Crazybananas

It’s snowing.

Again.

And so, I made a playlist to listen to while I watch these giant flakes fall outside my window. Enjoy. Then go book yourself a vacation someplace warm. Do it for me.

(Music props to @kuirishgirlie and @TrustTheDust…without their daily Blips I’d find it very hard to get through the day)

Apparently this is what happens when you wait three years to return somewhere. Your kid grows in to a giant.

(See my previous post for the original photo, and to see how different the light is in Boulder in the summer…so warm!)

We’re back from Colorado and work has swallowed us whole. When I have a chance to come up for air, I’ll post some more pictures and a full explanation of why three somewhat intoxicated family members tried (unsuccessfully) to teach me to play card games. And how Trent apparently has magical powers. The two are mildly related.

The last time the Peters fam visited our dear sister and brother-in-law in Colorado, we took our baby to the park.

And, well, yeah. That was obviously A LONG TIME AGO.

It was back when I used to think that photos taken at an angle were “artsy” and I totally overused my Photoshop smoother action.

Dear Allison and Steve (and Lucy),

Sorry I thought things looked better crooked. They just look strange. And also, sorry for making you look all glowy and slightly creepy. I thought it was pretty. I was a dumb blonde. I’ll do better next time.

Sorrowfully yours,
Megan

We’re headed back to Boulder for some R&R, possibly some snowboarding (with minimal injury), and good ole’ quality family time. We couldn’t be more excited!

And I promise to hold my camera straight this trip.

Oi vey.

A few weeks ago, Trent and I were sitting in our kitchen, having a nice Sunday brunch after a VERY rare instance of the whole family sleeping in. Lucy was running around in a tutu or something, and we sat at the table reading newspapers, checking Twitter, discussing the world issues of the day. Until, all of a sudden, this happened:

And yes, I tweeted it. Because, SERIOUSLY?! A zombie action plan?! And then:

Now this is where things get a little hairy. I had a couple of responses via Twitter on the hilarity of the zombie action plan (ZAP?), including one from a sorta-web-famous blogger. When I told Trent about the response, he immediately went to Twitter to see what I’d posted…and then sorta got mad. Ish. Not like, I-wanna-divorce-you-mad, but more like gah-what-the-hell-is-your-problem-woman-mad. Because, let’s face it, I’m an exaggerator. I strech the truth a teeny bit. Or a lot. Depends on what’s funnier. And everyone who knows me knows that it’s just a fact of life. If you do something funny around me, the story will be retold and I will probably make you sound ten feet tall. It’s what I do. I do it here on this website, I do it on Twitter, I do it in real life (have I ever told you how a friend of mine really thought my mom was the CEO of QVC because I used to kiddingly call her that…yeah). So, in order to appease the gods of marital bliss, I posted this:

And that is TOTALLY true.

P.S. In the days following this heated exchange, we received two books on how to survive the zombie apocolypse from Amazon. I swear.

P.P.S. In the spirit of honestly I must tell you something. I have not, nor have I ever had the chance to go to outer space. And my dad never worked for NASA. Wow, that felt good.

P.P.P.S. Technically my dad worked for a state-run program that had a NASA grant. And he was in zero gravity doing experiments. Just not outer space. I never was, because I am lame. He is, in fact, a rock star.

P.P.P.P.S. The plane my dad took to zero gravity is called the “Vomit Comit.” I just think that’s an interesting fact.

The End.

Fin.

Goodbye.

Ciao.

Adios.

A few weeks ago my adorable friend Abbie asked me to do her a favor. She wanted me to make her a few CDs of my favorite music. Now, I’m not sure if you heard me “squeeeeee”-ing from wherever you may be, but trust, the pitch could’ve broken a glass. Now my dear, lovely Abbie and I have very, very different taste. She’s conservative, I’m liberal. She loves (LOVES) her K-State Wildcats, I’m a Jayhawk through and through. She thinks that jumpsuits are appropriate to wear out and about, I think they would make it very difficult to go to the bathroom. Et cetera. But one place where were differ more than most is in our music taste.

In short, I’m kind of a snob. I like indie rock, indie rap, indie hip hop….do you see a trend. I am the definition of an a-hole hipster when it comes to music (although, most of my friends who like the same type of music know WAY more than I do and make me feel like I’m listening to Nickelback or something), and Abbie? Well, Abbie’s more mainstream. Now, we do cross paths here and there. Let me demonstrate with a simple Venn Diagram:

So, well, you can see my dilemna. But now. NOW! Miss Abbie now has, in her possession, TWO CDs filled with nothing but indie rock. And one CD of songs from Glee. But that’s neither here nor there. The point is, at this very moment, Abbie may be listening to The XX, and her mind may be completely blown.

Or….she just switched back to some song by a band that rhymes the word love with the word….love. I choose to believe the former, for my own personal sanity.

See, I told you I’m a snob.