Last night Jono had to go to a deacon's meeting. I needed to clean, mow the lawn, shop for groceries, do laundry, and a few other odds and ends.

So, of course, I chose to invite some girls over to play Mario Party 2 on the N64. Let me tell you, that was a good old time. Elena and I are mini game screamers, and the others are more calm and collected. I think screaming is more fun, but I've always been loud. Seriously, though, what would YOU do if they were coming at you with their bumper balls to push you into the lava?

By the way, last summer at Six Flags Jono won this for me.

He is my Mario Party character of choice.

I had a little disagreement with one of the girls about Yoshi, though. Please let me know how YOU feel about it by voting in the poll.

Things That Surprise Me

1) I've been cleaning
2) I've been washing dishes
3) I've been doing laundry
4) I've mowed the lawn. Twice!
And the most shocking of all is that
5) I've been cooking

Who woulda thunk??

An Early Apology

Well, the interview with Francesca was conducted (and recorded) last night.

But, to be honest, the results were more than a little horrifying, and I'm not sure my pride can take posting the videos here. I have a feeling that Elena will make me, but we'll see what happens.

On another note, I started reading one of the books that Joanne recommended, and am very glad I did. I'm really enjoying it so far. Thanks, Joanne!

This weekend we are going back to Hutch, which is exciting. What are YOU doing this weekend?

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Years ago there was one woman who stole the hearts of Americans. She grabbed your attention by the knees (where she could reach most easily) and held on for dear life. Many thought that she would be the only thing anyone would remember about jazzercise ever again. But just as her career and complete adoration seemed to be skyrocketing, she disappeared from the public eye. Most held on to a hope that she was just working on her next big video. As time drug meaninglessly along, however, it became apparent to all that she was not coming back.


Until today.


Ladies and Gentlemen,


I am overjoyed to announce a first-time, exclusive interview with the one and only

Francesca

Coming to a computer near you very, very soon (brought to you only by Don't Know Squat).

Until then, please enjoy this rare footage of Francesca's very first workout video.

:) Have a great day

Things I Think About That Are Not Connected In Any Satisfying Way

People say that people with blogs are narcissistic. Maybe that's true, maybe it's not. The real question in my mind, though, is how one knows whether or not they are narcissistic.

Which reminds me of my brother Matt who used to say, "you always call me retarded, but how does someone know if they are retarded or not? Would you really tell me if I was?" To which I always responded, "I'm telling you right now, retard." I was a very kind child.

Do people really think that butts are cute? Or are they just cute compared to some butts? Who was the first person to talk about how cute some one's bottom was? Did that person even realize what comes out of those?

Which is less "lady like"?
1) Burping
2) Farting
3) Scratching

Do most people pay attention to library due dates? As a general rule growing up, my family did everything on time. And by "everything" I mean "hardly anything." But once I was visiting the Johnson household (this memory has stuck with me for many years) and someone mentioned their book being due the next day, and they had better finish it that night. Does everyone but me work like this, and I just never knew it?

Are there a lot of people who are afraid to touch bugs? I mean, all bugs. As a child I would pretend like I wasn't afraid of touching them. Guess who was always the one to hold the jar when "we" caught lightning bugs? And last week I asked Jono to tell me a bedtime story. He asked me what I would like to hear about. I answered "Butterflies. Wait, no. Butterflies that fly around and are pretty but don't land on you or touch you at all."
That was a great story.

True or False: Squirrels are rat demons
If you answered "false" you are a rat demon-lover

When you hear the word "demo" what do you think of? My work leads me to believe it means "demonstrate." Jono's work leads him to believe it means "demolition."
This has caused some confusion in our conversations.

Who would win, Indiana Jones or Han Solo?
Ever since Jono asked me, I've been plagued by this question.

To My Bestest Friend:

Happy first month of wedded-ness. I'm really glad I'm yours.

Thanks for being exactly who you are, because that's exactly who I love.

And thanks for loving me...even when I'm weird.

And most of all, thanks for being weird right along with me.

I'm so glad we understand each other.

Blogging From The Grave

Ever since Magen drew attention to the fact that you can schedule posts on your blog, I've been so happy. I use it a lot, even when it really serves no purpose whatsoever. Right now (Friday), for instance, I'm writing something that you will be able to read on Sunday. Saturdays post? Yeah, I wrote that just a few minutes ago.

This is wonderful for so many reasons. For one, if I have sudden bursts of creativity or imagination, I can get them all down and spread them out so that it looks like I'm creative all the time.

But ever since I knew about this I've had a more morbid thought. What if you could make it seem like you were blogging from the grave? Let's just say I set up a schedule right now that is supposed to appear in one year. Perhaps I won't die in a year, so before my time is up I schedule it for a year after that. This post could say something like, "I can't believe you threw away so much of my stuff." or "I saw that!!!!!" or "You might want to re-think your plans to skydive, unless you'd like to come visit me."

You probably think I'm terrible right now.

You're probably right.

Or, maybe in some ironic twist of mortality and karma I actually don't survive the weekend and I am, right now (on Friday) writing from beyond the grave (since you won't see this until Sunday).

Creepy.

Good thing I don't believe in jinxing myself! Right, guys?

Guys?
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Since I'm already on a somewhat morbid note, let me add that I request that everyone wear neon colored shirts to my funeral and eat a bazillion no-bake cookies in my honor. I'd like the cheapest burial possible, too.

Oh, and if you don't mind, my headstone should read:

Rachel M

Loved By Many, Killed By Robots