Setting the mood.

This song should NEVER be played on ANYONE'S morning commute to work.  Especially on days when it is gloomy and rainy and you can not drag yourself out of bed, so you hit the snooze FOUR times and then had to rush yourself so that you're not super late for work and your hair looks like a wreck.  And since you couldn't drag yourself out of bed, you didn't have time to stop at Starbucks for a latte.  And since you didn't have time to stop at Starbucks for a latte, you are drinking water from your water bottle from yesterday that is luke warm and wait, this water bottle is from yesterday, right??



On the contrary, THIS song should ALWAYS be played on a morning commute to work.  Especially when the sun is shining, and you're having a really great hair day.  And you also got moving and grooving this morning because you went to bed at 8:00 the night before because you knew that you wanted to have a good hair day.  Since you got up and going so quickly instead of hitting the snooze three times, you had PLENTY of time to put on your sunglasses and drive to Starbucks for a special treat... AND a bottle of FRESH, UNOPENED water!!!  And guess what else!  You walked into the office at 8:01 instead of 8:14!!!  Win.

Needless to say, the music that I hear on my morning commute to work OBVIOUSLY has an influence on my day.  Some days are better than others. 

For all of you who are wondering: yes.  I do sing very loudly as I bop my head and smile and look into other car's windows as I am using my phone as a microphone and imagining myself performing on stage singing along to the radio.

Job description.

On Friday night, Peter and I went to dinner with our friends Craig and Katie. The waiter was super talky talky talky, and when we finally placed our order, he came back to the table.


Waiter: So, we're having a competition amongst the servers, and it's to see who can find the table with the most interesting fact.

Someone at the table: Well, what kind of fact are you looking for?

Waiter: See that lady over there? She can sing "Happy Birthday" in Japanese.

Sara: *whispers to Peter* I could totally win this with my job.

Peter: *not whispering* Say it.

Sara: *sigh* I have an interesting fact. And you will win.

Waiter: Ok! Go!

Sara: I'm in international sales.

Waiter: ...

Sara: I coordinate shipments to various parts of the world. Shipments of dairy and beef bull semen.

Waiter: ... Let me go tell my manager.


He won. But we didn't get any free dessert or anything.


And now you all know what I do. It's a fun fact that you can tell your friends.  And then win prizes (hopefully you won't get jipped like we did).


Now let's all get our giggles out because I sell semen and move on with our lives.

FYI: The world is ending tomorrow.

So.  It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine.


Confession: I actually am NOT fine with the world ending tomorrow.  


Reasons I am not ok with this whole "world-end" thing:

• I just ordered new jeans online, and they're not supposed to arrive until NEXT WEEK.
• There is a little person growing in Jenna's womb, and I really would like to know if it is a girl or a boy.
• I would like to have the opportunity to get to know said child in womb.
• Taylor is graduating high school, and at the party we're having a pig roast, and I just love pig roasts.
• There are a lot of weddings going on this summer that I/Peter was invited to, and one of my top 25 favorite things to do it attend weddings.
• I still didn't print the pictures to put in the frames that are hanging empty above my couch.
• I'd really like to know what it feels like to not have any car payments (... that won't be for like 5 years or something).
• I need to see the FINAL PART of Harry Potter.
• I haven't met a celebrity.
• I don't have a Twitter.
• And the most important reason: I want need to know what Peter is getting me for my birthday that is in 38 days.

Phone conversation with Peter about the world ending:

Peter: So did you know the world is ending tomorrow?


Sara: Yeah.


Peter: Ok.  Yeah.  The world is ending tomorrow.


Sara: So, what are we going to do tonight?  Something exciting since the world is ending tomorrow?


Peter: Well, we can go out to dinner?


Sara: That's IT?  That's ALL we're doing and the world is ENDING tomorrow?


Peter: Well, what do you want to do, rob a bank or something?


Sara: YES.


Peter: We can get ice cream after dinner.


Sara: YES.  OK.


Peter: What else are we going to do?


Sara: I don't want to think about it right this second.  I'll see you later.


*click*


Here's to hoping that wasn't one of the last conversations I'll ever have!

Wizardry

On the phone.  May 17, 2011.


Peter: So when I was leaving work today, I got into the parking lot, and there were these guys there with flamethrowers-


Sara: Flamethrowers?!?


Peter: Flamethrowers!!  And all these jackhammers and machines.  They were laying down asphalt in the company parking lot, and I was thinking, 'How am I supposed to get out of here??'  I didn't know what to do!!


Sara: Well, what did you do?


Peter: I-


Sara: Did you take out your wand and say 'leviate'??  And then lift your car across the parking lot onto the road????  (I said that in a British accent)


Peter: Yes.


...


Peter: Actually, I just sat in my car for like 10 minutes and waited for them to be done and let me through.


Sara: Oh.


FYI: After a little Google searching, I think that the spell I was looking for was Wingardium Leviosa.   Check out this awesome website I found!!

In other news, this morning when I was brushing my teeth with my electric toothbrush, I don't know what I was thinking, but I started drooling or something, and so I took the toothbrush out of my mouth.


When it was still on.  


And then I changed my shirt and was late for work because I was busy getting the toothpaste off my face and out of my hair.  I had on a button down shirt with a vest thing over.  I just changed the bottom shirt.


And guess what?  When I was running to my car, I noticed that surprise!  There's toothpaste spattered all over my vest too.


Awesome.

Confession.

Yesterday I was talking on the phone with Adrianna.  We started talking about the blog post that I wrote on Sunday.  She liked it (Adrianna, for those of you who don't know, is hard to please).  Then, she started laughing.  She started laughing really hard.  

Sara: What the heck is so funny?

Adrianna: Well, when I was reading about how you were choking on the strawberry lemonade, I remembered the time that you swallowed a Lego.  How did that happen again?  Tell me THAT story.

I didn't think it would come to this.  But here I go.

Confession: I, Sara Jane Vanderstappen, have swallowed a lego.  But it happened a looooong time ago.

It happened in the summer.

Of 2009.

Flashback: Summer of 2009.  Job title: Nanny.  Job description: Star Wars, water balloons, and Legos.

One of the three lucky families that I nannied for that summer had a boy that liked Legos.  Excuse me, ADORED Legos.  Let me tell you.  I am can build some AWESOME stuff with Legos.  

Anyways, sometimes I got REALLY bored building all those awesome Lego things.  And so then I would just kind of, chew on the Lego blocks.  Irresponsible, I know.  Especially because when ANY kid would put ANYTHING in their mouth besides food, I would be like, "HEY!  KID!!  Get that OUT of your mouth RIGHT now, otherwise you will CHOKE and DIE, and THEN I will be out of WORK, and I am TRYING to save up so that I can move to a foreign country AWAY from you MONGRELS."  So I would put bacteria infested Legos in my own mouth instead.  The things we do when we are young and stupid.

I don't know how it happened.  Did I inhale too quickly to fill my lungs with air to yell at a child?  Did I start laughing and gasped for air to continue with this joyous laughter?  Did I just need a deep breath of air?  I still don't know.  But it all happened so fast.

All of a sudden, I was coughing, and trying to cough up this Lego bit.  But alas, it was already too late.  I had swallowed the Lego.  

And I swore, right then and there that I would never, EVER in my ENTIRE life tell ANYONE about the time I swallowed a Lego.

Then Adrianna called me and was having a bad day, so I told her my story and it cheered her up.

And now I'm telling the whole world.

For the record, I never saw this:

For the other record, THIS was the Lego piece that I swallowed:

What?  OHMYGOD.  Did you think it was like, THIS or something??

THAT would have been AWFUL.

Somehow this post went from strawberry lemonade to puppies. Huh.

Sometimes I wish I carried a voice recorder in my purse so that I could secretly record the conversations that Peter and I have when we go out to dinner.  Friday night was such a night.   Unfortunately for you, I don't really remember what was so fricking hilarious at dinner on Friday night, so.  Sorry about that one.  But I assure you, Peter and I are fricking hilarious. 


The Easter bunny left me a $25 gift card that could be used at a number of restaurants, and Peter and I chose to go to a place called Longhorn Steakhouse.  Neither of us had ever been, and we figured, hey.  Why not?  So, we went.  


It's a pretty nice place with really great food.  Like, REALLY great food.  As in, stuff yourself past the limit of full, but then KEEP EATING when someone (coughPETERcough) says, "No.  We are GETTING dessert.  And you will EAT IT.  And LIKE it."  Even as I'm sitting across the booth from him saying how I'm going to DIE because I'm SO FULL and how I need to LAY DOWN because OMGOODNESS my stomach is going to LITERALLY explode.


Peter just couldn't figure out why I was SO FULL.  I figured it out quite quickly.  


On the beverage menu, they had strawberry lemonade.  I LOVE strawberry lemonade, but I don't drink it often because of a little incident that happened like OVER 2 years ago I think?  Of course, Peter would be there.  And of COURSE he would bring it up every time I'm even thinking about getting strawberry lemonade....


Flashback: Over 2 years or something... shortly after Peter and I started dating.  Red Robin (yummmm).  Characters include Skywalker Peter and one of our friends whom I shall call Brenda.  We were sitting at one of those tables that has the booth on one side and the chairs on the other.  Peter and I were sitting in the booth side, and Brenda was sitting in the chair.  By the way - if you're wondering why I remember every single detail of this horrific event, it's because whenever we go to Red Robin and sit in the vicinity of where we were sitting that night, Peter says, "Hey, remember that time blah blah blah?" (don't want to ruin the story for anyone).  Anyways.  I was on the end so I had easy access in and out of the booth.  


After browsing the menu (I can almost never make up my mind quickly when I am at a restaurant, because I toy with the idea of trying something new for so long, but then when the waiter/-tress comes along, I always panic and order the same thing that I always get), I decided on a strawberry lemonade as a drink.


Have you had this drink at Red Robin?  It looks like this:

It is delicious.  Something that you should probably notice before I continue: there are actual strawberry chunks in this delicious refreshment.


As with any restaurant, we got our food before we got our drinks.  Standard.  I started sucking mine down because it was SO GOOD.  YUM.  Looking at this picture that I've just posted makes me want to drink one.  


As I was drinking away, the straw somehow became... clogged.  So instead of being the mature adult that my mom tried teaching me to be, I just sucked harder on that dang straw.  Before I knew it, a huge chunk of strawberry shot to the back of my throat, and I was gagging and spitting strawberry lemonade every where.  And by everywhere I mean all over the table, my lap, and the (when I had the sense to steer away from the table) floor.  Good thing I was on the end.  I was coughing and choking and gagging all at the same time, and I didn't know what to do.  Strawberry lemonade was coming out of my nose and mouth and MAN did I drink THAT MUCH strawberry lemonade that it's suddenly EVERYWHERE?!


During the entire episode that lasted 45 about 2 minutes, Brenda is looking at me from across the table in shock, and Peter is staring at me with that why-am-I-dating-this-girl look of horror on this face.  Awesome.


Sara: ohmyGAWD.  *gasp* OHMYGAWD *gasp* Did you SEE that?????  I was CHOKING.  I seriously almost DIED.  *deep breathing*


Brenda: *laughing uncontrollably*


Peter: Are you serious right now?


Sara: *look of confusion - shouldn't he be HAPPY I'm ALIVE??*


Peter: Sar, EVERYONE saw you.  This ENTIRE RESTAURANT saw you.

Sara: Well, at least I'm alive. 


...


Sara: I need more napkins, I think.


Fade out.


So yeah, on Friday night when I was looking at the strawberry lemonade on the menu, Peter made sure to remind me of THAT episode.  


I ordered it anyway.


And it was delicious.


So delicious, in fact, that I sucked down a glass and a half before we got our food.  And then I was full.  Too full to finish my steak (we brought it home), too full to even look at my baked potato, and too full for dessert.  Which we NEVER get, I might add.  But Peter wanted to like, go all out or something, and since we had a gift card (that barely covered one of our plates), he decided we could.  Point of story: it was amazing food and we will be returning when we both get significant raises, and then when we DO return, I will be ordering water and not even look at the bev menu.


I must say though, my favorite part of dinner was when a group of 4 walked in, and one of the men was holding a stuffed chicken.  I'm being completely serious.  He was carrying a stuffed chicken, cradled in his arm like it was a real chicken, and then he oh so conveniently set it on the ground, right where it would be staring at Peter and I during our entire meal.


Proof: (I have the proof on my camera, but I'm writing this blog on a Mac, and I have no idea how to get my pictures on it.  I'm usually a PC user.  Peter is converting to a Mac user, and while this MacBook Air is really light and thin and everything... I just don't have the patience to not know my way around it.  I'm not all tech-savvy like he is.  So the proof will come when I am on a PC.  I promise.)


After dinner we went to see the movie Water for Elephants.  A fantastic book that was also a (surprisingly) good movie.  When we got out of the theater, I told Peter that I REALLY liked that movie.  His response? "Yeah, you were crying the whole time..."  No.  For the record, I was NOT crying the whole time.  Only during the parts of like, animal cruelty.  I'm SORRY that I have a HEART.


Speaking of animals, I hate dogs (and cats) (and all pets) (animals belong outside).  Peter, on the other hand, LOVES dogs.  Actually, now that I think about it, he has the same reaction to dogs as I have with (most) babies: "AWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!  Look at that cute little puppy/babyyyyyyyyy.  Isn't she SO adorable????" Or, if there's an ugly one, "Yikes, check out THAT puppy/baby.  Woof."  To Peter, all dogs are "puppies".  It disgusts me.


One day, I was doing a little Facebook stalking, and I came across someone that I'm not really friends with, but we had a class together once or something, and she has a dog.  A Cavalier King Charles.  

Cute, right?  Well, I made the MISTAKE of telling Peter that if God forbid we EVER had a *gulp* DOG, it would be this one and I am naming her Ruby.


Peter got aaaaaaaall excited about it, and started googling the puppy right away and saying crazy things like "Maybe I SHOULDN'T re-sign my apartment lease, and then I can live in a place where I can have a puppy!!!!"


Slow down there, killer.  You think this whole puppy-thing is happening soon?  Try like, 20 years down the line... MAYBE 20 years down the line.  


For the record, this conversation happened in like February or something, and dear Peter is still talking about our never non-existant puppy named Ruby that I "agreed" to having.  


Seriously?  I've told Peter this one too: "PETER.  You KNEW that I HATED dogs BEFORE you started DATING me.  This is YOUR fault."  And then Peter responds in his calm manner, "Well, love of my life, you knew that I loved dogs before you started dating me.  So."


Touche.


For the record: Not liking dogs doesn't make me a bad person.  It just makes me a person that believes animals belong outside.  Not inside where they can shed and bark and drool and poop and pee on the carpet and jump on you and rip your clothes and eat your shoes and smell bad.


I'm being 100% serious right now.

Writer's Block

First of all, I know I've talked about this before, but I really think that I could be a great radio personality.  I mean, I love telling people about my life.  Anyways.


I've been having a little problem when it comes to the ol' bloggy blog.  I've been experiencing severe writer's block.  FYI: writer's block is code for my life is BORING.  My life is reaaaaaaal boring lately.  I even told Peter that we needed more exciting lives.  He said, "But Sara, this is the real world."  Haaaaaaaaa.


So, since my life has been far from thrilling, I just have zero to write about.  It's not like I'm babysitting so I have a bunch of kid stories for you.  And I'm not living in a foreign country, so there goes an entire blog's worth of entertainment (click on the link on the right called "re-live my Ecuadorian life here" if you haven't read about that joke of a life).  I also don't even have good Peter stories to tell, because he's been working a TON, so I don't even have HIM to entertain me.  Siiiiiiiiiiiigh.


Lucky for you (and me... because I realized that I need to use my creative juices once in a while), inspiration came to me on Sunday.  Inspiration, my friends, came to me unbeknownst while I was driving in my car.


Inspiration came to me in the form of a bee.  


On Sunday morning, I was driving through the bustling metropolis of Walworth with my windows about a quarter of the way down for about 5 minutes.  I put my windows up because I decided to call Peter.


Taaaaaaalky talky talky talky.


Sara: (Loudly) Oh.My.GAWD. (switch to a whisper... don't want Mr. Bee to sense my fear!) There is a BEE in my CAR. omgomgomgomg


Peter: *silence*


Sara: (Continue in a whisper) omgomgomgomgomg I have to go.  I don't know what to do.  Okloveyoubye.  I hope I don't die (FYI - I am not allergic to bees).  Ok wait.  I just put the window down.  omgomgomgomgomg I hope that the bee got out.  Ok I really have to go know.  What if I get STUNG while I'm DRIVING? Okloveyoubye.  I'mreallyscared.


*Click*


The bee DID get out of my car (I think) when I rolled my window down, but then I just drove with my windows ALL the way down for the rest of the ride home.  Insurance, people.


Flashforward a few hours.  Jenna and I were going to Rachel's volleyball tournament to sit with our mother and watch 2 hours of 8th grade volleyball on Mother's Day.  Yaaaaaaaaaay.  We decided to get ice cream.  We're in the car, driving along.  With the windows partially down.


Sara: AHHHHHHHHHHHH (ear piercing scream causing Jenna to slam on the brakes)


Jenna: OHMYGOD are you OK??????????


Sara: Oh.  Whoa.  I thought that leaf was a bee.  Man.  Did I tell you that there was a bee in my car earlier today?  That really must have had an effect on me.


Not like I ever over-react or anything.  Remember the time I was in a tornado warning?

Isn't she beautiful?

I thought that I would introduce you to my mom, who is just such a wonderful mother and person.

Her favorite thing in the world is when all 7 of her kids are back home on Mohawk Road at the same time.  Another one of her favorite things is hugging her kids.


One of my favorite things in the world is when all of my siblings are back on home on Mohawk Road at the same time.  Another one of my favorite things is hugging my mom.


I know 6 other people whose favorite things are the same.  


Isn't she just beautiful?

Questions and Answers

In recent weeks, I have been asked not very many questions, but these questions have been asked repeatedly, so that makes for a lot of questions.


Question 1: What'd you do THAT for?


I don't know if you noticed, but my blog recently had a face lift.  Well, my dad noticed.  He doesn't like it.  He specifically said, "I don't like it."  He asked me why I changed it.


Well sorry, DAD, I'm sorry that I wanted to add a little more SPICE in my LIFE.  GAWD.


Really though, when I first started my blog, I honestly didn't think that it would get as much traffic as it does... So I did something super plain and simple, as in, I just went with whatever blogger chose for me (Obviously blogger doesn't know as much about me as Google Ads does).  But upon further analysis, I decided that the only thing that is plain and simple about me is my name (thanks Mom and Dad...), but THEN when I was thinking about it, I'm not THAT complex because I am an idiot and don't think before I talk, so everyone knows what I'm thinking anyways.  AND I don't know how to lie, because people can guess what my emotion is just by my face.  UGH.  No secrets here.


Speaking of not thinking before talking, I was watching a TV show, and a wife was getting all riled-up and angry at her husband, and when she asked him if he thought about what he was going to say before he spoke, I really liked what he said: "Yes, I do.  And in my head, it's amazing, and then when I SAY it, I ALWAYS impress myself."  Yeah, I really liked that.


Another reason that I decided to add a little pizzazz to the old blog was because darling Peter gave me an early birthday present: www.realworldsara.com.  So now with this ritzy domain that I have, I thought I'd do a complete makeover.  Which isn't completely done yet, but I don't really feel like working on it any more.


Question 2: Do you know how to say...??


No.  I don't.  Being able to pretend that I can speak and understand Spanish has it's ups and downs.  One of the ups is that I got hired because of it.  One of the downs is that people think that you know every single mother trucking word.  Do you know how many words exist in Spanish?  A lot.  Not as many as English, but that almost makes it MORE difficult, because there aren't as many ways to say "idiot" in Spanish as there are English, so you're stuck sounding like the idiot repeating the same word.


The other day I sent a very hostile email in Spanish that had a lot of CAPS LOCK AND EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!!!!!  Because the man I was dealing with didn't make ANY sense, and this was like the 5th communication or something.  I was SO mad that I even translated the email literally word for word and sent it to Peter so that HE could get mad too (not that he doesn't have enough on his plate to worry about - specifically what to get me for my birthday), and he was all "WHOA. This guy is NUTS.  How do you DEAL with PEOPLE like this, love of my life?!" or something to that degree.  Then he asked if I responded with "wtf???" in Spanish.


Confession: I don't know how to swear in Spanish.  I know that it's like, the first thing that you're supposed to learn or something when you live in a foreign country, but I just... didn't.  I don't really swear that much in English though, so it's a pretty simple thing to leave out of my Spanish vocabulary.  I actually swear the most around my mom, because it makes her kind of mad, and that's our favorite thing to do.  


And how was I supposed to go about learning these swear words, anyways?  I taught 8th graders, which I KNOW that they know swear words, but I didn't think it was appropriate to have a lesson consisting of an exercise where I ask them how to say asshole and they tell me.  They DO know the word bitch though... I don't know if you remember THAT episode...  So anyways, I just never learned swear words.  Sorry I'm lame.


Question 3: Did you get that text?


-"Was it a picture text?"


-"Yes."


-"Then no."


Oh, the joys of cell phones.  For some reason, my phone refuses to receive picture texts.  Why, I have no idea.  It USED to, and then it just... stopped.  This frustrates me to no end.  It also frustrates Jenna, who likes to send me pictures of outfits/baby stuff/gifts/anything she wants me to judge, because she knows that yes, I'm judgey, but I will give her my honest opinion about it, even if that opinion is, "Jenna.  Seriously?  That is HIDEOUS."  And then she gets all offended, and I'm all "You ASKED me my OPINION, and you have KNOWN me for twenty three YEARS, so you should know by NOW that I will tell you the TRUTH and not SUGAR COAT it."  And then she sighs and says, "I knooooooooow."  


So.  No, I do not receive picture texts, so stop sending them to me, because I don't want you to think that I'm ignoring you or that I think you're stupid so I just am not responding.  It's not you, it's me.


And now, the question that I get asked MOST often:


Question 4: Have you always been so attractive?


No.