This time, for Ken...

He has no idea what he's in for...

Guess what everyone! I've decided to unleash my hidden mad musical skilz and learn how to play the guitar! Yes, you read that correctly. Move over Eddie Van Halen, because as of tonight, Tiffanie knows how to (sorta) play three chords! (E, E minor, and A minor, thankyouverymuch!) Ken has graciously agreed to give me lessons, and part of me is kinda nervous that after this whole thing is over he'll never speak to me again.

Note to Ken: I'm hard-headed. Really. I mean, REALLY. I also HATE to be wrong, and I lovelovelove to be right. I also like/need to do things MY way. If you need clarification on just how hard it is to teach me something I don't really understand, give Jacques a call. You know the store's phone number.

This kind of reminds me about the only other time I was enlisted in some sort of "lesson" like this. I was no older than three years old, and I was enrolled in swimming lessons at our apartment complex. I wasn't really having such a good time, so in the middle of the first lesson, I decided to make a break for it, and I attempted to escape the wrath of my bald swim instructor by bolting across the apartment parking lot in my floaties. Of course, he chased after me, which was apparantly a laugh riot to all onlookers because I kept dodging him with my fox-like reflexes, zig-zagging through all the parked cars. I don't remember what happened after that, but I'm woman enough to tell you that as of this day I'm a poor swimmer.

But ANYWAY!!! I really want to learn how to play the guitar, and this only has a littleteensybit to do with the fact that I always wanted to be a rock star.

Ken was gracious enough to leave his guitar here tonight, so I could practice if I wanted. That's pretty cool.

So, okay, Mr. Miyagi. I'm ready to learn. Hammer on, Pull off. (okay..that's some cool guitar lingo I learned tonight, for all you NOVICES! hehehe...I am SO ready to ROCK!)

Because Obviously I am SO Exciting!

Of Course You Have to Pretend You Don't Know How to Do it...

Just read Willie's blog and noticed the pics of the cable/plug orgy that is going on behind the television. This is my solution: get someone else entirely to do it for you.

"Word" to Your Mother!

Big props go out to Ken, who was the one person who managed to teach me how to use the "word" option for text messaging on my phone! It's incredible! Gone are the days of "ur", "b4", and "2"!! My text messages now read like I'm an intelligent human being. Of course, the fact that I'm texting "A whole mess of nachos sounds good right now" kind of contradicts that. Whatever.

And the Million Dollar Question Is...

Why does one man need this much hair gel?

(He knows I'm posting this, so I don't feel so bad for doing so.)

Next Time, Do it Online.

Note to anyone who is reading: While waiting in line to renew your vehicle registration, telling the government worker who just walked through the door, "Finally! Someone's back from lunch! Jesus!" does NOT make the line go faster.

Of course, I'm not the one who said this.

I'm also not the lady who told the lady behind her, "I'm going to the bathroom. Hold my place in line, please." Am I the only one who believes that once you voluntarily LEAVE the line, you have to go to the END of the line?? You should have taken care of your bathroom needs before you left the house!

I'm also not the gentleman who skipped all the way to the beginning of the line, interupted a very nice lady who was trying to help someone else, and said, "Do I have to wait in this whole line just to renew my registration? Really? I have to wait in THIS BIG LONG LINE? That's ridiculous! I only want to get my sticker!"

Which leads me to this question: Who came first? The rude, sour-looking government employee or the stupid, ignorant, and rude person in line?

I'm Old.

I had a very senior moment this evening. Ken and I went to see Oceans Thirteen, and I actually fell asleep during the first twenty minutes. At first, I was just having a hard time keeping my eyes open, and then all of a sudden I woke myself up when I snorted.

However, my behavior was NOT indicative of the movie. What I saw of it was really good. One thing with those films, though...I have to watch them at least three times before I understand every little thing.

I am so freaking tired. I've been averaging about 4 hours of sleep per night for the last three nights or so, and it's catching up with me. But right now, Ken's asleep (after popping a Hydrocodone...Sweet Dreams!), the kids are at their mom's house, and my apartment is quiet except for the loud hum of the dishwasher and "Tommy Boy" playing on the television. I'm about to put Puddy in his bed, and then I'm off to bed as well.

Night Night Everyone!

Sigh.

The following conversation JUST happened:

Me: "Hey, Stephen, you remember that Disney thing we watched last night with Corbin Bleu on it?"

Stephen: "Yeah."

Me: "What was that song called?"

Stephen: "'Deal With It'"

Me: "I love that song."

Stephen: "Me too."

Stephen is 9 years old. I'm 36.

So, I just downloaded my first Corbin Bleu song. Don't even get me started on Hannah Montana.