Jason and I were talking about "Hidalgo" again yesterday. He said, "You know, I've picked out maybe two whole movies in the past year that we've seen and I think both of them stunk." The more we thought about "Hidalgo," the more we've decided that it sucked. Sucked sucked sucked. We wanted another "Seabiscuit" but it was no "Seabiscuit."

In another completely unrelated topic, my chihuahua loves underwear. Dirty, clean, briefs, boxers...doesn't matter. Loves that underwear. Especially mine. Last night I was trying to fold clean clothes and I had all of my panties in a big pile. I started noticing that the pile was getting smaller. That darn dog was sneaking up behind me, nipping my undies and carrying them away like trophies. They were all in a pile in front of his space heater that he likes to curl up next to. He had his ears folded back penitantly. He knows it's bad, but it's like cocaine to him. He just can't help it.

Last night, Jason asked me what I thought I was truly good at. (I was having another Anti-Ellen day that he was attempting to extract me from--I have been feeling pretty useless and unimportant lately.) I thought about it and said, "Celebrity trivia." That is honestly the only thing that I am better at than anyone else I know. That was all I could come up with last night.

So I've been thinking about it today and I guess I have a couple more:
-Picking fleas and ticks off of animals
-Organizing our CD collection
-Cutting out paper dolls
-Making wontons

Yes, you are all thinking, it's a little sad.