A man's day, according to his wife

8:30 am: Go into work. Set up laptop. Taste test items in candy drawer for freshness. Log on to internet and check updates on Home Star Runner.
9:00 am: Find Fortune Magazine. Go see a man about a horse.
9:30 am: Read e-mail. Send e-mail. Update facebook profile. Watch Japanese Game Shows on YouTube.
10:00 am: Swipe Sports Illustrated. Go check out the facilities.
10:30 am: Order complete Kiss Bobblehead set online. Check e-bay listings. Play heliattack on miniclip.com. Google search "high power air soft semi-automatic rifle."
11:00 am: Grab Business 2.0. Visit with "a man named John."
11:30 am: Discuss with co-workers where to go for lunch. Go to conference room to draw out schematics and make carpool assignments.
12:00 pm: Make decision on where to go for lunch. Go to lunch. Go to the car wash. Buy 64 oz Dr. Pepper and candies to replenish candy drawer.
2:00 pm: Talk to co-workers about how full and tired you feel. Grab your iPhone. Skip to the loo.
2:30 pm: Set up office fantasy football draft party. Set food assigments.
4:00 pm: Check text messages and reply to wife's 10:00 am text. "Sorry, meetings all day. I'll call you when things slow down."
4:30 pm: Chat about the BYU game. Discuss BCS ranking. Make fun of the guy who likes BYU.
5:00 pm: Answer wife's phone call, "I'm packing up now. I just need to do a few more e-mails and I'll be home." Read e-mail. Send e-mail. Check Facebook. Watch "I gotta have more cowbell" on YouTube. Make fun of the vegan. Offer to take him to lunch to Fudruckers.
5:30 pm: Talk with co-workers about how hard the day was, and begin discussions on where to go to lunch the next day. Make fun of the guy that worked.
6:00 pm: Grab Entrepreneur Magazine, go (Asian Word). Pack up laptop and head home, with a quick stop to the QuikStop for a refill in your 64 oz Dr. Pepper.
6:30 pm: Complain to wife about how busy your day was. Get a back rub. You deserve it, babe!

Clarification

For all of you who:

-throw banana peels and apple cores out of your car windows
-wear dirty clothes
-relieve yourselves outdoors
-shower once a week
-don't flush
-eat off of dirty dishes
-forget to wash your hands
-don't iron clothes
-mooch rides off of friends
-don't cook ramen noodles before you eat them
-refuse to fertilize or mow the lawn
-farmer blow
-don't wipe

I have GREAT news! You are no longer considered lazy, cheap, or hygenically challenged. Congratulations, you are now "going green."

From all of us contributing members of society, welcome back!

Oh, wait, nevermind. You are now technically "biohazards." See ya!

Yes, I am a Nerd

Because I am who I am, and those of you who know who I am know that I am who I am, I MUST do this post.  I pre-apologize.

Parasite Spotlight:  Ascaris lumbricoides (my personal favorite; we'll call him Al)

Al is a Nematode, or an unsegmented roundworm (blah blah blah, I know, but keep reading...).  Al begins his life as a little egg.  When you ingest Al through your mouth, he gently drifts down past your esophagus into your inviting digestive tract where he hatches and becomes little larval Al.  Little adventurous larval Al burrows a teeny-tiny hole through your upper intestine to enter the fast an exciting current of your blood.  Like a fluid roller coaster, your blood wisps him past the darkest depths of your liver and inter the furthest chambers of your heart.  Adorable Al is pumped by your loving heart into your moist, delicate lung tissue.  In the nutrient rich lungs, little Al feasts and grows and molts, and feasts and grows and molts.

After three weeks of feasting and growing and molting, curious adolescent Al begins to wriggle from your lungs through the bronchioles, up your trachea, to the back of your throat.  As he reaches the summit of your epiglottis, you begin to cough him up, but in an act of selflessness, you swallow him back down into the comforts of your warm bowel.  

Al settles down in your upper intestine again, but now he grows to maturity, reaching tubular lengths up to 35 cm long.  That is longer than a foot.  It is here and now that Al begins to notice Allie, the cylindrical diva who hatched, burrowed, molted, and was choked down by his side.  Al and Allie get their unsegmented groove on, and soon Allie is producing up to 200,000 potential offspring a day, every day, for a year.  If you had a dollar for every fertilized egg Allie made in the span of one year within you, you would be seventy-three million dollars richer!  Lucky!

Al and Allie lovingly deposit their cute little baby eggs into your soft intestinal chyme, and their brave little troopers are gently shipped out of your body via BM.  To bid Al's progeny a proper farewell, and to share the parasitic love with others, you deposit them into a garden, or field, not just to fertilize your crops, but also to allow the life cycle of this marvelous creature to continue for generations to come.

I post-apologize.

But now that you have a glimpse of what goes on in my brain, let me give you an idea of what goes on in my life.  Take this next video, and change the blonde girl into a hot Asian chick, and this sums up my life...pre-children.

My Christmas Wish List

Are you wondering what to get me for Christmas?  Here is my wish list:

 I want halitosis, Lyme Disease, and Herpes.  And, if I'm lucky and stay under that mistletoe long enough, maybe I'll get Mono.

No title. Just read.

When my oldest child was almost two, she spent a day at home with my husband (her dad--just to clarify) while I went to work.

He set up a DVD for her to watch so he could take a quick shower.  He closed the bathroom door, shaved, put in contacts, brushed his teeth--the usual routine.  He then hopped in the shower and was in the middle of washing his hair when the shower curtain flew open.  Our daughter's head popped in and she said, "Hi Daddy!"

Then she said, 

"Daddy has a tail!"

I think, therefore I speak uncontrollably

I get lost in my thoughts.  Sometimes, my daydreaming becomes so real to me that I spontaneously laugh or say "Uuuugggghhh!" out loud.  I'll even say complete sentences.  It's kind of a non-offensive form of Tourette's Syndrome.  Thank goodness it mostly happens to me when I am by myself.  

One day in ninth grade, I was dressed in my gym clothes waiting for the other girls in my class to sit in their assigned spots.  As I sat there alone in the gym, I started to think about a song that I had learned in choir the year previous:

No man is an island.

No man stands alone.

Each man's joy is joy to me.

Each man's dream is my own.

We need one another,

So I will defend

Each man as my brother,

Each man as my friend.

I saw the people gather.

I heard the music start.

The song that they were singing

Was ringing in my heart.

We need one another,

So I will defend 

Each man as my brother,

Each man as my friend...

My daydream ended, and I found myself singing the song.  Loudly.  Passionately.  Then, a clap echoed within the gym.   I hesitantly looked toward the opposite end of the room.  There sat thirty ninth grade boys. . . staring at me. . . while their coach stood and gave me a standing ovation.   

One of these things is JUST LIKE the other

Do you ever think all Asians look alike?  That is because they do!  Even Asians get confused.  I'll give you two examples.

Example #1:  My brother came up behind me during lunch in high school to scare me with a big bear hug.  When he turned to see the surprised look on my face, he found himself embracing some other Asian girl that he had never met before.

Example #2:  When I was young, my family would go to Asian festivals to celebrate all of the eastern cultures and cuisine.  I ran into an Asian friend while I was there.

Me:  Hi Kathleen!

Girl:  I'm not Kathleen.

Me:  Yes you are.  It's me, [my name].  Remember me?

Girl: (blank stare)

Me:  Where is your brother?

Girl: Which one?

Me:  You have TWO brothers?

Girl:  Yes, they are over there.

Me:  Wow,  Jon-boy grew.  Where is your mom?

Girl:  She is next to them.

Me:  Huh.  She looks different.  Where is your dad? 

Girl:  He's with my mom.

At that point, I got really confused because Kathleen's dad was caucasian, and I only saw Asian men at that table.

After my odd conversation with her, it took my mom ten minutes of arguing with me until I realized that I had a conversation with a total stranger.  You think I could have figured that out on my own, but THEY LOOKED EXACTLY THE SAME!