Mar 9, 2010
Losing My ( )dentity
My I button seems to be malfunctioning. If I don't pay careful attention it just doesn't type anything when i press on it. Most words can be gnored and fixed with spell checker, except when I am talking about myself and use the word "I". If I am not paying attenton, I will get to the end of a sentence where I expound my opnions on icecream flavors, and when I look back over it, I will have been completely left out of the sentence. I feel a lttle bit lke I am losing my identty. So I have to keep going back over it and saying “I! I! I’m the one who loves Heavenly Hash!” I have to be really forceful and jab the “I” key really hard to convnce it that I am the one who is talking.
Though it occurs to me now, that maybe the reason that I is the key that is going, is because I have always been too forceful with it.What am I trying to compensate for?
Though it occurs to me now, that maybe the reason that I is the key that is going, is because I have always been too forceful with it.What am I trying to compensate for?
Mar 8, 2010
Where My Nerds At?
My husband is just the teeniest bit nerdy. Only the teeniest, tiniest bit. Ever since who-knows-when he has wanted his very own Tricorder, just like the following:
If, by some bizarre accident of nature or TV programming, you have no idea what I am talking about or what this is a picture of, then I'm afraid there is nothing I can do for you. It would be like trying to describe the binary language of moisture vaporators to a hedgehog. Not that you are like a hedgehog. You are beautiful and good. And. . . . oh, let's just move on.
I bought him a phaser and a communicator for his Birthday last year
- only to find out JUST YESTERDAY that his mom gave him both when he was in highschool. He pulled them out to display in his Shrine to Nerd-dom he is putting together next to our bed. He assures me that these new ones I gave him are different and nice and he is very, very glad to have both. But the truth is, what he really wants is a Tricorder. He would happily own every one that has ever been made (and believe me, there are lots.) And as much as I like to surprise him, I think I have learned enough not to try to buy a Tricorder for him. Indeed, picking out your first tricorder is what turns a boy into a man.
So he's been looking at them online lately. Researching, comparing prices, reading reviews, watching videos. The videos are the best. In the "Sheesh, and I thought YOU were nerdy!" kind of way. Here is a very helpful and informative one:
No, no, I don't expect you to watch it (unless you are into that sort of thing). I mean, this guy happily rambles on about his tricorder for Twenty Minutes! And Richard watched the whole thing.
My favorite part is at about 8 minutes, 10 seconds. We watched it over and over cuz we thought it was so funny. Man, that guys is a nerd. And he doesn't know. I really don't think he has any idea what a nerd he is, which is what also makes him a dork. Not that there is anything wrong with that. And also, I kinda wish I knew him. Cuz nerds are the best, ya know?
If, by some bizarre accident of nature or TV programming, you have no idea what I am talking about or what this is a picture of, then I'm afraid there is nothing I can do for you. It would be like trying to describe the binary language of moisture vaporators to a hedgehog. Not that you are like a hedgehog. You are beautiful and good. And. . . . oh, let's just move on.I bought him a phaser and a communicator for his Birthday last year
- only to find out JUST YESTERDAY that his mom gave him both when he was in highschool. He pulled them out to display in his Shrine to Nerd-dom he is putting together next to our bed. He assures me that these new ones I gave him are different and nice and he is very, very glad to have both. But the truth is, what he really wants is a Tricorder. He would happily own every one that has ever been made (and believe me, there are lots.) And as much as I like to surprise him, I think I have learned enough not to try to buy a Tricorder for him. Indeed, picking out your first tricorder is what turns a boy into a man.
So he's been looking at them online lately. Researching, comparing prices, reading reviews, watching videos. The videos are the best. In the "Sheesh, and I thought YOU were nerdy!" kind of way. Here is a very helpful and informative one:
No, no, I don't expect you to watch it (unless you are into that sort of thing). I mean, this guy happily rambles on about his tricorder for Twenty Minutes! And Richard watched the whole thing.
My favorite part is at about 8 minutes, 10 seconds. We watched it over and over cuz we thought it was so funny. Man, that guys is a nerd. And he doesn't know. I really don't think he has any idea what a nerd he is, which is what also makes him a dork. Not that there is anything wrong with that. And also, I kinda wish I knew him. Cuz nerds are the best, ya know?
Mar 5, 2010
and so on, and so forth...
I just woke up from a nap. Sort of. As much as one can wake up from a nap. There are those who believe that you never truly wake up from a nap, and as your life goes on more and more of you stays asleep until there is more of you asleep than awake. That is why old people are such bad drivers.
Sitting at his computer, Richard got a popup advertising The Secret to thick, strong, shiny, Asian hair. And Richard said, "Uh, yeah. Isn't the secret being Asian?" And unfortunately, I think he is right. My mongrel, European heritage has bestowed upon me limp, frizzy, thinning hair, and I'm proud of that. I don't need any "internet secrets" taking that away from me.
My shocking news of the day is that I have decided to give up sugar. Temporarily. One day the notion popped into my head out of who knows where and I just up and decided to go without sugar until my Birthday in April. For a total of 6 weeks. Because--I reasoned--I can do anything for 6 weeks.
It has been almost 3 weeks so far. Sometimes it is easy and sometimes it is so hard it is all I can do to keep from smashing things, but I have stuck with it. And I guess I will stick with it till the end, cuz it seems like a waste to quit now, though I'm not really sure why I decided to do this in the first place. Mostly what I feel at this point is just bored. Dessert is fun. Cooking dessert is fun. How the heck am I supposed to entertain myself if I don't eat dessert?
Sitting at his computer, Richard got a popup advertising The Secret to thick, strong, shiny, Asian hair. And Richard said, "Uh, yeah. Isn't the secret being Asian?" And unfortunately, I think he is right. My mongrel, European heritage has bestowed upon me limp, frizzy, thinning hair, and I'm proud of that. I don't need any "internet secrets" taking that away from me.
My shocking news of the day is that I have decided to give up sugar. Temporarily. One day the notion popped into my head out of who knows where and I just up and decided to go without sugar until my Birthday in April. For a total of 6 weeks. Because--I reasoned--I can do anything for 6 weeks.
It has been almost 3 weeks so far. Sometimes it is easy and sometimes it is so hard it is all I can do to keep from smashing things, but I have stuck with it. And I guess I will stick with it till the end, cuz it seems like a waste to quit now, though I'm not really sure why I decided to do this in the first place. Mostly what I feel at this point is just bored. Dessert is fun. Cooking dessert is fun. How the heck am I supposed to entertain myself if I don't eat dessert?
Mar 1, 2010
Underneath this world, there is a whole nuther, different world, and they have really delicious potatoes.
There is a whole bloggy world out there that some of you don't even know about. Some of you do, of course, and that is why you are here, but the rest of you are here because you are related to me, and as such feel a certain responsibility to read what I write, and find out what is going on in my life (which is increasingly infuriating, because I never actually SAY anything!)
Anyhoo, what I am driving at is that there is this whole, bloggy community of women (and men, so legend has it) who only know each other through their blogs, and read each other's blogs and from time to time go out to lunch together, and then casually attend Blogging Conferences where they meet and talk to MORE people and read MORE people's blogs and this goes on and on exponentially until eventually someday they will break the internet.
But until that day, blah blah blah, I really don't know where this sentence is going.
Ok. So these people get together. For instance, I assume it is not a secret that Kristina has announced a blog lunch on March 20th at the Old Folk Mecca: Golden Corral. (She also announced that she actually cares about Old People, which you can read more about here.) So, with that announcement comes a decision. Should I go?
See, the thing is, I went to one of these once before. Though it wasn't a lunch. It was a Bridal shower. Brittany was having a baby shower hosted by Kristina and she basically said "If anybody wants to come, let me know." So I said, "Send me on down one-a them thur invitations!" And she did. And somehow I found myself on the fateful day in my car, heading toward Salt Lake to attend the shower.
It was exciting to meet these people, but as I drove I was mostly just nervous. And then I got lost. And then I got loster. And then I was yelling "Where the heck am I??" and then I was like "CURSE YOU AND YOUR STUPID MAP KRISTINA!" and then I was like "Oh. I'm here." And then I was nervous again. Really, crazy nervous. What was I thinking coming to this thing??
But here is the plot twist: It was great! I ended up sitting by Annie of Regarding Annie, which was nice for me because Annie is good at talking. Well, no. That's not quite it. She is good at conversation. Talkers are nice cuz they do all the talking and I can just listen and I don't have to do any work. But she asked me questions. Got me talking, and it didn't feel like work at all. On my other side was Jessica, from Duck, Duck, Cow, whose blog was the first stranger's blog I ever commented on. Thusly, she was the first stranger who commented on my blog, and I was pretty dang excited, I can assure you. I also met the Boob Nazi, and Shanna of Just So, and Christa (whose blog I cannot find anywhere) and gosh it has been so long that is as far around the circle as I can remember.
So what I am trying to say is, it was really nice to meet them and I was so glad I went, but now there is another lunch coming up and even though I liked the last one, I am afraid to go to another one. I just read This Post by That Girl, and I totally get where she is coming from. Though for me it is not so much fear of having to meet expectations as just having to talk to people. Talking to people is the worst! And 19 million times more worser when they are people you don't know. With one of my sisters I can be like "Hey, what's up? Why don't we sit down, eat 27 peanut butter bars and watch some Firefly" But with a stranger I have to be like, "Hello. How are you on this fine morning? Would you care to sample some of these delectable peanut butter bars? Oh, you don't eat carbs? You don't like Sci Fi? You don't watch TV??" And then I have to fake a nose bleed and run for the bathroom. Yeah. Pretty painful. So, anyway, I think the point is,
Talking = BAD
Peanut Butter Bars = GOOD.
Oh, and the other point, which I learned at the aforementioned Blog Lunch, is that the name of my blog "Ahem" is no fun to say out loud. So when people asked what my blog was I started just clearing my throat. And then they would say "How do you spell that?"
I could try to sum this all up nicely, but what good would that do? Let's just say that I have shared all the thoughts I have on the matter, and leave it at that.
But what are YOUR thoughts?
Anyhoo, what I am driving at is that there is this whole, bloggy community of women (and men, so legend has it) who only know each other through their blogs, and read each other's blogs and from time to time go out to lunch together, and then casually attend Blogging Conferences where they meet and talk to MORE people and read MORE people's blogs and this goes on and on exponentially until eventually someday they will break the internet.
But until that day, blah blah blah, I really don't know where this sentence is going.
Ok. So these people get together. For instance, I assume it is not a secret that Kristina has announced a blog lunch on March 20th at the Old Folk Mecca: Golden Corral. (She also announced that she actually cares about Old People, which you can read more about here.) So, with that announcement comes a decision. Should I go?
See, the thing is, I went to one of these once before. Though it wasn't a lunch. It was a Bridal shower. Brittany was having a baby shower hosted by Kristina and she basically said "If anybody wants to come, let me know." So I said, "Send me on down one-a them thur invitations!" And she did. And somehow I found myself on the fateful day in my car, heading toward Salt Lake to attend the shower.
It was exciting to meet these people, but as I drove I was mostly just nervous. And then I got lost. And then I got loster. And then I was yelling "Where the heck am I??" and then I was like "CURSE YOU AND YOUR STUPID MAP KRISTINA!" and then I was like "Oh. I'm here." And then I was nervous again. Really, crazy nervous. What was I thinking coming to this thing??
But here is the plot twist: It was great! I ended up sitting by Annie of Regarding Annie, which was nice for me because Annie is good at talking. Well, no. That's not quite it. She is good at conversation. Talkers are nice cuz they do all the talking and I can just listen and I don't have to do any work. But she asked me questions. Got me talking, and it didn't feel like work at all. On my other side was Jessica, from Duck, Duck, Cow, whose blog was the first stranger's blog I ever commented on. Thusly, she was the first stranger who commented on my blog, and I was pretty dang excited, I can assure you. I also met the Boob Nazi, and Shanna of Just So, and Christa (whose blog I cannot find anywhere) and gosh it has been so long that is as far around the circle as I can remember.
So what I am trying to say is, it was really nice to meet them and I was so glad I went, but now there is another lunch coming up and even though I liked the last one, I am afraid to go to another one. I just read This Post by That Girl, and I totally get where she is coming from. Though for me it is not so much fear of having to meet expectations as just having to talk to people. Talking to people is the worst! And 19 million times more worser when they are people you don't know. With one of my sisters I can be like "Hey, what's up? Why don't we sit down, eat 27 peanut butter bars and watch some Firefly" But with a stranger I have to be like, "Hello. How are you on this fine morning? Would you care to sample some of these delectable peanut butter bars? Oh, you don't eat carbs? You don't like Sci Fi? You don't watch TV??" And then I have to fake a nose bleed and run for the bathroom. Yeah. Pretty painful. So, anyway, I think the point is,
Talking = BAD
Peanut Butter Bars = GOOD.
Oh, and the other point, which I learned at the aforementioned Blog Lunch, is that the name of my blog "Ahem" is no fun to say out loud. So when people asked what my blog was I started just clearing my throat. And then they would say "How do you spell that?"
I could try to sum this all up nicely, but what good would that do? Let's just say that I have shared all the thoughts I have on the matter, and leave it at that.
But what are YOUR thoughts?
Feb 27, 2010
It is Hot and/or Ready, if you are willing to wait till it comes out of the oven.
Friday night I was going out with some friends, so a quick and easy dinner solution for my family was Little Ceasar's Hot and Ready pizza. Because I'm cheap like that.
At 5:00 Harrison and I pulled in to Little Ceasar's, (in order to beat the dinner rush) and I ordered a Hawaiian pizza. They used to have them hot and ready, but not any more. I didn't realize this. The cashier told me it would be about 5 minutes. No big deal. I grabbed a balloon for Harrison and we sat down to wait.
Turns out 5:00 on a Friday is NOT early enough to beat the dinner rush. It was packed. Crazy busy. I think Hot and Ready pizzas was probably the best thing Little Ceasar's ever did for themselves. The pizza is not fantastic, but it is cheap and it is available NOW. Those two qualities are pretty hard to resist. And those highschoolers employed there work really hard. People say teenagers are lazy, but those kids were working their non-existent bums off.
So we waited. And waited. And waited. After about 15 minutes an employee told me they had just put my pizza in the oven and he was really sorry and gave me a couple expired coupons for free crazy bread. So we waited some more.
Harrison was done sitting quietly by this time. I tried to find the balance between keeping him from driving everyone else in the place crazy, and giving him enough freedom that he wouldn't scream. I didn't do a very good job, but I honestly thought about trying harder. Some little kid sitting next to us was smacking his parents in the face with his balloon, so Harrison started doing it to me, and I was like "NUH UH." Then he wanted to roll around on the floor with his balloon, but I wasn't having any of that either.
I considered leaving, but thought, if I don't bring this pizza home to my family, how will I provide them with the nourishment they need? After around 20 minutes the same employee gave me my money back for the pizza. I said "Are you serious?" And he assurred me they were sorry that my pizza was taking so long. I wanted to ask how much longer it would be at this point, but after such a kind gesture on his part, I felt like that would be a little greedy of me.
So I just kept waiting. And it really would not have been a big deal if not for Harrison. He spent his time jumping in front of people on accident so that they tripped over him, sending their pizzas flying (OK. Nobody's pizza flew through the air. That would have been just so awesome), sticking his hand in the door to keep people from closing it (to which my response was "WHAT the CRAP are you doing???"), or patting strangers on the bum. The poor old lady he did that to probably had a mini heart attack from that little surprise.
At 5:30 I was just about to tell them that, Thank You, they had been very, very nice, but I was going to have to leave, when someone who looked like a manager came over with my pizza, an apology, and coupons for TWO free Hawaiian pizzas. Wow. Really, Wow. I thanked him for the excellent service and went home to scarf down my pizza. And I felt a little bad. Did the manager realize I already got my money back? Not to mention the crazy bread. Cuz while I did have to wait a while, that was a very profitable pizza acquiring expedition. And that is some seriously good customer service! Better than I would have ever expected from Little Ceasar's. Far from being annoyed and deciding to go somewhere else next time I want pizza, I'm gonna go back to L.C. because they were so nice to me. But, when that next time happens to roll around, you can bet your pajamas that I will be leaving Harrison with his Father.
At 5:00 Harrison and I pulled in to Little Ceasar's, (in order to beat the dinner rush) and I ordered a Hawaiian pizza. They used to have them hot and ready, but not any more. I didn't realize this. The cashier told me it would be about 5 minutes. No big deal. I grabbed a balloon for Harrison and we sat down to wait.
Turns out 5:00 on a Friday is NOT early enough to beat the dinner rush. It was packed. Crazy busy. I think Hot and Ready pizzas was probably the best thing Little Ceasar's ever did for themselves. The pizza is not fantastic, but it is cheap and it is available NOW. Those two qualities are pretty hard to resist. And those highschoolers employed there work really hard. People say teenagers are lazy, but those kids were working their non-existent bums off.
So we waited. And waited. And waited. After about 15 minutes an employee told me they had just put my pizza in the oven and he was really sorry and gave me a couple expired coupons for free crazy bread. So we waited some more.
Harrison was done sitting quietly by this time. I tried to find the balance between keeping him from driving everyone else in the place crazy, and giving him enough freedom that he wouldn't scream. I didn't do a very good job, but I honestly thought about trying harder. Some little kid sitting next to us was smacking his parents in the face with his balloon, so Harrison started doing it to me, and I was like "NUH UH." Then he wanted to roll around on the floor with his balloon, but I wasn't having any of that either.
I considered leaving, but thought, if I don't bring this pizza home to my family, how will I provide them with the nourishment they need? After around 20 minutes the same employee gave me my money back for the pizza. I said "Are you serious?" And he assurred me they were sorry that my pizza was taking so long. I wanted to ask how much longer it would be at this point, but after such a kind gesture on his part, I felt like that would be a little greedy of me.
So I just kept waiting. And it really would not have been a big deal if not for Harrison. He spent his time jumping in front of people on accident so that they tripped over him, sending their pizzas flying (OK. Nobody's pizza flew through the air. That would have been just so awesome), sticking his hand in the door to keep people from closing it (to which my response was "WHAT the CRAP are you doing???"), or patting strangers on the bum. The poor old lady he did that to probably had a mini heart attack from that little surprise.
At 5:30 I was just about to tell them that, Thank You, they had been very, very nice, but I was going to have to leave, when someone who looked like a manager came over with my pizza, an apology, and coupons for TWO free Hawaiian pizzas. Wow. Really, Wow. I thanked him for the excellent service and went home to scarf down my pizza. And I felt a little bad. Did the manager realize I already got my money back? Not to mention the crazy bread. Cuz while I did have to wait a while, that was a very profitable pizza acquiring expedition. And that is some seriously good customer service! Better than I would have ever expected from Little Ceasar's. Far from being annoyed and deciding to go somewhere else next time I want pizza, I'm gonna go back to L.C. because they were so nice to me. But, when that next time happens to roll around, you can bet your pajamas that I will be leaving Harrison with his Father.
Feb 19, 2010
Here I sit in my 3 year old's toy strewn room, laying on the floor at the foot of his bed, reading a book while he slowly drifts off to sleep. I cannot help but look at him and my heart skips a beat. He is everything I ever wanted. It hurts a little, loving him this much. He catches me watching him and grins and scrunches up his shoulders. I smile too, and we spend a few moments just grinning and shrugging at each other. It's like feeling your whole self expand from the inside. I live for these moments. For joy like this. I have never felt so complete. What more could I ever want than this?
Oh, right. Another one. A little girl would be nice.
Oh, right. Another one. A little girl would be nice.
Feb 18, 2010
What Valentine's Day is Really About
Just in time for V-Day my husband came down with the flu. So he spent most of the weekend watching NCIS and the V marathon on Syfy and reading The Silmarilian. And I spent the weekend eating every piece of chocolate and candy that I could get my hands on. And then I also made cookies and ate them too. Good times.
So, while we are discussing Valentine's and all the gooey love garbage that goes with it, let's not forget to discuss the most important, some might say pivotal, part of all Valentine's Day activities: SHOES.
I always think that I have told you all of my most secret secrets, but I might have left one out. I am 5'8". I guess all my other confessions didn't include that tasty bit of info. So, yes. The top of my head is 5 feet, 8 inches from the ground. Which really isn't that tall. There are all kinds of women taller than me. What is the average, about 5'6"? Hmm, I'm gonna look it up. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oh. . . . . . . gee. . . The average height for women in the U.S. is 5'3". Now you know.
I tell you, it isn't all sunshine and rainbows being tall. It hard to find pants, strollers, or men tall enough. And for most of my life I have just felt TOO tall. My best friend was 5'2" (5'2 & 1/2", thank you very much), so I have always felt kind of, um, LARGE when I wasn't with my family. People often talk about tall women in vague exclamations of how enviable it is, but I've never heard them say why. I certainly couldn't ever see what was so great about it. All I knew was that I was taller than all the boys I liked, and I was always tripping over things.
I hear people complain about being short, but I was always jealous. The guys always seemed to like my short friends. I think there is something about a girl he can pick up with one hand and throw over his shoulder that is irresistible to a guy.
Here is a picture of me and some of my college roommates. Guess which one is me?
This is a picture with the short roommates, of course. I have a picture with some taller ones, but that would not have illustrated my point. Sheesh! It is no wonder I had a complex. I'm like a head taller than them!
And here is another picture that one of my roommates was kind enough to post on Facebook, for which I am very, very grateful.
This picture just cracks me up. I am like a giant. Why in the world am I so big? I look like I am standing on a stool or something, but I can't think of any reason why I would be.
Note to self: Rugby shirts make you look like a Rugby player. Please avoid.
So anyway, here I was three years into college; Tall and hating it. But then I went on a mission and things changed. Because it was a great, life-changing experience, but also because I had 8 different companions and all but 2 were the same height as me or taller. And even the short ones weren't very. For the first time in my life I wasn't associating with the tops of people's heads! (All right, I'm exaggerating here, but just go with it). And I had one companion who, though she was almost 6 Feet tall, wore heels all the time, and looked fantastic doing it. For the first time it occurred to me that I could be tall and proud of it.
So then I came home and married a guy 5 inches taller than me who loves high heels and I started wearing them and one day I suddenly realized that I actually LIKE being tall. When the Young Women come into Relief Society and we all get to stand up to do the theme and I find myself looking out over a sea of heads because I am wearing 4 inch heels, it makes me smile.
So, in honor of Valentine's Day, and as a gift to my husband, I got a pair of 5 inch heels. (I just went and measured them.) And they are really cute and pretty hard to walk in and I will probably be falling down even more than usual, but it is totally worth it! Happy Valentine's Day Shoes!
5" heels: $21.00.
Liking Your Height No Matter How Tall You Are: Priceless.
So, while we are discussing Valentine's and all the gooey love garbage that goes with it, let's not forget to discuss the most important, some might say pivotal, part of all Valentine's Day activities: SHOES.
I always think that I have told you all of my most secret secrets, but I might have left one out. I am 5'8". I guess all my other confessions didn't include that tasty bit of info. So, yes. The top of my head is 5 feet, 8 inches from the ground. Which really isn't that tall. There are all kinds of women taller than me. What is the average, about 5'6"? Hmm, I'm gonna look it up. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Oh. . . . . . . gee. . . The average height for women in the U.S. is 5'3". Now you know.
I tell you, it isn't all sunshine and rainbows being tall. It hard to find pants, strollers, or men tall enough. And for most of my life I have just felt TOO tall. My best friend was 5'2" (5'2 & 1/2", thank you very much), so I have always felt kind of, um, LARGE when I wasn't with my family. People often talk about tall women in vague exclamations of how enviable it is, but I've never heard them say why. I certainly couldn't ever see what was so great about it. All I knew was that I was taller than all the boys I liked, and I was always tripping over things.
I hear people complain about being short, but I was always jealous. The guys always seemed to like my short friends. I think there is something about a girl he can pick up with one hand and throw over his shoulder that is irresistible to a guy.
Here is a picture of me and some of my college roommates. Guess which one is me?
This is a picture with the short roommates, of course. I have a picture with some taller ones, but that would not have illustrated my point. Sheesh! It is no wonder I had a complex. I'm like a head taller than them!
And here is another picture that one of my roommates was kind enough to post on Facebook, for which I am very, very grateful.
This picture just cracks me up. I am like a giant. Why in the world am I so big? I look like I am standing on a stool or something, but I can't think of any reason why I would be.Note to self: Rugby shirts make you look like a Rugby player. Please avoid.
So anyway, here I was three years into college; Tall and hating it. But then I went on a mission and things changed. Because it was a great, life-changing experience, but also because I had 8 different companions and all but 2 were the same height as me or taller. And even the short ones weren't very. For the first time in my life I wasn't associating with the tops of people's heads! (All right, I'm exaggerating here, but just go with it). And I had one companion who, though she was almost 6 Feet tall, wore heels all the time, and looked fantastic doing it. For the first time it occurred to me that I could be tall and proud of it.
So then I came home and married a guy 5 inches taller than me who loves high heels and I started wearing them and one day I suddenly realized that I actually LIKE being tall. When the Young Women come into Relief Society and we all get to stand up to do the theme and I find myself looking out over a sea of heads because I am wearing 4 inch heels, it makes me smile.
So, in honor of Valentine's Day, and as a gift to my husband, I got a pair of 5 inch heels. (I just went and measured them.) And they are really cute and pretty hard to walk in and I will probably be falling down even more than usual, but it is totally worth it! Happy Valentine's Day Shoes!
5" heels: $21.00.
Liking Your Height No Matter How Tall You Are: Priceless.
Feb 3, 2010
How to Polish Your Plants
There are many, many things that I excel at. Cake Decorating and Photography are just a few that come to mind. Well, also Plants. And, apparently, writing good sentences, such as ones unto the similarity of this.
For today's lesson:
I realize I am probably telling you something you already know. But that is my job. That is actually what I have been assigned by the higher-ups to do; Tell you stuff you already know, like ....... I don't know, don't punch cows and stuff. Whatever.
So I live in a dusty house. I would swear that it is at least 3 times dustier than your average Utah home. And I deal with the dust by ignoring it. Which works wonders! Except today, for who knows what reason, I realized my plants were looking pretty sad. Ok, so the point!!
How to clean and polish your plants. Ta da!
The secret is mayonnaise. Mayonnaise will shine them up and make them look like plastic. (Which is the goal with live houseplants.) Lots of condiments have more than one use like this. You can use ketchup in your windowsill to seal up gaps, mustard will kill a beetle on contact, and pickles are great for throwing at people. Obviously. But the mayo on the plants really is real.
Here is my philodendron BEFORE. Can you see the dust? Can you tell that it is dirty enough to shock your mother-in-law and make her seriously concerned for her son's future?
No, I guess you really can't. You'll just have to trust me. It is worse than it looks.
And here is the plant AFTER polishing:
Wow! Just look at those leaves shine!
So, here is what you do:
Maybe you are worried about the smell. Don't worry , it will only smell like sulfur for a few weeks, and you probably won't even notice it anymore after a day or two. If neighbors come over and notice the smell, just blame it on them. That is Basic Hostessing 101.
So maybe there are some of you complaining that you can't even keep your plants alive. All plants are different, with differing needs, but it is safe to say that you are probably over watering them. Very few plants need to be watered every day. I water my plants no more than twice a month. The philodendron is one of my favorites because it starts to look very sad and droopy when it is thirsty and this reminds me to water all of them at once. And it works out perfectly. I also have an Umbrella Tree (or schefflera) that I stuck in an unused room once and forgot about for months. Barely even looked thirsty when I found it again. Just keep it out of direct sunlight and it never asks for a thing. I recommend finding a plant that is as needy as you are giving. I used to have plants that needed lots more love, attention, and water than I was willing to give and they have since died (actually, this happens with my relationships too). It is survival of the fittest at my house. You get on MY watering schedule, or you meet your doom.
The point is, there are plants out there that are beautiful and incredibly easy to maintain. I would tell you what more of them are, but then how would you ever learn anything? Most plants will tell you when they are getting thirsty, and it probably isn't as often as you think. Don't fret over your plant, don't water it every single day, give it the amount of sunlight the little tag that comes with it says to give it, and suddenly you'll find that you have had it for a whole year and it is still thriving.
So get out there, get a plant or two, polish those leaves (it doesn't really stink. I was only kidding), and feel like a botanical genius!
For today's lesson:
I realize I am probably telling you something you already know. But that is my job. That is actually what I have been assigned by the higher-ups to do; Tell you stuff you already know, like ....... I don't know, don't punch cows and stuff. Whatever.
So I live in a dusty house. I would swear that it is at least 3 times dustier than your average Utah home. And I deal with the dust by ignoring it. Which works wonders! Except today, for who knows what reason, I realized my plants were looking pretty sad. Ok, so the point!!
How to clean and polish your plants. Ta da!
The secret is mayonnaise. Mayonnaise will shine them up and make them look like plastic. (Which is the goal with live houseplants.) Lots of condiments have more than one use like this. You can use ketchup in your windowsill to seal up gaps, mustard will kill a beetle on contact, and pickles are great for throwing at people. Obviously. But the mayo on the plants really is real.
Here is my philodendron BEFORE. Can you see the dust? Can you tell that it is dirty enough to shock your mother-in-law and make her seriously concerned for her son's future?
No, I guess you really can't. You'll just have to trust me. It is worse than it looks.And here is the plant AFTER polishing:
Wow! Just look at those leaves shine!
So, here is what you do:
- Plop some mayo into a small bowl or plate.
- Put a paper towel or soft rag into your hand (right or left, the choice is yours).
- Get a little mayo on a corner of the rag and gentle rub it into a leaf. Continue rubbing and polishing until the mayo is rubbed in and it looks clean and shiny.
- Repeat with remaining leaves.
Maybe you are worried about the smell. Don't worry , it will only smell like sulfur for a few weeks, and you probably won't even notice it anymore after a day or two. If neighbors come over and notice the smell, just blame it on them. That is Basic Hostessing 101.
So maybe there are some of you complaining that you can't even keep your plants alive. All plants are different, with differing needs, but it is safe to say that you are probably over watering them. Very few plants need to be watered every day. I water my plants no more than twice a month. The philodendron is one of my favorites because it starts to look very sad and droopy when it is thirsty and this reminds me to water all of them at once. And it works out perfectly. I also have an Umbrella Tree (or schefflera) that I stuck in an unused room once and forgot about for months. Barely even looked thirsty when I found it again. Just keep it out of direct sunlight and it never asks for a thing. I recommend finding a plant that is as needy as you are giving. I used to have plants that needed lots more love, attention, and water than I was willing to give and they have since died (actually, this happens with my relationships too). It is survival of the fittest at my house. You get on MY watering schedule, or you meet your doom.
The point is, there are plants out there that are beautiful and incredibly easy to maintain. I would tell you what more of them are, but then how would you ever learn anything? Most plants will tell you when they are getting thirsty, and it probably isn't as often as you think. Don't fret over your plant, don't water it every single day, give it the amount of sunlight the little tag that comes with it says to give it, and suddenly you'll find that you have had it for a whole year and it is still thriving.
So get out there, get a plant or two, polish those leaves (it doesn't really stink. I was only kidding), and feel like a botanical genius!
Feb 2, 2010
The Best of 2009
Now I would like to preface this by saying that, while my taste is flawless, this isn't actually THE best of 2009. This isn't even really a list of my favorites from all the new things that came out last year because I am probably at least a couple years behind. (No jokes now.) I don't even listen to the radio, so how could I possibly tell you the best new song from 2009?
No, what this is is a list of my favorite things from last year. They might be new, they might be old, they might be neither new nor old, but just something I came into contact with, and liked and remembered enough to have them come to mind right now while I am typing this. Ok. Prepped enough? Yes, I hear you saying "Shut up already and get on it with!" So here we go!
Movies
Books
TV shows
Food
Recipes
Songs
Game
Number
So, anyone else want to do this? I would very much like to hear what everyone else's favorites of the year were. And did I miss anything? Should I include my favorite word or website or anything?
No, what this is is a list of my favorite things from last year. They might be new, they might be old, they might be neither new nor old, but just something I came into contact with, and liked and remembered enough to have them come to mind right now while I am typing this. Ok. Prepped enough? Yes, I hear you saying "Shut up already and get on it with!" So here we go!
Movies
- Star Trek
- Up
Books
- The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society
- The True Meaning of Smekday
- The Hunger Games
TV shows
- Doctor Who. The new one, of course. Yep, this is my very favorite show. And if that doesn't tell you just about everything there is to know about me, then I don't know what will.
- Warehouse 13
- Community. This show has some flaws, but there are just some things about it that make me laugh and laugh and laugh. I think it is my favorite new show of the year.
- Leverage
Food
- Pepperjack cheese. I am 31 years old, and only last year discovered pepperjack. And it has changed my life forever. I just now ate a pepperjack cheese quesadilla, and my happy belly and greasy keyboard can attest that it is delicious!!
Recipes
- Cheesy Roasted Red Pepper Dip (There. I hope this counts as forwarding the recipe to all those people I promised to send it to.)
- Tomato Chicken Alfredo
- Homemade Eclairs (And that's for you Alisha!)
Songs
- The Christmas Waltz (It was my favorite Christmas song this year. I just wanted to hear it all the time. That very rarely happens.)
- I Am The Highway - Audioslave
- Hey ya - Obadiah Parker (I never loved Outkast, but this version of the song makes my heart go all mushy. Sigh.)
Game
- Bananagrams (aka "Speed Scrabble")
- Runebound (for which my husband better consider himself pretty darn lucky)
Number
- 1,637,529. That number is just so hot right now!
So, anyone else want to do this? I would very much like to hear what everyone else's favorites of the year were. And did I miss anything? Should I include my favorite word or website or anything?
Jan 21, 2010
The Perks of Marriage
I know some of you are thinking "I am going to strangle my husband!" (or wife. Whatever) But don't do that. Because he really is a great guy. That's why you married him, after all. And being married is nice, most of the time. We all know there are a few things that make it hard, not the least of which is the fact that you are different after a few years of marriage than the young, virile, energetic, always-up-for-adventure single gal/guy you were when you got engaged.
I mean, who acts the same now as they did when they were dating?
Personally, I was too busy wanting him to like me to really let loose and be my unguarded self; i.e. eating corn-on-the-cob in front of him, laughing naturally (my actually laugh is mostly just a huge burst of a "BAAAAAAAA!!!" and tends to scare little kids), or tell him how much I really love watching TV. It's not like we don't care what our spouses think about us anymore, it's just that over time it seems we sort of forgot to put our Best Foot forward and all that's left is just our regular old Boring Foot.
So here we are, almost 8 years later, and I'm married to a guy who farts at the dinner table and reads "Building Application Frameworks" (which I'm going to bet is a lot LESS exciting than it sounds) in bed for fun. And he's married to a lady who snores like a trucker, and is always interrupting his relaxing nighttime reading by singing little ditties to him that go something like:
♪ "Nerd Reading! Reading for nerds. ♪ It's fun to read when you are a big nerd!♫
♫ Nerd Reading! But where are your glasses? ♪ How can you read without big dorky glasses?"♫
The lyrics aren't groundbreaking, but the tune is really quite catchy.
So, ANYWAY, the point is, after a while you realize you are married to someone who is just a person. A person who drives you crazy and makes you laugh and there are a whole lot of ups and downs, but BESIDES all the relationship stuff there are perks to just being married, which is why we have gathered together today. Besides the obvious ones of Companionship, Parenthood, and lots and lots of Money, there are perks you might not have expected or ever even thought about on your way into all this, which is a GOOD thing. Here are a few:
For Him:
For Her:
For Both:
So now it is time to sit down and think of some of the perks you enjoy about marriage. And spill it! I am truly interested to know!
I mean, who acts the same now as they did when they were dating?
Personally, I was too busy wanting him to like me to really let loose and be my unguarded self; i.e. eating corn-on-the-cob in front of him, laughing naturally (my actually laugh is mostly just a huge burst of a "BAAAAAAAA!!!" and tends to scare little kids), or tell him how much I really love watching TV. It's not like we don't care what our spouses think about us anymore, it's just that over time it seems we sort of forgot to put our Best Foot forward and all that's left is just our regular old Boring Foot.
So here we are, almost 8 years later, and I'm married to a guy who farts at the dinner table and reads "Building Application Frameworks" (which I'm going to bet is a lot LESS exciting than it sounds) in bed for fun. And he's married to a lady who snores like a trucker, and is always interrupting his relaxing nighttime reading by singing little ditties to him that go something like:
♪ "Nerd Reading! Reading for nerds. ♪ It's fun to read when you are a big nerd!♫
♫ Nerd Reading! But where are your glasses? ♪ How can you read without big dorky glasses?"♫
The lyrics aren't groundbreaking, but the tune is really quite catchy.
So, ANYWAY, the point is, after a while you realize you are married to someone who is just a person. A person who drives you crazy and makes you laugh and there are a whole lot of ups and downs, but BESIDES all the relationship stuff there are perks to just being married, which is why we have gathered together today. Besides the obvious ones of Companionship, Parenthood, and lots and lots of Money, there are perks you might not have expected or ever even thought about on your way into all this, which is a GOOD thing. Here are a few:
For Him:
- A Greeting Card Company: He now has someone that will send Thank You cards to his Grandma, and Birthday cards to his mother (This list is meant to be general, and not necessarily specific to me. My husband doesn't have a wife who does this, but some men do, and they are very lucky.)
- A purse. While still being manly and not overloading his pockets, he gets to enjoy the benefits of a purse. He can have his wife carry stuff in her purse for him, like his cell phone, wallet, scriptures, wire cutters, zip-lock baggy full of worms, etc.
- A Spider Killer. That's right. I am the Spider Killer in this relationship. I believe it is truly important that each relationship have one, so keep that in mind when searching for your eternal companion.
- A memory bank. Now he no longer has to remember his phone number or the phone numbers of any of his friends and family, his social security number, important dates and birthdays, directions to his mom's house, how old he is, etc. His memory can essentially shut down without negatively affecting his life at all!
For Her:
- Insta-heater. When her feet are cold at night she can just stick them on his legs and shazam! Warm Toes!
- A Comforter: Waking up from a nightmare is no longer a big deal because HE is there.
- A Pipe-thawer-outer. When the pex pipes freeze in the middle of the night, in the dead of winter, and someone is going to have to crawl under the house with a blow dryer to try to thaw them out, the wife can happily curl up in the warmth of her bed, thanking her lucky stars for her gender.
- A Noise Investigator. Hear an unexplained bump in the night? Now that you are a married woman, you no longer have to curl up under the covers with only a finger-sized hole to breath out of, replaying your favorite episodes of The Office in your head until you forget all about that weird sound you heard and just fall back to sleep already. Now you can just send your man to check it out!
- And I just realized that all of the benefits for woman have to do with night time. I think what that really means is that I'm scared of the dark and the cold. I'm positive it doesn't mean anything deeper than that.
- A back cracker. Without my husband, I would live in constant pain and misalignment.
For Both:
- A built in excuse. Don't want to go somewhere? Blame it on your spouse!
- A checkpoint before you walk out the door: Someone to say ''Wait sweetie, your skirt is tucked into your nylons again, or, "Hey! Your fly is down" before you waltz out into the open for all the world to see. Which is why Richard gets so mad at me when He realizes he forgot to do his hair and has been walking around with a fuzzy head all day and I didn't say anything! (Or even notice) That is my job!
- Being with someone who gets you. If my husband ever sat me down, and wanted to sing painfully cheesy loves songs to me, like Enrique Iglesias, or Richard Marx, I would probably have to punch him in the head. But he doesn't. Which is why we are still happily married.
- Learning to Truly Communicate with Another Person: Sometimes it feels like trying to communicate with my husband is about as effective as exchanging information through an elaborate dance involving The Running Man, beating each other with sticks, and wordy legal contracts. BUT, if we stick with it, every once in a while we actually manage to really understand each other. And THAT is priceless.
So now it is time to sit down and think of some of the perks you enjoy about marriage. And spill it! I am truly interested to know!
The Saddest Happy
So adoption is a miracle, and it is wonderful and has blessed my life in countless ways, but sometimes it just sucks. I subscribe to this really great blog called The Happiest Sad written by a girl who placed her baby for adoption 9 or 10 months ago. I love it. Her insight is fantastic and stuff I think I need to hear. Recently she gave a list of questions that a birth parent might want to ask when choosing an adoptive couple. It was a good idea and included lots of good questions, but also reminded me how much pressure there is on us to be perfect. Which is impossible. And not just because it is actually impossible but because every girl's idea of perfect is different.
But one of her questions bothered me. It was why the couple chose adoption. Is it something they are both excited about, or is it a second best way of having a family? If I step back, I can see that it is a good question. You don't want birth parents who are bitter about the whole thing. But at the same time, it sounds like adoption should have been my first choice. And I am sorry, but who would choose this? I'm not one of those women who is grateful not to have to go through the pains of childbirth. Quite the opposite. All I want is to have children, but that is only possible if a girl I don't even know happens to decide she likes me based on a picture and a paragraph. What if your ability to get pregnant was contingent upon the whims of a stranger, or their parents?
I do sound a little bitter, don't I? I know part of it is just where I currently am in the adoption process. We have been in the adoption pool for 14 months. We have had a few nibbles in that time and every time we try not to get our hopes up and every time we fail. I imagine it's a little like having a miscarriage. I know I shouldn't fall in love with that baby, but I can't help myself. Someone dangles a baby in front of me just long enough for me to hope, and then yanks it away. Why would I choose this?
The flip side is looking at it all from the perspective of 3 years ago. Harrison's birth mother chose us and 2 months later we took our baby home. And she is wonderful and he is everything. I couldn't love him more. I couldn't have produced anything as amazing as him. So, no, adoption is not my first choice, but I am immensely grateful for it, because it brought me my little boy. I love him and I love his birth mother and I am truly happy that she is part of our lives. It is a blessing I never would have chosen, but who ever said I knew what was best for me?
Yeah, adoption is hard, but I have faith. I know it will work out eventually and someday we will bring another baby home. Because I know it is not just based on the whims of girl but is carefully watched over by a very loving Father in heaven. I know it. Even when it is hard I still know it. I wish it was easier, but that is not really how life works. So for now, all we can do is wait. Wait and pray. . . And wait some more. . . . . . And occasionally slip our pass along cards into pregnancy test packages.
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