Pop Quiz, Hot Shot!

What's more fun than sitting through three hours of church?

Sitting through three hours of church when the air conditioner is on the fritz.

P.S. It's 110 degrees today.

Okay...One More Post About Our Dog and We Officially Become THOSE People...

...but still, I couldn't resist.

This is something Daisy does to anything she can get her paws on.

This video shows her doing it to some discarded poster paper, but she regularly does it to blankets, towels, the tile in the bathroom, whatever.

We don't question it. We just giggle at the silliness.

Please to enjoy, the craziness that is Daisy:

This Post is Rated R...for Rant

An Open Letter to the People Behind Us in the Movie Theater Today Who Felt the Need to Talk (Not Whisper, mind you, TALK) During ALL of Harry Potter;

I learned a lot about you today. I see now that you are the kind of person who doesn't like to read. Fine, I don't understand you, but I respect your right to wallow in your illiteracy.

I also see that you are the kind of person who chooses to see a movie without reading the book that goes along with it first (or, for that matter, watch the preceding FIVE movies that are part of the story). I don't understand that either, but whatever.

I also found out that you have a seemingly uncontrollable need to TALK (not whisper) to the person next to you, who may or may not know any more about the storyline than you do. It seems that you have the need to do this throughout the entire movie.

Apparently it's extremely important for you to mention (during the opening credits of the movie) to your neighbor/conversation companion how Bob (whoever THAT is) "needs to get that there THX surround sound so that he can hear better." And how Bob ordered the Whisper 2000 off of the infomercial, and that seems to have helped a little. I knew right then that we would have a special, special relationship.

I also learned that you have zero patience when it comes to suspense, build up, foreshadowing, or any other cinematic device employed during the movie to keep the rest of us interested in where the plot is going. You kept asking your equally Chatty Cathy neighbor "What's going on?" "Who's that?" "Why is he crying?" "I thought he was dead." and my favorite: "Isn't this the last movie?!" Thanks for asking all those burning questions the rest of us are just too involved in the storyline to ask.

Also, double thanks go out to your partner-in-annoyingly-loud-crime for indulging your curiosity by answering EVERY SINGLE question.

Incidently, noisy neighbor, thanks for allowing me a unique insight into your IQ bracket by answering the majority of your friend's questions incorrectly!! ("No, this is not the last movie. There are at least three more.")

Also, if you see your cousin; you know, Person Who Talks On Their Cellphone/Sends Text Messages/Shines Their Cellphone Light Around the Theater During the Movie, tell them I said hi and thanks, once again, for providing a much needed distraction during the movie. I knew I was getting WAY too involved in the plot!

Thanks for all the great memories! Take care!

Much Love,

Rebekah

Enter New Information...Exit Old

I have come to the conclusion that my brain has reached maximum capacity. Any additional information that it receives will cause it to dispose of what it deems as useless old information. How do I know? Read on.

This week I have been helping my friend Jen who recently purchased a new home. We have been painting her walls. The day before yesterday, while we were there the Post Office came by to drop off her new mail key. On our way home we stopped by her mailbox to check to see if she had any mail yet.

If you don't know, most newer houses here have these neighborhood mailboxes, where all the boxes for the entire neighborhood are clustered together in a big beehive type thing. When you move in you are assigned a number and given a key. They don't put the addresses on the actual box fronts (I guess for security purposes, or something...).

They told her that her mailbox number was B-6. It wasn't. The key would not even go in the keyhole for B-6. So we stood out there in the 110 degree heat and tried every single mailbox. It ends up it was C-6. Problem solved. It only took about 10 minutes (did I mention it was 110 degrees...).

Okay, fast forward to today. I go out to do my weekly (ok monthly...) mail gathering. Now, keep in mind we have lived in this house (and had the same mailbox) for over a year. All of a sudden I could NOT remember what our mailbox number was. I racked my brain, but the information was not there! For the life of me, the only thing I could remember was B-6 and C-6. Neither of those are our mailboxes. So, for the second time in a week I stood out in the 110 degree heat and tried every stinking mailbox.

About halfway through the process I began to worry that if someone were to come along I might get arrested for mail tampering. What kind of a crazy/mentally challenged person stands out in the heat testing their key in each and every mailbox?! I didn't even have the excuse of being new to the neighborhood!

About 5 minutes and 20 mailboxes later, I started to get desperate. I began to forget which mailboxes I had already tried. I thought about calling Dan, but immediately dismissed that idea, remembering that he is the person who routinely asks me for our address and/or zip code.
Finally, just when I was ready to give up and go back inside, my key turned. Success! I looked around sheepishly, grabbed my mail, and made a quick b-line for the house.

I am glad I have my mail, but now I'm afraid to absorb any new information. I will have to relegate myself to watching VH1 and reading the Arizona Republic!! I can't afford to learn anything new. I might forget my bra size or the roads I take to get to work!!
It's tough getting old. :(


**Incidentally, later on when I relayed my harrowing experience to Dan he said "You couldn't remember our mailbox number?! That's easy: B-11."
Go figure...