All about those two going at it like zebras. Or donkeys. Or both.

Hear ye, hear ye!

Have you ever wanted to see the love child between a "brawny zebra" and "sassy donkey"? Yeah, me either, but sometimes the universe gives us little gifts we didn't even know we wanted.

Things like Zonkeys. Plus corndogs. Plus reality shows about guys who make duck whistles.

But back to Zonkeys! I was alerted to this by my very informed co-worker and now I can’t, cannot, stop smiling. And the author of this little piece of literary heaven? Read every word. I bet she shook her head the entire time she wrote. Impetuous Romeo indeed. Just goes to show that true lust can’t be stopped. No fence be holding these two back from a good time. Lordy.

NEW PRESS PHOTO / SPLASH NEWS/NEW PRESS PHOTO / SPLASH NEWS

Can I also remind the world that my baby, my teeny, tiny baby, is turning one in a mere week. How can this be? Every cliche is so true. I live in some sort of time warp or matrix or Bill and Ted phone booth over here. He is the sweetest. Don't challenge me on that. I'm weepy.

Also, also, also, it's freaking Friday. Phew.

The haunted house I live in.

I'm a hundred percent convinced my house is haunted. By Howard.

Howard is the previous inhabitant of the home. The one that died here. Not anything crazy, pretty sure he was just really old. We found out while we were looking at the house but it didn't bother us. Really old people pass away all the time and for the most part it's a pretty natural thing.

Thing is, I don't think Howard likes the way we talk about him. He did some pretty random things to this home, like adhere mismatched floorboards to the wall with masking tape. Run wires from one room to another for no reason. Leave business cards lying around, bright orange ones, with just his name and no contact info. What good is that Howard?

When we find these things we mutter “Oh Howard!” Kind of.

It comes out more like, “What was up with that freaken weirdo?” Or “What the F was wrong with Howard?” Or “Do you think Howard just hung out in the basement and looked at porn all day?” No. We don't think that. He was too busy painting the bathtub. Tub, not room. Yeah.

So I think Howard is pissed. I think he feels he should get a little more respect.

I can list the ways he isn't going to get it.

-By making Phin's “sing when you pee” toilet go off at three in the morning. Keep your freaking ghost urine out of my babe's toilet you perv. Use the big potty or stop the liquids after 7pm.

-By turning the heat down to negative thirty degrees after we go to bed. If Phin wakes up screaming because he's cold one more time I'm going to get an exorcist up in here. Not just the annoying Syfy channel one with the annoying haircut. Big, scary priest. Capisce?

-By moving the mouse on my advent calendar before I wake up. Jared is trying to take credit for that, but I know he would never, ever take that away from me. He's taking heat for the ghost.

There's more, but because Howard messed with my alarm.....

Stuff I don't want to do.

This post is going to be brief. Basically it's the beginning of a list.

An opposite bucket list.

Totally inspired by the fact that I got to see body juice flying out of two different holes on my brand new nephew the other night in a way I didn't know a five day old body had the power to do. And by see I mean get completely covered in. yay.

Nobody could quit commenting on how they had never seen a baby do that before. I really wish it had stayed that way. So check it, other things I could live without.

1)      Try any food involving brains or blood. No thank you. I prefer not puking up my meal.

2)      Run a marathon. I have no aspirations. Doesn't it take hours? My interest level would totally wear off after 90 minutes. If I can't finish a game of scrabble without wandering off there is no way me and the pavement could hang for 4+. Besides, be kind to your knees, I always say. 

3)      Go to Antartica. Really? Snow? Seen it. Ice? Seen it. Polar Bears? Seen it. Untimely death do to frozen chopper blades? Don’t want to see it.

4)      Swim with dolphins. Do they bite? Or even nibble? Plus I think the whole thing is kind of sad. I don’t even want to take my kid to Marine World because the place is so depressing. Now if it just spontaneously happened if some exotic locale and wasn’t a paid for/dolphins are placed there kind of thing, that would be really cool.

5)      Meet my favorite celebrity crush. If I can't make out Michael C Hall or Ryan Gosling upon meeting what's the point? Just a handshake might be more depressing than the freaking dolphins.

And just because I can't believe this was a week ago in just a few hours, another picture of something that I didn't even know was on my bucket list. Here's big brother meeting little brother. 

Today's post is brought to you by Mel's neurotic tendencies

(If this is your print, tell me! I saved it and can't find the original source.)

The internal dialogue in my head is going at all times. Is that normal? Even as I'm typing this I can hear myself reading along, like my own little movie narrative. In fact, I'm always surprised when I hear myself on a recording because my head voice sounds so much better. Like a cross between Sarah Jessica Parker and Jennifer Aniston. All American head voice.

When I'm alone at night, my personal dialogue is completely taken over by my Dateline/48 Hours broadcaster voice. I'm always convinced that I'm in some sort of imminent danger and nights alone that danger is a break in turned murder. As I'm wandering around after Phin goes down, everything I do is part of the show.

Example: I'm doing dishes. Brain wanders. Cut to detective being interviewed. In my head.

“When we initially entered the house, there really wasn't anything striking. It was neat, dishes done. A little cluttered, but nothing you wouldn't expect from a house with a child and two full time working parents.”

Because if I'm going to imagine a detective, he's going to let me off the hook for a messy house.

Or yesterday it was,

“Upon entering the residence we were unable to move due to a large amount of cardboard boxes.”

Cut to host voice while showing picture of boxes from police file.

“Melanie's husband ran a business from his home. When he left town with orders half filled in the living room, he never imagined the role those boxes would play.”

Don't ask me what role they played. I didn't get far enough to work it out. I was distracted by the new Will Arnett show. Sorry to leave you suspended.

Actually impending doom is often the subject of a Mel daydream/day terror. Yeah, I'm switching it to day dream because that sound considerably less crazy. While I was still pumping in a closet at work I would try to imagine what I would do if a crazy student came into the lobby, shooting the place up. I worked out a whole plan on how to warn the rest of the building. And how humble I'd be when they interviewed me. So classy of me.

I'm incredibly lucky because despite this being just the tip of iceberg when it comes to the weirdness of Mel, Jared totally digs me. Actually, more because of it. Phew. Cause we would be sca-rewed if a little crazy freaked him out.

My internal self is totally telling me to hit the sack. I've been up twenty hours and am 50% convinced this post is going to make zero sense when I re read it in 6 hours. My bad. Happy Friday Eve!

A new low at work

Was there a guy in your high school that all the girls swooned over? Yeah, ours too. You can call me a total liar, but the guy featured in today's entry was never my type. I always went for the brooding, pierced guys that were too old to go to prom with me. Ohhhh, dangerous. "I love your five lip rings, want my number?" Yeah, try making out with that.

Dude was cute, but had too much sun and not enough body art for me.

Fast forward ten years. You should know it was downright painful for me to write that. Fast forward one whole decade.

It's lunch. I'm home. My laptop is open. This is the part where I see one of my friends from facebook is now following me on Pinterest, so I check out her boards. There he is, high school dude. My new follower is also following him. So I click on the guy and "Whoa, look at those sleek map pillows. Those would be awesome in Phin's room. Crap. Did I just click follow?"

Unfollow, unfollow! Do they automatically send an email? Will that have my name? Why didn't I take Jared's last name? Maybe dude won't remember who I am and think I'm just some random Pinterest human.

Then I took a breath. Sure no one likes to be caught internet stalking. It's like pooping right? We all do it but prefer no one catch us. I console myself with the fact that I haven't seen the guy in at least 5+ years and it will probably be another five until I run into him. Hopefully by then we'll both be fat and won't recognize each other.

Fast forward thirty minutes. Did that give you whiplash?

Half and hour later and I'm at my desk when I see a guy walk into the office across the hall. Not just a guy, it's the guy. I swear the universe thinks it's pretty freaking hilarious. Except, I'm not 100% convinced it's him. So I consult my co-worker. Lucky for us the office across the hall has plenty of windows to stare right through.

"R, I swear I was talking about that dude with my husband half an hour ago and I haven't seen him in at least five years." Talking about sounds so much better than stalking.
"Really?"
"I think.. I don't know. Let me pull him up on facebook. Do you think this is the same guy?" We look at the screen. We look at the guy. We look at the screen.

"I don't know, that guy on facebook looks like he's wearing makeup.." He does. Maybe it was an art thing.

At this point I'm eighty percent convinced it's the guy. I go to fill my water bottle so I can do a walk by and get a closer look. He's facing the wrong way. But I do see enough to notice he's rocking longer bangs than mine. Interesting.

We wait it out. He's turning towards the door, sure looks like him. He comes through. He smiles. He waves.

Ding! Ding! Ding! R give me a look. I give a half wave and do faux chit chat with a co worker to make it look like we weren't staring at him for the last eight minutes and comparing him to a bad facebook pic.

You should know a little bit about our office. We have two doors near my desk. One goes down the stairs, the other into a little lobby with the elevator.

He goes down the stairs.

"David you should totally have a double-decker cake.....R, did you see the wave?! It's him. I knew it! Knew it! Did you see his hair?!" I also said some other things. Things I'm too embarrassed to admit. Know it's humiliating.

And here's where R points to the lobby of the elevator and mouths, "He's still here!" What able bodied 28 your old guy doesn't take the stairs?

I did what any logical person would do. I collapsed under my desk. Laughing and crying and I'm not going to admit it out loud but maybe peeing a little bit. I'm just glad I didn't say what I almost said cause it could have been even worse. It would have been Meet the Fockers kind of cringe bad.

I don't know why it was so funny. Maybe I'm still a little sick. Maybe I'm just punch drunk and it's Friday afternoon. Either way, my boss didn't even blink an eye while I laid under my desk crying. Perhaps that's an indication of exactly what kind of employee I am. Maybe that's what should embarrass me...

Happy three day weekend all!

Oh and just for reference, here's the celeb I was drooling over in 2001. You?

Things people said to me that I kind of wish they didn't..

Yup, I could have lived without these inquiries.

“What happened to your face?”

Dude, you haven't ever had a waxing incident before? You haven't. Well if you want to keep that track record, don't try doing it while entertaining a one year old.

“Are you pregnant?”
“Are you sure?”

I don't want to use expletives in my blog. Don't ask me if I'm sure. I might be swayed.

“What happened to your face?”

Right now you're like , “Mel, I know it's late, but you already wrote that.” And my face is like, “Frick. Mel.” This time it involved a door. Also, the sign on a door. One last thing, I'm an idiot.

“Is that normal?”

All you need to know is Jared asked me this. About myself. Ooff.

And my very, very favorite...

“Is this yours?”

This was my child. Hands down, worst moment.

Not making the list, “Should he be playing with those?” “What's that smell?” “Uh, did those shrink?”

Anyone have one to share? Lay it on me. Make me feel better about myself.

And if you got nothin, let's stare at this cute little face. Always puts me in a good mood.

Proof we're still in love and interesting.

A giant fear when you go on a first date is that you won't have enough to talk about. Bringing the weather up more than once is a good indication that you should either make out or go home because the conversation isn't going any where.

Jared has told me a billion times that one of the reasons he knew he should marry me was that we went on road trip early on and never had any awkward car silence. Think billion is an exaggeration? Maybe, but he's in the other room saying right now. Over and over. And over. And sometimes he texts it to me, in his sleep. So you get that this is a big deal, right?

Well we still got it going on humans, nine very long but also incredibly fast years later.

Here are just a few of the very serious topics that only deeply in love people talk about that popped up in our car rides to and from the lake this week.

-Are famous people still famous in heaven? Conclusion - For sure. And I'll be first in line to buy heaven tickets to see Bradley Nowell.

-Did cave people sword fight for fun? Conclusion - Duh. And we pretty much know they were sent to time out in opposite sides of the cave. Don't question us, Lesco does have a BA in Anthropology.

How long will Phin's awkward stage last? Conclusion - Unknown. Mine was from about 10 to 19. Jared swears his lasted 20 years. Apparently we were married while he was still in it. So it could be really long. On the other hand, he is the most brilliant and beautiful child to have graced the earth in the last two thousand or so EVERs, so he could glide through life adorned and worshiped. Really, we can see it going either way.

Phin is not excited about the possibility of a two decade phase of awkwardness. He needed a few minutes to process.



How much do you love me? Conclusion- Really are you still asking this after nine years.

Counter conclusion- Really, did you think I changed from girl to android in the last decade. Wait. Don't answer that. We've had this conversation.

Someone, somewhere is really funny.

Someone (I like to think it's a person and not a machine) added my email to the mailing list for yacht sales.

Realllllly expensive ones.

Are there any other kind? Don't bother googling, I just did. There is one for $49,900 in Alabama. A steal.

The one that greeted me in my inbox this morning is a mere 417,000 Euros. Pshaww, the counters don't even look granite. Clearly below my tastes. And it's a 2008. I don't buy past season yachts. What would Diddy think?



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