Praise the Lord, it’s Friday. Things I’m looking forward to:

• Finding out the winner of the donuts from last week’s King Friday. (Why wasn’t I in the running? Mommy needs some donuts.)
• Cleaning my bathroom tonight.
• Seeing my cousin and his lady-friend, who are flying in from Mesa today.
• Starting work on the Christmas presents my friend May and I just came up with. (They are going to be legendary.)
• The King’s broken rib healing. The poor guy is in some serious pain and the broken rib doesn’t help with the house building project.
• Trying to get a good picture of Babboo to use in our Christmas card.
• Sleeping in tomorrow.

Before I bore you to death with more bullets, let’s see what The King has to say.

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ok, when i said embarassing, i didn’t mean stuff that you needed therapy for. i was thinking stuff like, “i shave my pubic hair into an arrow pointing to my goodies” or ” i sneak into my bosses office and squeeze out a fart when he/she isn’t in the room”. i tell you what, i don’t judge. and i know it was hard to open up for some of you. so thanks for giving us all a laugh. its a tough pick. i’d have to say that not washing one’s hands after going #’s 1 or 2 is pretty out there, but its probably not safe to eat doughnuts (or anything) without a good wash. i hope you dont work in a restaurant. and even though i pretty much spent all week thinking of MK eating doughnuts in bed with no undies on, you cant win 2 weeks in a row. but thanks though. it warms my heart to know that there is at least one other person out there fighting the war against unnecessary underclothing. live free sister! bump it up a notch and stop wearing them during the day too… in fact, let’s all follow MK and make this friday, 11/17/06, sleep nude day. please join us as we all lay ourselves between the sheets, sans clothing (or at least underwear) and sleep unbound by society’s pressures and the itchy elastic. pledge your support.

so i guess this week we have two winners. i only have one doughnut card, so that goes to janet for being the first to admit that she has a blanky. i know there were several of you that came forward in that department, but being first is always the toughest. and second prize goes to jen, the finger picker. i have something special for you. send us your mailing addresses and we’ll get things in the mail. (MK, your prize from last week is still to come. we head to the great white north next week.)

so i never really planned for my weekly post to become a contest, but it seems to be the best thing so far since my mundane existence leaves very little interesting to write about. plus, i want everyone to have a chance to revel in their good fortune and win a fantastic prize. this week’s winner will win an all expenses paid, one year subscription to their choice of the following magazines: glamour, self, or successful farming.

to win this week’s coveted prize, you must answer the following:

if you could impart just one piece of wisdom that you have learned in life, what would it be? the king’s wisdom is this: baby wipes aren’t just for babies. why use dry toilet paper when a sanitary baby wipe will give you a far superior result. underneath this tough exterior is a guy who likes to have that gentle yet thorough post-toilet cleansing that only a baby wipe can provide.

i’m just sayin’, that’s how i roll.

best wisdom wins. oh, and put an extra blanket on tonight if you’re in a colder climate…
-k

Kerrianne posted pictures of her fridge last week. For all the world to see. I was afraid to post my own fridge pictures. But that was mostly because it was empty. Which I thought meant I was a bad wife and mother.

Then The King went grocery shopping last night (while I hung out downtown with my friend). Now our fridge is all stocked and I feel like a better person. Plus, he bought me the gingerbread creamer that I love. (Have you guys tried this creamer? It is heaven in a bottle. Apparently there are more flavors. Which I will be trying.)

The outside of my fridge is about as boring as it gets. Right? One day there will be little drawings the Babboo did at school on there. For now? Coupons for formula.

But I make up for the lack of excitement on the outside with lots of exciting things on the inside. (Hey, it’s just like me.) I mean, check out all the diary products and meats. It’s a regular animal-product haven.

Hum, there seems to also be a lot of animal products in the freezer. I think we need to have more fruits and veggies in our diet. (But don’t tell The King I just said that, okay?)

Now as boring as this may all seem, it really isn’t.

Oh wait, yes this is. Kerrianne’s was so much cooler. I think it may have had something to do with all the pictures of friends and family on the outside of her fridge. Or the soda on the inside.

I need more soda in my life.

So-wanna share what’s inside your fridge? Or better yet, what’s under your sink?

I did it. I am going to do it. As soon as I hit “publish” on this post?

Do what?

Join Frema’s Cheesy Love Song CD swap, of course. At first I thought I couldn’t do it. I mean, I don’t have blank CD’s sitting around, let alone time to burn them, package them up and then mail them out.

But after thinking about it more and getting more excited about it, I decided to just join in with the cool kids. I mean, everybody’s doing it.

(Yes, if everybody jumped off a cliff I would follow. But only if they were wearing really trendy boots and had good hair. And especially if they promised to be my friend after jumping off of said cliff.)

I set up my playlist yesterday at work. Get this; I don’t really own any cheesy love songs, only hot love songs that aren’t so much about love as they are about doing it. Or songs that just make you want to do it.

So while others are bragging about songs by Mariah Carey and movie soundtracks, my CD is going to have a lot of songs by the Old 97’s and Rhett Miller. Okay okay, there may be a few cheesy songs in there. I mean, you can’t make a mix CD without including at least one ABBA or Paul Simon song. Right?

Of course I reserve the right to make changes to this play list depending on what my mood is when it actually comes time to burn the CDs. (I have to find some blank CD’s also. Maybe I’ll find some in a coworker’s office.)

So tell me, what would be on your Cheesy Love Song CD?

(All this talk may convince you to join the swap.)

The King and I watch a lot of TV. I’m not proud. And although we love it, we feel a little guilty about the amount of time we waste doing this little pastime.

We cancelled HBO last week in an effort to ease our guilty conscience.

Since we no longer have HBO OnDemand we’ve had to find some new shows to watch. This quest lead us to Les Stroud over at the Science Channel. (Do I even have to tell you that we don’t usually watch this channel? Yeah, because we don’t.)

Who is this Les Stroud I speak of? And what does he do? He’s some sort of superhuman. Seriously.

So there’s this show called Survivorman. And it’s awesome. Basically this Survivorman “will attempt to live by himself for a week without supplies, food or shelter in some of the harshest environments on Earth. Adding to the challenge, he’ll drag 50 pounds of camera equipment everywhere he goes and shoot the ordeal himself.”

They just drop this guy off and he has to survive for an entire week. The first one we saw, he was in some place that was coved with snow. I think it was in Canada, but I can’t be sure. The dude made a shelter out of an abandoned plane (he was supposed to have been in a “crash” for this episode). He started his own fire. He found his own food.

The bottom line is that he didn’t die. Which is what would have happened to me. I would have just snuggled up under a tree, cried, and died. It’s that simple. I wouldn’t have known how to build a fire. I would have known how to keep warm.

Just thinking about this stuff makes me nervous.

The next episode we saw was of this Survivorman out in Moab, Utah. He was dropped there with a broken up bike and had 7 days to find his way out. Alive.

He made traps out of rocks and twigs to trap varmints to eat. He knew what weeds to boil to make “tea” (tea that was full of ephedrine, which I’m sure helped a little).

Plus he does all this while lugging around over 50 pounds of camera material. And since he is filming all of this on his own, he has to set up the camera, shoot, and then walk back to get the camera. Basically he’s walking twice as far.

He’s amazing. He’s smart. He’s brave. He’s bald.

All things that I like and respect.

I watch and pay very close attention to everything he’s saying. I get nervous if I miss something. I mean, what would happen if I’m stuck in a plane crash in Canada and I couldn’t remember how to start my own fire?? Or what if I’m in Moab riding my mountain bike and I have to trap a rat to eat for lunch? What if I can’t remember what Les said about how to cook it? I think he mentioned what rat organs not to eat. Crap, how do I tell a rat’s liver from its heart? Wait; was the heart okay to eat?

See, I would die.

(Let’s not even go into the fact that I’m not going to be in a plane crash in Northern Canada and I’m for sure not going to be mountain biking in Moab.)

After getting into this Survivorman show, we heard about another show like it called Man Vs. Wild. And get this; the star of this show is actually named Bear. (With a name like that this was the only career he could go into.

I watched my first (and only) episode of Man. Vs. Wild last week. I stayed up long after Babboo and The King had fallen asleep. I had to keep watching to make sure Bear survived. More specifically I needed to make sure Bear survived the bear he was being stalked by.

My heart was racing. My fingers were gripping my blanket. My eyes were semi opened, as to avoid having to see any blood.

Then it dawned on me that this dude wasn’t filming this himself. He had a crew there. And then I saw the 2-way radio in his hand.

It became very clear to me; this Bear-guy wasn’t anything like my original love, Les “Survivorman” Stroud. Bear wasn’t in any real danger. I mean, I’m sure his camera guy had a gun. Or at least a way for them to get out of there, quick.

(Don’t you love how I judge?! Because if I saw a bear in the wild, I would shat myself and have a heart attack. But I am judging this guy for not being all alone to deal with his attacker? Yeah, I suck.)

Did I mention that both of these guys are good looking? Because that helps make it good-TV. So give them a watch. Just make sure to have a pen and paper nearby. Because you’ll be wanting to write down all the hints to surviving your next wilderness adventure.

I know I will.

This weekend The King and I tried to count how many times he’s been my hero.

1. There was the time I accidentally got on the wrong bus home shortly after I moved to Seattle. I got off as soon as I could-but had no idea where I was. I called The King very upset and told him to come and get me now! But seriously, I had no idea where I was. Nothing looked even vaguely familiar. I was freaked. Especially when I heard gun shots. I found a church and hid out in the doorway until The King could figure out where in the crap I was. To this day I still don’t know how he found me. But he found me.
2. There was also the time right after Babboo was born that my handy-dandy hand breast pump broke. And I needed to pump. And it was in the middle on the night on a weekend. So The King ran to Wal-Mart (I know!) and bought me a new fancy pump. He saved me (and my boobies).
3. Last week he showed up at the Church in an effort to help me with the damned projector that never worked.
4. And of course he was the hero when he built our last house and again with our new house.
5. Let’s not even get into how many ways he was the hero with the miscarriages and pregnancies and c-section. I mean, basically I was pregnant for the last 2 years and he took great care of me. Hello, hero. (I may also be the hero in all of this. But we aren’t counting times I’ve been the hero here.)
6. And then there was the time I dropped the Christmas Bubble Light on our hardwood floors. And the acid burned through the floor. And I cried. And was afraid that The King was going to leave me. He didn’t leave me. He wasn’t mad. He even was able to save the day and clean it up. I don’t know how he did it. But he did.
7. We got a flat tire late one Sunday night. It was dark. It was cold. He changed the tire. I sat in the warm car. Enough said.

The list went on and on. He kept adding things to his list. When I would try to add something that I had done, he poo-poohed me. I tried to say that I was the hero when I cleaned up the cat vomit a few weeks ago. But he didn’t buy into that one. I even suggested that me sweeping up my hair in the bathroom was hero-worthy. Nope. Didn’t work. There was also the time I bought him an iPod for his birthday. I guess that didn’t count either. But driving to Wal-Mart in the middle of the night? Yep, hero.

Basically what I’m saying here is that The King rocks. He continually saves the day. Which makes us a great team because I mess things up. I trip. I fall down. I spill acid on the wood floors.

And he cleans up after me.

Did you hear about the Cheesy Love Song CD swap going on over at Frema’s blog? I love this idea. And who doesn’t need to add to their Cheesy Love Song collection? So go check out Frema’s blog and sign up for the swap. It’s going to be legendary.