Grey's Anatomy is back, and Jimmy Kimmel is funny

I do love Grey's Anatomy, and I wouldn't be a true American if I didn't love Michael Phelps. Perfect!



I thought the actual season premiere was weird. Like it wasn't taking itself seriously most of the time. It felt off. And the new doctor is too good to be true and therefore annoying and pompous. I'll still call him McArmy, though.

Dating-woe movies

Newlywed gushy caveat--I no longer need to watch girlie movies to help me get over being sad about dating, because Todd would be at the very tippy top of this list of awesome (movie) men. This post in no way implies he's not the greatest man I know. Ü

This weekend my friend and I were talking about the movies women watch to help them get over a breakup or feel better about their dating lives (some movies make you feel better because of the male lead's sweetness, and some movies just make you wish you had a boyfriend who is like the protagonist and then you feel worse). We came up with a chart for the movies, and I've attached it below. I thought you all might enjoy it.

I placed Ryan Reynolds as #2 because my friend suggested him, not necessarily because I believe he should be on this list. What male character deserves the coveted "barely less romantic than Titanic" slot, and why?

Is it . . . Mr. Darcy, because although he's aloof and snotty and has sensitivity issues, his glances at Elizabeth just melt the hearts of women everywhere? (I cannot BELIEVE I forgot about Mr. Darcy!)

Growin' up, readin' laundry labels

Last weekend Todd and I went to H&M. My sister Whitney fell in love with that store while she was in Spain, and she raves about it. For good reason. They have great prices and really cute clothes. Very European.

And European is good in many ways, except each article of clothing had a label in many different languages (fun!), but the laundry label was only pictures. I don't know what the pictures mean! That probably makes me a bad woman and crappy 20-years-self-laundry-doer and ugly American, but I couldn't figure out what the symbols meant. Dry clean? Hand wash? Don't use detergent?

So, thanks to the wonderful power of AskJeeves (Google failed me big time--it kinda left a dent in my online universe), I found this site that lists the American version of laundry labels. Which was close enough to what's on my new clothes. And I found some interesting labels I didn't know existed and instructions I didn't know were required for clothes (who irons?!).

I'm very familiar with this one. I used to buy all kinds of dry clean-only clothes, but recently I've realized that's quite annoying.

Did you know the lines under the little washing machine bucket mean things? I don't think I've ever seen these before. Fascinating.

And some things you're not supposed to wash. Eew.

So I realize this probably tells you more about me than I'd like, mainly that I suck at following laundry instructions, but I really did enjoy looking at all the laundry rules. Maybe it's because there are so many pictures.

Join me in flagging a blog, will you?

I don't care what you think about a candidate's views--personal attacks on a candidate's children, especially a baby with down syndrome, are out of line, inappropriate, and despicable. This blog is dedicated to the youngest child of Governor Sarah Palin, and I hope enough of us can flag this blog or contact Blogger to convince them to remove it. (I realize there are probably plenty of nasty sites around, but it irks me this is a Blogger entry.)

Why do people think it's ok to attack someone's sweet baby in such a way? Horrible. It wasn't ok when the press hounded the teenage Chelsea Clinton, and it's not ok to do it now.

Cheap shots.

(I got this story from Right Wing News, but partisanship aside, that blog is indeed real and nasty.)

This blog is slowly devolving into a forum about bugs. What does that say about me?

We went to my happy place this weekend, my parents' cabin in southern Utah. I love long weekends and church in Pine Valley. It's such a beautiful building.

We did many happy things this weekend. We went on a happy hike up a volcano, and it was a tougher climb than I imagined, but the view at the top was totally worth it. I love these white and red mountains. And you can't tell from these pictures (even though I do have an awesome Gollum thing going on with my bangs) but I got my hair cut a few weeks ago. It's a really cute bob, shorter than my hair has been for years. I love it, and some day I'll get around to posting a picture of it.

Sisters are happy.

We had a Foosball tournament, and it was happy. Lindsay and my dad, whose team name I won't repeat because most people don't work in the medical field and therefore don't appreciate its humor, won the tournament. They were amazing. I was impressed because we all are actually pretty dang good Foosball players.

We also played this crazy (but happy!) game that we called Around the World Ping Pong (I think that's what we called it) where you run around the ping pong table trying to hit the ball. It was fun but totally dizzying.

So overall, my happy place was happy. But the following story is not happy.

My favorite bathroom in the cabin is in the basement. It's bigger and has better water pressure and no one uses it because it's in the basement. Where the mice die in the toilet and the daddy long legs retire in the corners.

I got out of the shower the first morning, after I had done what I thought was a complete sweep of the bathroom. There, staring right across from me, was this bug. If it hadn't been on its back, things would have been really sad. And naked.

(You'll notice I again used my forensic skills to show the size of this thing.) I still used the bathroom the whole weekend, but it was a bit disconcerting to see it laying there, staring at me with its alien eyes. And no, those black things under its face aren't outlining its chin--those are its pinchers. Which it was waving at me the first time I saw it.

I was going to ask you guys if you know what bug it is (those of you from Idaho are probably shaking your heads at me, wondering why Nevadans don't know these bugs). Yesterday I contacted What's That Bug to try to figure out what this is and on their site I discovered--it's a potato bug. What?! And as my sister Lindsay so eloquently said, "Could you imagine one of those things just waving from a russet?"