Sydney Bristow Can Keep Her Job

DH and I have been watching a LOT of Alias lately due to the fact that Pineapple gave me the first two seasons on DVD for Christmas. Now, in order from absolute FAVORITE best show of all time, my picks are as follows:
  1. Buffy The Vampire Slayer (Joss Whedon is a genius.)
  2. Firefly (Seriously, have you heard of Joss Whedon? Genius.)
  3. Alias (Uber. Cool.)
  4. Angel (Is there anything Joss cannot do?!)
  5. Every other good show out there (most of which DH has informed me are NOT ‘good’ shows but rather are bad shows aimed at teenagers – but he likes Borat, so I’m not listening to him) – including all shows written and produced by Joss Whedon – including Dollhouse, Lost, Moonlight (too shortly lived), Roswell, Star Trek (the original series)…getting the idea here? I kinda like sci-fi/espionage/mystery stuff…that’s kinda my fave…OK, throw in a little Office & Rock of Love/Charm School/other VH1 vehicles for flavor.

Something else you may have noticed is that I like shows with strong female leads. Given that, it should be obvious why I love Sydney Bristow. She’s awesomely tough. And not only is she TOTALLY gorgeous and always put together but she’s insanely smart, speaks a bazillion languages, and has the coolest job. Ever. And since DH and I have been watching so much Alias lately, to the point that I’ve been dreaming I’m Sydney Bristow, the topic of me being a spy has come up in many of our conversations. For example, a recent conversation went something like this:

Me: I could totally be a spy just like Sydney Bristow…in fact, there’s something I should probably tell you…

DH: NO! Don’t tell me – I don’t want to be killed because you’re delusional and think for one millisecond you could be a spy.

Me: And why exactly couldn’t I be a spy????? Are you saying I’m not smart enough?

DH: No, I’m saying you’d never survive the torture…you’d give up in the first few seconds and Sydney is always getting tortured for information. She’s had her teeth pulled, multiple electric shocks…you just wouldn’t be able to hold out, that’s all.

Me: I’m tough!

DH: Ummmm, no. You’re not.

Me: Give me an example!

DH: OK – let’s say you’re about to be tortured…

Me: Bring it on!

DH:…and so you’re being held in a room by yourself…

Me: Alone time is a good thing – it allows for introspection and personal development…

DH: And you’re naked.

Me: As long as I’m not being judged, that’s OK.

DH: And it’s really, really,  really cold.

Me: Cold sucks <insert uncertain voice> – but I’d meditate my way through it….I bet….

DH: And now…for the first step in the torture process….we’re going to carry you into this meat locker and put you naked on this freezing cold metal table…it’s SOOOOOO COLD!!!!

Me: OK!!!! I’ll tell you what you want!!!!!

DH: And, that’s why you can’t be a secret spy.

Me: As long as they didn’t do the cold thing, I think I’d be OK…

DH: That’s all they’d do…because they’d know you’d hate it.

Me: Bad guys suck.

So, there you have it. I couldn’t be a spy because I’m a cold wimp. Other things besides the cold table we both agreed would push me right over the interrogation edge include:

  • Someone putting their freezing cold hands or toes on my warm tummy.
  • Making me drink a lot of frozen drinks to the point of brain freeze.
  • Making me pick up ice with my wet hands.
  • Forcing me to take a luke warm bath.
  • Not letting me wear house shoes on the cold, wood floor – socks only. (JERKS!)

I could seriously write this list all day, but I’ll save you the torture. 😉 Suffice to say, I’m not spy material. C’est la vie…I’d look awful with orange hair anyway!

What Do You Need?

DH and I were sleeping soundly this morning when we were awoken by a very LOUD Pineapple yelling and frantically waving her arms from her bed.

“What do you need?” I asked her. “Up, pbbbtttt” she responded (which translates to “Up, please” in Pineapple-ese). So I climbed out of bed and gathered my warm, squirmy, sweet Pineapple into my arms and toted her back to our bed for continued snuggling.

After about 15 minutes of tickles, kisses, hugs and Pineapple jumping on the bed, she began to whine around her pacifier. I popped the passy out of her mouth and said “what do you need?” She said “Dn, pbbbbtttt” (which translates to “Down, please” in Pineapple-ese). So I turned her around, tummy side down, and helped her make her way to the edge of the bed and slide gently to the floor.

I was just rolling back over when I felt freezing cold hands grip me around the waist. “What do you need?!” I squeaked after removing DH’s frozen mits from my warm stomach. “About 2 more hours of sleep and to be warmer” he mumbled. So I jumped out of bed and cranked up the heat because it was a FRIGID 28 degrees in PDX this AM. “Unless you’d like to look for another job, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about the additional sleep” I announced as I popped out of the bedroom door and headed upstairs to check on my dad’s dog (he’s staying with us while my dad and stepmom are out of town).

The dog was staring at me from behind the baby gate. His head was resting on his paws and he was looking at me with his baleful woe-is-me doggy face. I looked at him and asked “what do you need?” He immediately jumped up and began running in circles, charging at his dog bowl. Food. Got it. After filling up his dish and mashing in his meds (he has osteocarcinoma – poor puppy), I left the much chillier kitchen/living area of my home in favor of the cozy downstairs bedroom where DH was still lounging in bed and Pineapple was practicing her walking skills around the chair.

I jumped back in bed and began warming my popsicle fingers and toes on DH’s arms and legs (payback is a beyotch, no?). I was gradually raising my body temperature from frozen to tepid when my own little doggy – a shitzu-pomeranian mix – climbed over my legs, right up to my face and began staring at me. “What do you need?” I pondered to the pooch. He lept from the bed and ran to the sliding door. Potty break – important.

I climbed out of bed (again) and made my way to the door – helping a hapless Pineapple who was head down in a toybox with her tiny feet kicking in the air retrieve a particular item along the way – and the patiently waiting puppy. After letting him out, I turned to DH and said “why do I feel like everyone is looking at me and needing something today?”

“Because you’re supermommy” he garbled from the bed.

Ahhh – and now it all becomes clear. I always knew I had super powers. SUPERMOMMY – able to burn even the most unburnable of Christmas cookies with the slightest turn of a dial! I now needed to formulate a plan and take over the world…but where to begin. I guess I’ll start with you…now what do YOU need?!