Yesterday, Mary James was happily noshing on cheese and peaches when I decided to warm up a few green beans for her lunch.  I placed a few on a microwaveable dish and then popped them in the microwave.

Approximately five seconds later I hear a popping sound and then the sound of something arcing in the microwave.  I quickly turned around to see something like this in the microwave:

VOILA!  Instant fireworks show….in my microwave.  I immediately rammed my finger on the end button to stop the green beans from cooking.  I HATE FIRE.  It absolutely terrifies me.  I assumed that there was a piece of metal in the green beans.  Since that seems obvious.  Right?  Ummm…no.  I threw out those green beans, got some more on a different plate and tried again.  Sparkly green beans celebrating the 4th a little late.  Again.

So, I called the consumer hotline number on the Del Monte can.  The lady I talked to was very nice and said she was suprised when people called about green beans arcing in the microwave.  She read me a prepared statement. Must not be that rare if they have a prepared statment.  I’m just saying…

Evidently certain dense vegetables (green beans, carrots, green peppers) contain high levels of certain minerals (iron, magenesium, selenium) which will react with the microwave causing an arcing effect.  These vegetable will not arc if placed in water or liquid.  According to the USDA, hotdogs will also arc if the salt and additives are not mixed properly.  Yum.

I had to show Ben my pyrotechnic display when he got home work.  I forgot that my husband LOVES fire.  Silly me.  He wanted to keep frying the green beans as I freaked out. 

Last night I crawled into bed, snuggled up next to my husband and the following conversation ensued…

Ben:  Um…what’s that smell?

Me:  What smell?

Ben:  Did you put lotion on?

Me: Yeah.  I put it on my hands, since you think I have dry “man-hands.”  (Admittedly he’s right.  I HATE lotion on my hands.)

Ben: It smells like cat litter.

Me:  Do what?!?!?!?!?!

(Granted this response doesn’t make sense in response to the statment.  I’ll blame it on my Southern upbringing.)

Ben: Well, not like dirty, poopy litter.

Me:  Gee thanks.

Ben: It smells like the perfume or scent or whatever that the clean cat litter comes with.

Me: Oh much better…

So, Jergens Original Cherry-Almond Scent…I thank you for making me smell like a litterbox.  But hey!  At least I won’t have man-hands.

A few years ago, my sister-in-law, Christy, showed Ben and I this video. I LOVE it!!! It’s definitely not a newbie (try 60 million views!), but it totally makes me smile every time I think of it. A little cheesy maybe, but hey who doesn’t need a giggle!

Voldemort at the end is friggin hilarious!!

Oh. A quick warning. This song willl be stuck in your head FOREVER!

Can you spot it?

Yeah, it’s the mug with the profane acronym.  An homage of sorts to our former, younger, non-parental selves.

This morning, Ben randomly put his coffee mug down to pick up MJ, so when I walked in the living room I saw the WTF mug nestled in with our family photos.  Quite the awkward juxtaposition.

Ben’s dad gave him the mug for a birthday present when we in college or maybe when I was in vet school.  Who knows?  It’s from ThinkGeek – a store for “programmers, linux hackers, and open source geeks.”  Oh how my husband loves this store.

WTF is a common phrase I know.  It’s applicable in the computer world when programs don’t work/servers break/non IT people (me!) ask stupid questions, etc.

Kinda funny to think this mug has a few short months of life left.  I know Mary James won’t be reading anytime soon, but my nephew could pick out letters when he was two and a half.  WTF is not something I ever want coming out of my precious baby’s mouth.  I don’t really even like the word “butt” and now I SO get why mom hated me saying “pissed off.”

Sayonara potty mouthed mug!

I love having a cell phone.  Really I do.  However, since yesterday evening I have been receiving strange text messages from people I don’t know.  I found them quite funny so I thought I’d share!

WARNING:  The grammar is copied “as is” from my cell phone.  There are lacking punctuation marks, capitalized letters, and real words etc.  Sorry if this makes you grind your teeth.

Strange Texter 1: It feels good having the power to make you open your phone for no reason.  Who’s my b#$&^?  That’s right, you are.  Now close it.  ROLL

What????

Strange Texter: GET UP GET UP   ~southern pride~

Note: this was sent a little after 6 AM.

Me: I think you have the wrong phone number.

Strange Texter: Don’t think so aint this alisha  ~southern pride~

Me: No it is not.  This is ###-###-####

Strange Texter: Thats the number that she gave me last nite said thats her new phone number  ~southern pride~

Southern pride?  Really?  I love the South but no so much the horrible images that a moniker like “southern pride” brings to my mind.  Not to mention that the unknown texter assumes I am wrong.  What????   Oh yeah, I don’t know who I am.  That’s right, now that you mention it my name is Alisha.

I then received a picture mail from a different unknown number.

Wrong number: <picture message>

Me: I think you have the wrong cell phone number.

Wrong number: Rite!

Wrong number: R u sure ? 3 people said this was flip flops number that my girl {LOVE 2 LOVE}

Me: Sorry but I do not know who that is.  This is ###-###-####.  Someone else has also been sending messages here on accident.

Wrong number: Ok

Again, the mistaken texter questions me.  Which cracks me up!  When I accidently call a wrong number, I’m going to remember to thoroughly question the person on the other end of the line.  And I wonder what is behind the nickname “flip flop?”  Does she wear them continuously or does she date alot?  Hmmm….

The same night, a third person called the old-fashioned way looking for Alisha.  My husband took the call and had to convince the person he had the wrong number.  And no.  NO ONE NAMED ALISHA LIVES HERE!

I seriously hope this poor girl has figured out she’s given her friends the wrong number.  Although, I started wondering if she had made up a fake number to give out at the bar, and I was the lucky recipient of her calls.

Either way, the messages and calls have stopped!  Yay!

I don’t believe in superstitions or “stupid-stitions” as we called them in my family growing up.

For example, when you enter someone’s house through the front door, you then have to exit through the back door…or something bad will happen.

How about a black cat crossing your path (while you’re in the car), then you lick your finger and mark an “X” on the rear view mirror?  Or the ever popular throwing salt over your shoulder if you spill any?

I must admit I do knock on wood.  Just like I did last Thursday when I said I didn’t believe in Friday the 13th.  Except, this time it didn’t work.

Now, my Friday the 13th wasn’t life altering.  My mother-in-law knows someone whose father died, mother died and the person was diagnosed with cancer ALL on DIFFERENT Friday the thirteenths.

What happened on my Friday the 13th?

The day started off when the LCD screen on my Mac Book Pro cracked.  Admittedly, I am too hard on electronics (well pretty much everything actually…toothbrushes, drawers, purses, backpacks, clothes, etc., etc.).  I’m going to post some pictures soon of this horror.

Did I mention this Mac Book Pro is MY husband’s love?

He has actually HUGGED this laptop.

Yeah…  I’m NEVER going to live this one down.

Then I find out the “Check Engine” light in my car indicates a transmission problem.  The transmission had extensive work done a little over a year ago.  Translation: much moula spent on said car.

Turns out a solenoid needs to be replaced.  Ooo…I sound car savy.  You aren’t fooled?  Smart you.  Turns out this is a different portion of the transmission than what was worked on previously.  Of course it is.  Oh and something is leaking around the brakes.  Super!

Granted these aren’t huge problems, just expensive ones.

Although, the hubs always says “If a problem can be fixed with money, then it’s not a real problem.”  In other words, there are always going to be so many problems in life that money will never fix.  Cancer, infertility, depression, death…

I haven’t posted anything in awhile.  <cough, cough>  Slacker!

I actually have a new blog design in the works!  Yippee, no more free Word Press designs.

Ye Olde Hubs is doing it for me.  Well I’m actually desgining, and he’s implementing since he speaks computer-ese.  Also, anything involving technology (hardware, operating systems, applications, etc.) usually crash and burn when I touch them.  I kid you not.  I’ve killed two brand new laptops within a day of receiving them.  So dead, we had to return them.  Yeah…

So string cheese.  Totally random?  Yes.

I realized that I  eat up to three sticks of string cheese a day.  One for breakfast, lunch, and a snack.  It’s great protein, calcium and low in calories (90 cal and 8g protein per stick!).  I also drink around two glasses of milk a day.  And yes, if you are wondering, my intestinal tract is just fine thank you.  Dairy and I are good friends.

I’m still breastfeeding; it’s been five and half months so far.  I wonder if subconsciously I think I need dairy, because of the 36-40 ounces of milk leaving my body daily?

Hmm…  Dude that’s a quart of milk!  Wow, I totally feel like a dairy cow.  Moo.  Although, with that low of milk production I would be hamburger meat by now.

Glad you’re not a dairy cow, huh?