Walker Texas Ranger

I really don't have too much time (or too much to say) at the moment, so I will just leave you with Two Video Tuesday.

The first one I like to call "The Boy in the Bubble." Yes, that is my full grown 28 year old brother, who is married with a child, rolling around in that plastic, air filled hamster ball. And yes- that is my mom and his wife shouting directions at them. (Because I am TOTALLY sure it is easy to hear in those COMPLETELY ENCLOSED PLASTIC BUBBLES)

**Also funny- if you listen closely, you can even hear his 6 month old baby laughing at his dad. 

The second video  I love for a number of reasons, I'm not sure what the best part of this is. I've narrowed it down to three things. 1) that my nephew is just flat out adorable. 2) that he is covered in chocolate or 3) The way that my tough guy little brother (who we just saw spinning the the hamster wheel) is so cute talking to his son.

Just to be clear....

"Anyone need me to measure anything?" 

Hawaiian Style

Little Carson doesn't just show up to have a good time. He comes to party. It took me nearly 30 years before I graced the isles of the south pacific with my presence, Carson? Nah.....he rocked Hawaii as a 2 month old baby. If this is any indication of the jet setting life this little dude is going to live...I think he and I are bound to be very close.

Hawaii in Photos. Narrated by Carson-heretofore referred to as C-dub.

"Hmmmmm I'm not sure what to think about this. That pig sure does look interesting, I can't tell if he is happy or sad. I'd be happy, he's got an apple for dinner. I never get apples."

"Yay it looks like everyone is getting naked, that usually means eating time for me. Wait, oh wait-I'm not getting fed. Mommy has some triangle things over the milkers. Maybe it is like an obsticle course or something. This could go one of two ways."

"This is DEFINITELY not what I had in mind. I didn't get fed and now they are sloshing me in this crazy gigantic bathtub, filled with sand, and fish and foam? This is nuts. Maybe if I keep my face and arms as STIFF AS POSSIBLE they will see that something is freaking me right on out!"

"Nope- they think it's cute. They keep plopping me into the sand knowing that I can't do anything it, or about the sand stuck in my diaper (hello little carson, chafe much inside that diaper?)and taking photos of it. Thank goodness Aunt Jill has the good sense not to post the photo of my bare naked baby bum covered in sand. But honestly, I think she will be broken down soon. My sandy bum is dang cute..I don't expect her to hold out much longer."

"Hey- speaking of things that are bound to happen. When do we get to do the Hookie Lau? I'm not leaving here without doing the Hookie Lau! I'm putting my sandy foot down!"

Cheers! To babies and strangers getting to know a little too much about one another.

Rise and Shout The Newest Cougar Is Out!

Ahhhhh look at how little he started! So quiet, so sweet.
A little love bug that can be best comforted by his papa! (Anyone else wig out at the thought of Jonathon, the Golden Boy, raising another human life.) He has fallen into his new responsibility quite seemlessly. Granted, he has the hardest road to hoe, balancing his family and their nutty wants and desires.

And really at some point in this life he will ask about the choice if this little beenie, and with clean hands I will be able to tell him that I had nothing to do with it......but I do find it kind of baby adorable. What a traitor I am, I know.

But check this out. He can totally take care of himself now!

Rise and shout, this cougar is out (of his mama's body, that is). He is only 3 months, almost weighs 20lbs and he is sosoooo big and squishy, and adorable. He is ticklish. especially if you rub noses with him. Giggles every time, with his big gummy, no tooth baby mouth. Have I mentioned how much I love gummy, no toothed, baby mouths? Incase I haven't....know that I am one bad decision away from snatching a baby of my very own. (Until we start dealing with dirty diapers...then I realize the folly of my baby snatching plans)

I love him so much....and he's a cougar.

So suck on that all you haters. How do you feel now? Talk trash to an infant...if you feel like you must. But last I heard, giving a baby crap about the univ that he is represents, helps the terrorists win. An angel loses her wings...and somewhere God kicks a puppy. So say what you will about BYU. Baby Jesus is watching. They'll call ahead and have the rest of the U fans save you a seat....in hell.:)

Christmas Surprises!

I have a friend who calls me periodically for no other reason than just to get a Brendan story. He is quite possibly the funniest little person ever. How things pop into his mind, I will never know.

A few months ago Brendan said to his mom, "Hey mom, You know what I want to get Auntie Jill for Christmas? One of those cans that shoots snakes out at you when you open it. That will be awesome." And so it began. The hunt, the hints, the high-ginks and the hilarity. Every few days one of the kids would call and tell me that Brendan had the best gift for me. "It will be awesome!"

Christmas morning finally rolled around and Brendan made sure that everyone was looking as I opened my gift. Maximum drama was the desired goal. And if I do say so my self, it was awesome. I'm not sure how it popped into his head or why he thought I would be the perfect recipient of the snake can. It was awesome to see how excited all of the kids were when the snakes jumped out of the tube and into my face. But, I'm pretty sure my favorite part was knowing that they had been planning and giggling about it for weeks.

And even though I don't have a video of the great surprise, it was a little bit like this....only cuter because all three kids were jumping up and down and squealing with glee at my 'shock and awe!'

Surprised Kitty - watch more funny videos

Cease and Desist All Party Planning, Immediately

This is basically everything that I never knew I always wanted. The perfect combination of most of my favorite things, TV, The Office and Clue. You can't beat that. Bummer for all the presents that came after this one...it's gunna be hard for you not to suck by comparison.

I hereby challenge any and all of you to pick a night, come over here, and make a feeble attempt to beat me at Office Clue. You won't win...but it'll be fun.....I'll try not to rub your nose in it when I whip you handily.

(Yes- it's true. I am a 31 year old woman, with a career and responsibilities ...and I am super excited about Clue. I am who I am. I've learned to embrace it)

Hey Sailor!

It's interesting growing up. I am down in San Diego today talking with my grandparents about their youth, their marriage, joining the church and nearly burning down the neighborhood. My dad is recording some stories and I am in the other room looking through pictures.

This is one of my personal favorites. My grandpa is on the left. He and his buddy are heading to get breakfast at the YMCA in Honolulu.

Probably says something about the type of granddaughter that I am, but all I want to know is who is that guy on the right? And does he have any grandsons? Seriously.

Anchors Away, indeed.

Kentucky Downer

My Grandpa Young was a pretty interesting character; a relic of a time long gone by. He was nearly twenty years my grandma's senior, and depending on whom you ask, there are various explanations for that.

Maybe it is my exaggerated little girl memory of him, but I equate him to the likes of the Rat Pack, Humphrey Bogart, Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin. He always wore a fedora or golf cap tilted just a bit to the side, carried a cane that he never really used, and had the swagger and popularity of a small time rock star. They called him Shanghai. Everyone knew Shanghai. As a child, I was shocked to see how people would hop to when you started a sentence with, "Shanghai wants you to _________." Things got done. It was crazy.

However, the most notable difference between my grandpa and the Rat Pack is the fact that he was absolutely NOT a velvety voiced crooner. In fact, he had one of the worst stuttering problems that I have ever heard. Never before or since have I heard a worse stutter. The best part of it was that the only words which came out clearly were swear words. For a good portion of my life, I thought that you were supposed to drive while waving one fist out the car window and I was never quite sure if G*dD@mnS*nofaB!tch was one word or six. Pretty funny that those words came out clear and crisp as a clamoring bell. I am still convinced that if the person driving in front of you knows that they are a "lousy sh!t," they should certainly get out of your way. My mother winced and cringed; we giggled like mad and took feverish notes.

He was the sweetest old man....if you were his grandchild or wife. Otherwise, it was kind of a gamble. That's what my grandpa was, a gamblin' man.

I am not sure what his job title was, but he did something along the lines of managing a concession company. That's how we ended up spending summers running around the clubhouse and rubbing elbows with the likes of Tommy Lasorda and Vince Scully at Dodger's Stadium, and betting on the horses at Santa Anita and Del Mar Racetrack. That's also the reason we spent many a summer hanging out outside beer stands at the LA County Fair, but that's a story for another time.

My grandparents used to let us pick our own horses. Funny thing-my grandpa would always go on a campaign of disinformation if we tried to find out who he had picked to win. Betting on the horses is not like betting on a sporting event in Vegas. You split the winnings, so he would never let us know who he had put his money on. Clever old man.

We used to have picnics on the field before the races would start. The last time I remember going to the races before he died, my cousin and I got ice cream cones. On the way out to the car, my ice cream fell off the cone. Being the chubster that I am/was.....I nearly lost it. I was busy trying to choke back a mild emotional breakdown and without even a question or a moments hesitation, my grandpa, who must have been closing in on 80 at the time, shuffled back to the field house to get me a new cone. What a devoted grandpa. I can see a lot of him in my parents and how they treat their children and grandchildren. We take care of each other.

The reason all of this came rushing back to me was because of the Kentucky Derby Debacle. I love horse racing, if for no other reason but nostalgia. The horses are absolutely amazing animals. I love that they remind me of my grandparents who are both now gone. But as I grow older, I feel myself growing a little more softhearted as to how hard the animals are pushed. I wonder whether or not it is ethical to race them at all. I don't want to start a debate, or an argument, but maybe just some discussion would be appropriate. Poor Eight Belles breaks my heart. It really has kept me up at night.

I can't help but imagine how my childhood would have been different if something like this would have happened while I was hangin' out with Shanghai at the track. In fact, that bumms me out and I refuse to think about it. I'm sure he would have protected me from seeing something so sad. But me and my grandpa, we had a great time at the track and that's good enough for me. No, that's great.

My Grandpa's Done Hard Time

Well he really hasn't, but he was on probation for the majority of my formative years. The reason I bring it up is so that you will have a better understanding of the family that I grew up in. At one point my grandpa may have fashioned a blow torch out of a bbq gas tank and started a fire that burned a good portion of the field around our houses.

Once he heard the fire truck coming, he gave the blow torch to my cousins and me so that we could hide it down the street at my house. The authorities were none too pleased with grandpa's method for weed removal.

I have compiled a short list of things that I have learned growing up a King.

1)You never have to out run a bear, you just have to out run one person.
2)Pleading ignorance is nearly as good as being innocent. (see example above)
3)If ever you find yourself scuba diving with sharks nick your buddy and swim like hell.
4a)There is such a thing as a stupid question
4b)It is my responsibility to point it out
5)Never bring up who your father is at a football game (because your dad, the coach, is likely cursing at the child of the person sitting next to you)
6)The fine art of the sucker punch
7)Card/Board games were meant for cheating

So anytime there is a torrential downpour, I sit back and wait for the comedy. I live in Southern California where weather has a tendency to cripple. School gets cancelled, meetings rescheduled, etc. Basically, life comes to a screeching halt. Flooding, power outages, panic and mayhem in the streets.

I ran out to get lunch on Friday and on my way back to school I spotted two of my favorite students walking down the sidewalk. I am always amazed that people are not more aware of their surroundings as they walk. Especially in the rain.(Perhaps my constant vigilance is a familial trait as well. It's really hard to tell. Seems akin to the chicken-egg quandary) They were just happily ditching school....without a care in the world. Just as I was busy thinking that these boys were royal pains and making a mental note to get them in trouble, a big old truck drove past them, hit the puddle that lined the street, and absolutely doused them with a wall of water. It was probably the high point of my week. I'm a bad person for it, I understand that, but I laughed for the rest of the day. I'm a King, we live for this sort of thing, it's who we are.

In Review

Drinkers....really, how do you do it? My brother, sister-in-law, Jeanie and I went to the Melting Pot Friday night. We were super excited because we had never been there before. I had every intention of eating my weight in fondue-y goodness, but that never really happened.

Well- I did eat my fair share, but the goodness factor is up for debate, for a number of reasons. The cheese was kind of a wreck because the taste of the alcohol in it made me want to gag! So, so, so very gross. I am no scientist, but the alcohol was the only thing in the mix that I don't regularly consume...and therefore, the culprit of the nasty outcome. I am, for sure, sticking with apple juice and broth when I make fondue.

The meat course was kind of suspect because they told you that the meat was to be cooked about a minute and a half-two minutes. None of us had watches, so we had to estimate. That really freaked me out. I don't enjoy playing salmonella roulette.

The dessert on the other hand.....that was DAMN good. While there were various and sundry jokes about the name, we did get The Flaming Turtle. Oh my land- it was insanely good.



We also went down to San Diego to see my grandparents. My grandpa has a 65 Chevy truck that he gave to my little brother. We have affectionately named it the Green Bean, because at some point, the truck was painted a nice shade of sea foam green. I really don't understand boys and their desire to restore old cars. I can't even begin to list all of the idiosyncrasies of the old truck, but rest assured that it is hilarious to see my dad and brother driving it. The entire trip home I was fighting the urge to call and hum the theme to Sanford and Son. Fine- once or twice I didn't completely resist the urge to do it, but it was all in good fun.

Oh and the truck has a gigantic spot light mounted right outside the drivers side window. Pretty sure it's illegal to use while driving, but it's a good time.

And I nearly got kicked out of a pet store because I asked if the dogs ever got to play or go for walks. Apparently, that pissed the worker girl off because I got several rather snippy responses. She swears that they are 'very well loved.' Poor little guys.

Santa's Dodger Blue

I've decided that this is my favorite Santa picture of all time.

My Insensitivity Knows No Bounds

As I was driving home the other day, I noticed something that I found mildly disturbing. Three of the four cars ahead of me at a red light had window stickers with some variation of, "In memory of ___" followed by the birth and death dates of a loved one.

I started to wonder if my disdain for said window stickers is insensitive, but I don't think so. They are tacky and they seem to be EVERYWHERE. My grandma passed a few months ago, and while I could not love her more, I don't forsee any window stickers in her honor....even though she was a smokin' hot babe.

I don't think she would like that anyway. And for the record, if I croak, (I don't mean to be morbid....I don't plan on it anytime soon, but just so ya know) you don't have to feel obligated to make me a window sticker. A shrinky-dink however, that'd be cool. Make me into a shrinky-dink while you are having an eggroll and diet coke and consider my memory sufficiently honored.

Anyhow-speaking of old family pictures....this is my mom.

And this super fox....
That's me. Yeah- I got it from my momma. It really blows my mind how similar we looked as kids. Pretty sure I still make that face on a regular basis. Man, I loved that dress.

If you need me in '08....

I'll be here. Where that specific 'here' is? Well, that's immaterial. Costa Rica, Thailand, any number of places in the South Pacific, the moon, I am not real picky. Long story short, I have decided that I will not be spending '08 anywhere near reality. At the moment, reality sucks. I am bummed and trying really hard to fake like I'm not....cause it's Christmas and all.

I'm over reality and heading to an island....who's with me?!

One Digit Down

The day started out normal enough. There was no hint, at all, of my digit's impending doom. My parents got suckered into going and standing on line at K-mart at o-dark thirty in an effort to secure a Wii for my nieces and nephew. They got there at about 4:30 and even though there were only about 15 people in front of them, they got no Nintendo Wii. Turns out they only had 7 to sell.

I got up with a screaming pain on the right side of my head. I had a hard time determining whether it was a toothache or an earache. I am kind of leaning toward ear ache now. Everything that I hear from the right side sounds as though it is coming to me through a tin bucket.

Anyhow- my parents went over to my brothers and I got in the shower. Knowing that I was all by myself in the house, the loud clamoring from the garage was a little unsettling. I yelled downstairs to see if it was someone who had returned for a forgotten item. No answer. Then the noise went away, so I figured I was just hearing things. But my mind was drawn back to last nights entertainment, Christmas with the Kranks, and how common holiday robberies are.

Knowing that everything in the movies is totally factual, I weighted my options and decided that I was not down for any neket ninja throw downs. I decided to quietly get out of the shower, get dressed and see what was going on in the garage. As I went to step out of the shower, I knocked the scrubby bubble automatic shower cleaner thing with my elbow, which dislodged my shower head, which fell, in slow motion, and hit me squarely on the bridge of my nose......right between the eyes. I think, perhaps, my vision may be permanently damaged. Anyhow- it did just turn out to be my mom....so there were no towel draped ninja beat downs, but I may have a black eye.

Immediately upon entering my brother's house, the mocking ensued. I went over to smack one of my brother's in-law's, and promptly kicked the corner of the couch so hard that I knocked my pinky-toe nail off. There was blood, and cursing, and now there is limping.

By my count.... Thanksgiving-4 Mi Familia-0