What if I cramp up? Will you go get me a banana so I can continue?"

"Betsy, I'm parched. Where is the water station?" This one was stated as I finally convinced him to pass a mother with a stroller (not a jogging stroller.)

We did some jogging, which was actually funny to see since he was wearing pressed khakis. We ended the race by running a lap around the track at the high school. T picked up speed here, running alongside me while telling me about his role as a member of the 2 mile relay team in high school.

We finished with a paper cup full of Vitamin water. Thank God. We needed to replace all of those lost electrolytes. Now we're headed to Dick's for some swishy pants.

Oh Jillian, I hate you!

I must just loathe my own self. Otherwise, why in the world would I ever choose to spend 25 minutes a day with this crazy wench?

disclaimer: This is not me.

Jillian is straight up crazy time. I'm not altogether convinced that she isn't a man. I've said it before, I'll say it again. I believe that Jillian is a man, and Bob is really a woman. Just my opinion after years of watching The Biggest Loser.

Jillian's gender is actual irrelevant. What is relevant is my desire to do the tighten up, and get things back into gear. It is nearing summer and my Puerto Rican adventure, and I'd prefer to look good. I am no fan of ze cardio exercises. I do yoga and pilates, and that keeps things fine. Plus, I love it! What I do not love is running and training for the mini -marathon like every other person in Indianapolis. I'd rather stick my finger in my eye repeatedly. When I'm done I'd rather stick your finger in my eye repeatedly.

That being said, I can do Jillian and her videos. They are quick bursts of energy, and I can do anything for 25 minutes. Except eat a cupcake. That takes approximately 48 seconds. I have a long history of Shredding with Jillian. I'm ready for a change. I have ordered "Ripped in 30." Say that in a man voice and wish me luck.

A Short Trip to the Inlaws

Trinity and I went for a quick little over night visit to see his parents in Kentucky. We had a wonderful time, but I didn't do a very good job taking pictures. I only got a couple at their house. We arrived Saturday afternoon and enjoyed many margaritas outside on their patio. Eddie grilled out and then we watched our Butler Bulldogs beat that Virginia team.

I say "our Butler" but I'm totally just one of those Good Time Charlies who just jumps on the bandwagon when someone wins. There, I admit it, unlike a lot of other citizens of Indianapolis! Butler is a beautiful campus here in Indy, and I had several friends from high school who went there, so I'm thrilled to see their success.

We also visited with Charlotte and Trevor. We had an impromptu karaoke session with tunes from youtube. I wowed the crowd with oldies from Neil Diamond, The Supremes and the Shirelles. I then launched into 2 solos from Carole King's album, Tapestry. This is my all time favorite album. If you don't know it, get it. You heard about its awesomeness here first, not in 1971 when it first debuted. I'm totally hip to new trends:)

We had key lime pie, complete with bunny heads.

Only at my mother-in-law's house could one indulge in such a treat.

She likes the little touches. I totally love it.

We left Sunday afternoon and stopped at Old Fort Harrod state park. We had ourselves a little picnic, packed by Pat.

Then we toured all of the replicas of the fort and settlement. I had T photog this amazing tree. I'm in there somewhere. Can you find me? Hint-I'm not the man on the right-

Please excuse my Carmela Soprano outfit. They are my traveling clothes.

Inside this chapel was the actual cabin where Abraham Lincoln's parents were married. That was cool. I got hot and had to shed my top layer.

I got to work in the wood working cabin. I felt like I was a on a field trip, minus a bunch of annoying kids. The little work bench provided a chance for me to mess with triangles of plywood. I'm sure that they were original to the settlement of Kentucky. Plus, check out the craftsmanship of that beautiful metallic leather bag that the fort tanner made. I felt so lucky to stumble across such a fashionable relic, so I took it. I jest, it was my bag.

Here is T in front of the Lincolns' marital cabin. I think it is the exact same size as our house. T loved it. He mentioned that the most amazing thing was that the cabin had actual lights way back then. He is so witty, you know. We all know Abe learned to read by candlelight, which probably was totally unfulfilling in every way. First, it would have strained his eyes, and second he didn't get the amazing chance to learn how to read from a fun schoolteacher such as me.

This was the meat preservation trough. Yuck. I believe that this has been replaced by the modern Frigidaire.

What are ewe looking at?

I leave you with a pun. You're welcome.

Funny Pics

Today is the last official week day of my spring break vacation, and I have very little material with which to work today. I was browsing my iPhoto on my puter, and I found several pictures that made me laugh out loud, or LOL as young whippersnappers like to say these days. Here are some ridiculous shots, in no particular order:

Moi in mid speech. I fear this is really just what I look like.

Bachelorette party, June 2010

I caught the bouquet at Craig and Shelli's wedding. I was plotting to marry the fool to whom I am married now. He caught the garter. This was not planned at all.

September 2008

Unleashing my inner cowgirl. Giddy up, fools!

Denver, March 2009

T in a hammock. I love his face. He looks dead.

September, 2008

Jamie, Court and I at A's bachelorette party. I attempted something with photo editing, and was never able to right my wrong. It was a great picture, and I ruined it. I think it's hilarious that I look like Spud McKenzie.

June, 2009

Pole dancing in KDub's basement. I donned her daughter's former recital attire. It was kind of snug. This was a children's play date, and surprisingly, there was no alcohol involved.

3 years ago, I think-

Virginia beach, in the hull of a yacht. That's like saying in the basement of The Alamo. Much alcohol involved. T is literally holding me up.

June, 2008.

London, the Tower Bridge. I'm never one to resist a face hole.

June, 2007.

Sass. Post bender. Beyond hilarious.

date unknown-definitely taken in the decade that I have owned her, 2001-2011

Kate in Chicago. I am Sasquatch.

June, 2008

Self portrait. Christmas 2008. This is when I was stuck in an ice storm on I-70 for 9 hours, sitting still. My forlorn look is priceless. This was taken mere minutes prior to eating that entire tin of gourmet popcorn behind me and then peeing in a child's size Camelback bottle. Yes, friends, a woman can pee into a bottle. I did it and lived to tell about it. 10 points for Betsy's urethra control!

Tara inspecting my throat. I have no idea why.

November 2008

MacNiven's Bar, downtown Indy, about a week after returning from our honeymoon. My angst over being married is evident.

August, 2010.

I hope you enjoyed all of these sillies:)