Hawaii

So, I like to tell myself that the expressions I make on the states have nothing to do with how I feel about them, and that's probably true, but I can't help but think that this is how I would end up feeling under the sun all day, especially because it would make me feel bad about what a party-pooper I am and how I should be able to make my body immune to all the feelings it gets when I spend time in the sun, because who doesn't want to spend time on glorious beaches seeing exotic plants and animals and insects (that would be my favorite part, lest you think the last one sarcasm) while drinking coconut water from an actual coconut?

Basically my inner-Hawaiian is sad about all of the fun she could be having but is too much of a heliophobe.

Shoe Baskets for Everywhere

I’ve come to the conclusion that, if you struggle with cleanliness like I do, you might benefit from putting shoe baskets in all of your rooms.

When I say all of your rooms, I mean ALL of your rooms. There are the big ones, of course; the living room and family room and bedroom and playroom, but then there’s also the dining room and kitchen and bathroom and the hall where the vanity is and the laundry closet and the pantry. Yeah. Trust me. A shoe box in every room will really help you keep track of your shoes, because otherwise they will end up under the couch and in the tub and behind the pantry door and under the toilet.

This will also facilitate your inability to throw out shoes that you cannot wear due to

• toe/arch/heel/ankle pain
• a chronic lack of clean socks
• shoes falling apart
• stylish embarrassment
• missing both feet

If the possibility of diffusing shoe odor around the whole house worries you, rest assured that while laundry increases in aroma over time, shoes typically become more sedate in odor. And since you won’t actually be wearing the majority of your shoes (despite attempts at minimalist purges), they probably won’t actually smell.

:)

Interspecies Host Family Conflict

How to Overcome Differences and Work Around Communication Barriers

Are you struggling to overcome differences with your housemates? Do you get a sense that others don’t like you, even when they leave you alone?

If so, this is the class for you! In one sixty minute session with a trained professional, you will learn how to:

• Negotiate personal space boundaries that do not interfere with your host family’s culture
• Respect Host Family emotional boundaries
• Overcome linguistic differences by paying attention to intonation and body language
• Gain a deeper understanding of cultural superstitions and their sources
• Appreciate the sacrifices made by your host family on behalf of your stay

Just remember: it’s not your fault.

TESTIMONIALS

Who is William Hazlitt?

Bubbles

Most people actually like carbonation. Unfortunately, I don’t. (I wish I did; occasionally, I have spent hours swirling pop cans just to get some pain-free flavor). Fortunately for me, Michael doesn’t either.

Last night, we found the solution to all of our carbonation problems: blowing bubbles.

Basically, we wanted to have a date but were really exhausted, cause, y’know, we’re parents and feel like our bodies have just been on the wrong side of a carwash.

So we broke out our two favorite date night beverages--whole milk and martinelli’s apple cider--and commenced sending telepathic heart emoji’s at each other while sipping our drinks with dixie bendy straws.

But, being well trained by my toddler, and avoiding sipping too much cider at once (on account of the carbonation I don’t actually like), I started blowing bubbles in my cider, at which point Michael said, “I bet milk blows better bubbles.”

So we blew bubbles for the next forty seconds, and would have for much longer if it weren’t for the headache I was incurring from trying to compete with Michael’s milk bubbles. (Yeah. Milk bubbles annihilate cider bubbles.)

When I went back to sipping my cider, it was perfect. No cankerous carbonation pricking my tongue, just a very fine fizz.

That’s all. Happy Friday.

Dear Robot

Dear Robot,

Thank you for visiting The Earful Blog approximately 5,712 times in the past six days. I appreciate your dedicated attendance.

Unfortunately, however, your repeated clicks are producing the undesirable effect of placing both “Ode to Old Glasses” and “When You Look Like a Terrible Parent” above “A Bit About Michael” in terms of popularity. I like those posts, too. But do they really deserve to outshine any possible post about Michael, let alone one that highlights three stories about him?

I thought not.

As such, if you could kindly desist refreshing those pages several hundred times a night, we here at The Earful Blog would greatly appreciate it. Unless, of course, it is to restore “A Bit About Michael” to it’s proper place in the universe. (I hyperlinked it for you.)

Kindly,

Lizzie

P.S. No hard feelings are meant in the sending of this missive. In case you are feeling lonely or ignored, I have included a picture of a robot to be your friend. Maybe I will make more pictures of robots in the future. If you already have a robot friend, feel free to suggest a double date with me and Michael. :)

Ode to Old Glasses

A few weeks ago I found a page that looked roughly like this in one of my old journals.

Dearest Glasses,

Fortunately you were beat up enough that when Michael gave me a tour of his wallet while we walked around the bell tower courtyard when we started dating, I had something to show off. I’m sorry this was not enough for me to keep you.

Lest you think I didn’t love you, know that I made Michael choose the final replacement pair because, to me, none of them looked as good as you.

I would thank you for not being the pair that babies always steal and proceed to throw at my face, but I think that has less to do with you or my current pair than it has to do with my current life situation.

I can’t thank you enough for granting me vision of my now-husband, Toy Story 3, and the bone spurs on the endoscopy of my nostrils.

XOXO.

Lizzie