Say "Cheese!" ... It's PICTURE TIME!

Hello, my darlings! Yes, I'm back ... I didn't slice off a finger or disembowel myself when I was chopping up an onion or the celery or carrots in the soup. And it was good soup. Michael ever said so!

For being so patient and lovely, I've decided that it's more than time to post pictures. So ... YAAAAY!!! *insert waving arms a la Kermit D. Frog*

Of course, I shall narrate the pictures. Because I'm all about gilding the lily when it comes to my children's pictures. :P


Bath time:

 

Do you think that Bucket's at all excited for bathtime?

Nah, me neither.

 

Hugging makes the world a better place. Even bathtime ... and, believe you me, from what the kidlets do and say? Bathtime is nigh impossible to improve.

But don't you agree that if everyone gave and got more hugs that the world would be a better place? And even more earth-shattering and wondrous would be if some of those hugs were with a panda! Seriously. Ask Neil Gaiman. He'll totally back me up on this one.

 

"Yo, yo, mah peeps. Whaddup?"
Seriously ... I think my little boy is about the cutest in the universe sometimes.
Okay, like 98% of the time. (When he's whining and screaming and trantruming ... well, then I might buy that there are sweeter, cuter little boys. Maybe.)

 

And we couldn't leave BUCKET out! No, no. No one puts Bucket in a corner!
Besides Mutti (my mom)'s glasses are the BEST for adorable baby pictures.

I mean, really, don't you agree?

Besides that, I'm still getting better. I'm coughing ... but my nose isn't all stuffy and I've gotten my voice (almost completely) back.
The van's still in the shop because the warranty company's trying to pull a bit of a fast one on us ("Sure, we agreed to pay for the repair! We got you a used transmission. But we don't want to pay for the diagnostic or the flush!" ... Um, yeah. But those are PART OF THE REPAIRS. Seriously people. Just suck it up and let me get my van back. And you better pray that that transmission, with its one-year warranty, works until this warranty runs out. Grrr.

That and I woke up to Bruise screaming ... he had climbed from his crib into Bucket's ... and then SOAKED himself and her sheet. Honestly ... and oh, it was 6:30 in the morning. When they sleep normally until at least 7 or 7:30 ... 8 or 8:30 if I'm lucky.

*sigh*

But, really ... besides those two blips (the van and the plague) ... and money being tight (but, really, who ISN'T it tight for? --- And if you can answer, "Me," in all honesty ... um ... pass some my way, okay? Then we'll pay off the van, which will allow us to pay off Michael's loan, and then we can work towards paying off the house. And life will be happy and carefree and I can buy books -- lots of books -- and have college accounts for the kidlets and a nice, solid savings account, and a retirement account. And I won't worry at all ever again ... Until I start freaking out about something else. :P)

So, yeah. Things are okay.

Poe ... was a genius!

I mean, we already know that Edgar Allen Poe is the master of the horror and detective novel ... but he has the BEST answer for "Why is space dark?"

Edgar Allen Poe (of all people) in his 1848 essay Eureka:

“Were the succession of stars endless, then the background of the sky would present us a uniform luminosity, like that displayed by the Galaxy –since there could be absolutely no point, in all that background, at which would not exist a star. The only mode, therefore, in which, under such a state of affairs, we could comprehend the voids which our telescopes find in innumerable directions, would be by supposing the distance of the invisible background so immense that no ray from it has yet been able to reach us at all.” (from the mental_floss blog)

And, as an added bonus, let's throw in some Vincent Price (another of those actors that I adore!) and some Tim Burton ... since it's a trifecta of terror!!



Enjoy!

Just thinking ...

The good thing about one site I try to check daily, is that I end up remembering dates ... like today.

I do believe what George Santayana said: "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."
I feel this way about the Holocaust and, do a slightly lesser degree, to the situation we are in now. For me, September 11, 2001, was such a surreal day. I walked to the school down the street, where I volunteered (to get into the Ed Program at my college). When I got to Leigh's classroom, she was crying. "Did you hear what happened?!?" she asked.
All I could think was that one of our first-graders had been hurt or killed.
"They crashed a plane into the World Trade Center!"

I'm not very well-traveled. To me, New York is similar to Shangri-La. I have heard stories about it ... seen pictures/paintings ... But it could be like Disneyland or the Magical Land of Oz in how "real" it is. Oh, theoretically, I KNOW that it exists. But ... well .. yeah.

Don't get me wrong. What happened IS and WAS a complete tragedy. It should never be repeated. BUT, when it happened, it felt so much like my dreams do that I could hardly believe that it really was for real.

So, yeah. When I think about that day ... I just remember how surreal everything felt. I knew that the world had changed. That things wouldn't be the same as they had been just hours before. That we, as a nation, wouldn't feel so smug and complacent. That we would start to FEAR and HATE another country/race/people.

And I also think about how NICE it was when we, as a nation, actually were proactive. How we displayed our patriotism and our determination through flags on just about every surface (however we could). It was like a Fourth of July parade in September, October, December wherever you looked.

And I still am sad that we've stopped. That we've got people not supporting our troops. (Don't get me wrong. I have no idea, really, whether this war is really for the best. So, while I don't necessarily support the WAR, I firmly believe that we need to support our brothers and sisters who are doing the fighting for us, for our country. They deserve at least that much. ... Of course, I have friends who are in the Air Force, so maybe I'm a little biased.)

That's probably as political as I'll get (at least regarding that topic. My firm stance is really about babies -- abortion ::strongly against. I mean, hello! You don't want to have kids? Don't have sex. Or use at least two forms of birth control. It's not that hard! Or adoption is a good option. I think that open-ended adoption is great! Let your child know his/her biological past. Especially good for cases in which a transplant is needed!:: and the right to NIP [nurse in public] ::strongly for. Babies have just as much right to eat in public as the most vocal "I'm offended by the IDEA that there's a nipple under your clothes!!" -type person.::)

So, yeah, there you go. My little tirades and a bit of reflection.

Is it bad that ... as much as I'm getting some good feedback regarding how I'm doing at my calling at church ... I really don't enjoy it? I actually, kinda, DREAD it? I mean, I KNOW that it's important. And I know that I'm going to grow and learn tons while I'm in it ... but it's quite a bit of work. And I still, even though I've been trained, don't feel like I know ANYTHING.
But, well... I'm determined to TRY in this calling. What's the worst things that could happen?
ANSWER: A horde of angry ward members comes to our house in the middle of the night, armed with torches and pitchforks, upset about what a lousy cubmaster I am and frustrated that their boys aren't getting their badges.
SOLUTION: If they feel that I'm not doing a good-enough job, they are more than welcome to take over. Since I really DON'T know what in the H I'm doing. And I'm more than willing to turn it over, if they'd like.
No, really. Try me!

I've been having odd dreams. Which, for me, is kind of normal.
But in this last dream, I was at a different ward's building. And I felt really, really welcome. I miss the old ward ... before the reorganization. Maybe I'd just feel more "in" if the callings were all filled. And if I didn't have to have a calling. Ha ha ha.

Maybe the van will be fixed today? Or maybe tomorrow. It'd be nice to get it back. Even if I'm still kinda snuffy and have that smoker's hack that I get when I'm all sicky-pants.

But, good news, I finished Thursday Next: The First Among Sequels (Book 5) by Jasper Fforde. That made me happy. Since I can't renew it. And it's due Friday. Now to finish a book by Marcus Zusak and some others that are due soon.

Oh, and "Blades of Glory?" I think it's pretty hilarious. But that might just be me. And Michael ... even though he had no real expectations for it. But he was glad that I put it on the Queue.

My bog plans for today, if you care? I'm making soup. And I'm going to eat that soup. And save some for Michael and the kidlets' dinner. And that means that I'll be cutting and onion. And that's going to be dangerous. Since when I'm around cut onions, my eyes blur up (I'm sensitive) ... and cutting an onion when my eyes are blurred?
Well, if you don't hear from me for a few weeks, I think you'll have an idea what's gone on. (But, since I haven't lopped off a finger yet, I think things may be okay. Maybe.)

Some things that suck ...

1. I'm still sick.

2. The van's still in the shop ... and the warranty is only covering a used transmission. *grumble*

3. One of my friend's motorcyle was in a hit-and-run (his motorcycle was HIT while it was PARKED. And the dumb bunny didn't have the guts to leave a note. SUCK!!)

4. Another friend rolled his car. He's fine. Lola, his car ... she's a goner. But she was noble in protecting him. He's really bummed, though. Can't blame him.

5. Madeleine L'Engle died. I am seriously saddened by this. I've enjoyed whatI've read of her works: the fiction (A Wrinkle in Time, A Swiftly Tilting Planet, Many Waters, A Wind in the Door ...) and I really have enjoyed a religious non-fiction book she wrote. She was a fine lady.
It makes me sad when people I admire die.

6. My voice is pretty much gone. The one funny thing about that is that it makes me sound like my cousin, Sarah, when I've made her laugh to the point of tears. Her voice takes on a certain breathless quality. And I have that right now. At least, when I'm not croaking.

7. Since Bucket and I are still hacking (and I'm a snot-factory), we're not going to church today. So this means that I haven't been in Relief Society or Sunday School for about a month and a half. (Two weeks volunteering in Nursery, one week when I was crying in the van over feeling overwhelmed in my calling [partly because I was PMS-ing], two more weeks in Nursery, and this week where I'm trying not to yell at the kiddos and trying not to overdose myself with a cocktail of various OTC and homeopathic cold remedies ... and hacking up some of the nastiest mucus in the entire hemisphere. And, for the last couple of days, everything smell and taste has been experienced through a veil of snot. I cannot wait to get over this bug.)

8. I'm tired of being too tired to read my library books. I have a few that are going to be due soon ... and I haven't read them. And that annoys the crap out of me.

9. Bruise won't stay in his crib. He climbs out, pulls out all the toys, plays with the nightlight until the bulb filament is broken, and ... well, just drives my mental health number higher than it should be. (Seriously, though. I put the kiddos to bed around 10:45. Only NOW have they decided that it might be better to listen to Mommy and stay in their cribs and fall asleep. Yeah, it's been like 45 minutes that I have to go BACK in their room and be all, "NO! You will stay IN. YOUR. CRIB!!! SLEEP! I don't like being mean-mommy. So you need to listen the first time I ask you to do something, please. Now, respect my authority!!!" And then I have to hope, hope, HOPE that they listen. Or that they get too tired to disobey anymore.

--- Oh, and my sixteen-year-old cat, Ginger? She woke me this morning my sleeping on my head. So that I'd get up and let her get out to eat. Good thing I love her that much. And that she's light ... and blocked the sun a bit. ^_^

Must have been a slow news day ...

I saw this first featured on CuteOverload, Michael saw it in the newspaper ...
...
And now on YOUTUBE!!



Strangely enough, the male newscaster at the end? We've gone to church with him. Michael (cooking at the stove) recognized his voice ... I started pointing and saying, "I know him!!"

Yeah, we know that guy. Maybe we should give Jared a hard time about reporting on swimming cats. :P

Bonus story #1

Yeah, here's the first story from "Michael and Allanna History 101: Before they were Michael and Allanna"

The infamous Wink-Em Game:

For FHE (Family Home Evening -- It's really hard to explain. If you don't know what it is, comment. I'll write it up later. I'm tired now.), the University First ward combined their groups into a big game of Wink-Em, which is a pioneer-era game.

The main point of WInk-Em, is that you have a circle of chairs ... like in musical chairs ... but the chairs face the inside of the circle. Girls sit in the chairs. Guys stand behind the chair of their (girl) partner, looking down at her, their hands clasped behind their backs. One guy stands behind an empty chair. The girls watch him.

The guy behind the empty chair winks at a girl. Her goal is to get out of her chair and reach the partnerless guy before her partner can stop her (by putting his hands on her shoulders, preventing her from leaving her chair). Her partner's goal is to stop her, like I mentioned in the preceding parenthetical phrase. If the girl evades her partner and makes it to the empty chair, the winking guy becomes her new partner and her old partner goes back to the now-empty chair to wink. If she doesn't make it, the partnerless guy has to try winking at someone else.

OKAY. I hope that makes sense.
This is happening back when A and I were seeing each other. People decided to switch things up by having the BOYS be sitting in the chairs and the girls behind them.
Of course, A and I are partnering.

Well, he's kinda popular. He's a fun guy. And someone winks at him. So I miss his shoulders and grab on to the bottom of his coat.
(Aside: I don't like sports because I'm kinda competitive. I hate losing. and I'm not very good at sports ... so I avoid them so I won't lose.)

There I am, hanging on the back of his coat. I'm dragged to where I'm on the back of the metal fold-up chair, caught on my hips, and then I'm chair-surfing though the circle. The chair falls and I'm dragged along for a foot or two. As A is about to sit down, he notices that I'm there, panting, on the ground, my white-knuckled fingers still holding his jacket.

"Oh, you're still there?"

I nod.

I won that round.

And then we repeated for a while. Finally, they switched to the more traditional girls-in-the-chairs ... I keep A as my partner.

Eventually, the game is called. I'm rather beat up and trying SO. HARD. not to cry.
All I really want at this point is a bottle of aspirin and a dark corner in which to lick my many, many wounds.

A couple guys came up to me and told me that I should play lineman in football. I try to retain my composure and thank them.

After my bruises bloom, I have goose eggs on each calf and, seriously, purple Nike swooshes on my hips. I enjoy pulling part of my jeans' waistline down past my high-rise panties to show my friends at school. As I'm showing Jenny and Chauna my battle scars, a guy across the room shouts, "How'd you do THAT?!?"
And then I'm embarassed that he's seen part of my panties. Oh, I'm a slut!

A few months later, I go to an Institute class (Not Brother Kirby's) and I run into a couple from that college town. They remember me. Because of that game of Wink-Em.
I die a little.

What brings this around to Michael, you may ask? I'll tell you.

After we were engaged (or was it after we were married?), we were talking about that game. He was there. This was before I knew him at all.

He remembers that game. And being impressed that I was that ... DETERMINED.
He thought it was cool.

Thanks be. Or else I'd have had to die a little bit more.
Oy.

How we got engaged ...

So, I finally fulfilled my promise to write about how Michael and I got together.

I figure I can regale y'all with how we got engaged. It's kinda funny ... in the way that just being ME is kinda funny. Or how wearing your sexiest high heels and then slipping in a pile of flounders is funny.

Wow, that was a really random simile.
Not that I've slipped in a pile of flounders. But I have fallen down half a flight of stairs at church. At least, only one person saw me. So I didn't have to DIE. OF. SHAME.

BUT, HOW MICHAEL AND I GOT ENGAGED ....

Back story, we had been dating for a while (six months). Unbeknownst to me, Michael had saved up money by not eating for about a month (well, he didn't buy food. I'm sure that he did eat. Whenever we were together, I don't remember him passing up food.) and had taken our friend, T (that friend of mine who brought us together, how I adore her!!!), to help him shop for a ring.

Of course, not thinking anything of it, I had mentioned that if I got a ring, I wanted this shape and maybe this size. And that I preferred gold. And he totally remembered all this stuff!

So, there were were, we had had our sixth month dating anniversary. We were down south, visiting my folks. I had to go to my part-time weekend job at the plywood mill and clean the presses (NOT the spreaders. That was a one time occurance. Since I'm a little short and busty for my size, I had spreader glue caked from mid-breast to my knees. Ick!!).
I was not thrilled about going to work. I would have much rather spent time with Michael and my family. BUT, I had to be responsible and off to work I went. While there, I had time to think as I worked. And I asked/prayed if there were any reason that Michael and I shouldn't continue to date? If there would be any reason that I shouldn't marry him? (If I shouldn't/wasn't going to marry him ... would there be any reason to continue this? Should I get out of this relationship and not waste any more of our time? ... Yeah, I may be a hopeless romantic, but I try and be a realist at times.)

And I couldn't find a single reason why I shouldn't marry him. Not a single one.

I had no idea that he was really thinking of marrying me... I just wanted to be prepared. Especially if I was going to get another of those "You're cute, BUT..." lines. *grumbles*

SO, then I drive back home, and Mom (who Michael has told, not asked, ha ha ha, that he's proposing to me) helps me get my nasty, nasty boots off. My stepdad is going off about quizzing me on what's more expensive than gold ... He often confuses me ... and I'm playing along. "Um, platinum?" "No..." "Uranium?" "No ...." "Plutonium?"
And I'm just shaking my head wondering why this stepdad of mine is so weird.

And Michael corners me in the kitchen before I can jump into the shower. I'm in my gnarly work shirt and jeans. I have sawdust all over me ... I smell of bark mulch, hydrolic fluid and the glue used in plywood. I can hardly stand myself. I know that when I get into the shower, I'll have black snot and the water running out of my hair will be a terrible color. I stink.

But Michael stands about a handspan away from me. I tell him not to be so close because I'm gross. And he responds, "I like being close to you." And I tell him, "But you shouldn't be. Because you're going to smell like the mill. And then the car will smell like the mill as we drive back tonight." (Since that was the plan. Return to our college town and get a good night's sleep before church. Or, at least, a decent night's sleep.)

Instead of letting me go take a shower, he pulls out a little blue leather box with a golden clasp.

My inner monologue: Oh. It's a box.
Michael opens the box.
My inner monologue: There's a ring. ... A diamond ring. ... My birthstone's a diamond. Hey, wait. People don't just go around giving out diamond ringssss .... Ohhhh..!
Me: Really??!? (I think my mouth's hanging open at this point.)
Michael: Yes.
I kiss him.
Michael: Is that a yes?
And I respond with something a little nicer than what I first thought to say ... which was, "Duh!"

And then I got to put on my pretty sparkly ... and get that shower I SO, SO, SO desperately wanted. Then Michael and I got to plan when we would get married. We settled for the Friday before Spring Break, so we could have time to settle into married life and have a honeymoon before school started back in session. My mom was hoping we'd wait for summer. She really wasn't ready to give me up. But she was pretty graceful about it.

Like I said, life is good.

How I Met My Husband ...

The story of Michael and me is ... well, not the most simple one out there. So expect lots of asides (if you've read my bloggings before, you'll totally know that this is not anything out of the norm. ^_^).

The short version of how I met Michael can be summed up, through my friend T.
But life isn't ever quite that simple to effectively sum up ANYTHING in just one word, phrase, or sentence. So ... here goes:

I'll start with my friend T. She and I have been friends since my Mom and I moved back from Seattle (the summer after 5th grade). Now, during our senior year of high school (at different high schools. We attended the same ward/congregation, though), her folks moved up north. She stayed with a friend of the family until summertime. I followed in the fall ... my college dorm wasn't terribly far (maybe a 45-minute drive) from her folks' new place.

I wasn't terribly fond of the singles ward at my college. It wasn't as friendly as my home ward ... and, to be blunt, there weren't many boys. And the promising-looking ones (face it, I am shallow like that) were either taken or wouldn't ever give me a second glance.

So, with T's gently prodding, I started attending church in the next town down. These wards (there were two at the time) had a totally different flavor. I didn't feel so apart, it felt less like a meat market (There were BOYS. LOTS OF BOYS. I like boys.) ... It just felt so much more ... RIGHT to be there. So, I was "technically" inactive in the ward I SHOULD have been attending (since, in our church, you attend according to where you live), even though I went to church every single week.

At one activity, there was a dinner-date auction. The girls got to bid on dinners that the boys made ... but you didn't know who made the dinner. T had her heart set on a pair of lunchboxes (a dinner-date for two girls and two boys), and thanks to our dear friend Brooke (who's hilarious and darling and I adore her!) we won the bidding. And that's the start of how I started dating A.
MIND YOU, we were not boyfriend/girlfriend. But it was nice to have someone who liked me, even though he told me that "You're cute, but we're not going to work out." And we cuddled, which was nice. I like feeling wanted.
BUT, after a few months ... let's see, he and I saw each other from the day after Thanksgiving 1999 until the next February, I think? And we were still friends and I hung out at his apartment (he had wonderful roommates, who I still correspond with now) ... so a lot of people didn't know that we weren't seeing each other like that anymore.

BUT, T, BJ, and I had planned a triple-date to the beach. Just for fun and to get out. Now, I had invited A's younger brother, M ... but he had to cancel (since his mom didn't want him to go. And neither M nor A called me. I had to get the info from one of A's roommates. *sigh* BJ's date cancelled. T had invited Michael ... so it became a "polygamy date," as we jokingly refer to dates where one gender outnumbers the other.

WAIT! I've gotten ahead of myself. I did mention that most people in the University wards (where T and A and I and most of our friends attended church) didn't know that A and I weren't seeing each other anymore. Well, while Michael was there, before we were taking off for the beach, I was on the phone with either A or one of his roommates, getting the news that M wasn't going to make it. I wasn't heartbroken ... but I did fume a little (okay, if you know me, you know that I'm a tad bit dramatic), and I said, "I'm SO glad that I'm not dating him anymore!" Besides that, Michael thought that A and I were still dating.

AND BEFORE THAT ... T's cousin had a party. A "Mormon kegger" as we like to jokingly refer to it. We had a keg, oh yes. Of ROOT BEER. And, at that point, A and I were sorta mostly dating. I remember meeting Michael ... as in, someone pointed him out as they were introducing the room. I recall thinking, "He's cute. But I'm dating A. Oh well." (NOTE: this party is important for another story in Michael and my history. One that I wasn't aware of until we got married. Which made me more certain that ever that he is, indeed, about the perfectest match I could have.)

Shortly after the "kegger," T had told my that she liked Michael (and she was more than fine when he and I started dating. I asked. Her crushes were often short-lived. Which proved lucky, indeed, for me in this case.) because he had long, curly eyelashes. So, before I knew him (except for knowing who he was), after Sacrament meeting [it's kinda like Communion, but we have members of the ward giving talks instead of just our ecclesiastical leader ...], I went up to him, looked at his eyelashes and said, "T's right! You do have pretty eyelashes!" And he blushed. And I felt AWFUL, since I blushed easily, too. (Some of my high school friends would see who could make my ears turn purple from blushing first. Like a sad, sad contest.)

NOW, looping back through the stories, back to the polygamy date. So, when you have three girls and one boy, what do you think happens?
Yes, we all flirted with Michael. It was a fun day at the coast. Michael was more familiar with the area, having lived here longer, so he got to be the navigator. T drove, and BJ called shotgun. So I got to sit next to Michael. And I "let" him read my magazines with me. I'd turn to a page in Seventeen and ask him what he thought of the clothes. And he actually played along. Which was cool. And I started to crush on him.
So, I had to ask my failsafe question. The question that MUST be answered before I can let my heart go ... "Do you like cats?"
(And then I worried. What if he were allergic? I already knew that my Ginger was a good judge of character. [Long Story] And my first boyfriend had once asked if i were to choose between him and Ginger, who would it be? Answer: Ginger. I've known her longer. [And I was SOOO right.] Or what if Michael HATED cats? Or thought they were fun to shoot at??? What if he were a sociopathic cat-hater???)

And he answered, "I can tolerate them. My family has a cat."
And I breathed a sigh of relief. If he can tolerate cats, then this crush was okay to enjoy.

And then we played at the coast and Michael gave BJ the Heimlich maneuver (known in certain circles as the "Heimlich remover") when a tense moment occured in a game of "Fluffy Bunnies" (HINT: Don't laugh with 7+ marshmallows in your mouth. Okay?), and we got back at the end of the day.

As we were unloading T's van, I had grabbed the last of the stuff in the car. My arms were loaded. And Michael came out and asked if there was anything that he could take. So I, being a little vain about how much I can carry -- I'm tough!!, flippantly replied, "How about my heart?"
And he countered, "I thought I already had that."

And there, dear readers, I fell for that man. Yes, it was cheesy. But I like me some cheese.

That was the day before my 19th birthday. He asked me out for a date four days later. Six months and a day after our first date, we were engaged. And five months after that, we got married.

Life is good.

Something to make me smile ...

This is one of my favorite movie dialogue bits. I love it to pieces and find it very romantical:

Ivy Walker: When we are married, will you dance with me? I find dancing very agreeable. Why can you not say what is in your head?

Lucius Hunt: Why can you not stop saying what is in yours? Why must you lead, when I want to lead? If I want to dance I will ask you to dance. If I want to speak I will open my mouth and speak. Everyone is forever plaguing me to speak further. Why? What good is it to tell you you are in my every thought from the time I wake? What good can come from my saying that I sometimes cannot think clearly or do my work properly? What gain can rise of my telling you the only time I feel fear as others do is when I think of you in harm? That is why I am on this porch, Ivy Walker. I fear for your safety before all others. And yes, I will dance with you on our wedding night.

Yes, I love The Village for having great writing. And one of my favorite declarations of movie-love.
My sad, spiky heart softens and I am nearly moved to tears.
I am a hopeless romantic.
(Not so hopeless since I found my Michael ... but before that? HOPELESS.)

So, any favorite movie declarations of love? I'm all ears.

In other news ...

I know I'm late in posting this. My bad.

BUT --- Yesterday, Bruise was all grunting and grabbing his diaper. So I asked him if he needed a clean diaper.

B: Diaper??
Me: Do you want a diaper change?
B: Diaper??!? *runs off down the hall to the bathroom door and starts pounding on it*
Me: You wanna use the potty?
B: *pounds until I open the door* Diaper!!

Then we get his clothes off ... his diaper is full of poo ... and he proudly sits on the potty ... and we wait a few minutes. Bucket comes in to see what's going on. SHE wants to sit on the potty, too. Well, tough.

Bruise gets up, I wipe off his poo-encrusted buttocks (He's gonna LOVE this post when he's older. Oh, yes).

I take a glance over ... Well, I'll be! He's gone potty in the potty!!
So I congratulate him, we exchange some high-fives ... and life is good.

Well, until he starts dragging out the videos again. :P

But still, I suppose that this means that I'm going to have to be on top of things, potty-wise. *sigh*

God give me strength.

Testing, testing ...

Well, what do you think?

Okay, funny thing to add -- Bruise just finished nursing, and, following my lead ... *snickers* ... he smacked his lips and went "Ahh-hh!" You know, "ahh-hh," like people do in soda commercials?!?!?

That has just about made up for most of today ... the kids and I are sick. A cold, really. And Bucket's ALL SNUFFED UP, Bruise has got the runny nose ... and Mommy?? Well, I'm snuffed up and have a sore throat which threatens to slump into laryngitis at any moment.
(It's days like this that I realize how much [and it's a LOT] I yell at my children. ... And if I ask nicely, they don't really listen, so it's really ... um ... FRUSTRATING. Because I don't want to be "the mom that yelled," but I'm at a little bit of a loss to figure out how to discipline these ankle-biters without devouring them ... like hamsters do. Ew.)
Oh. And she threw up on me this morning. Yeah.
Joy.

Good thing I was planning on doing laundry anyways.

But, yes, with a house full of sickies, well, the kiddos are whiney (Bucket won't let me leave the room without breaking into Ear. Splitting. Shrieks. Of. DOOM!!! and crying, the incessant crying!

And Bruise? Well, overall, he's not terrible ... but he keeps switching. On. And. Off. The. Television. Which drives me CRAZY. Or then he'll pull out videos and DVDs, which he KNOWS are VERBOTEN. *dramatic headshake*

I will live. I will handle this. I will take deep, calming, cleansing breaths. I will recite scriptures in my head (and since I'm not a historian, I'm rather limited. Oh well. Maybe, amid the ... like, THREE*... that I know, I'll make up some good ones.), and take my little darlings (no matter how much my teeth are clenching as I say it, it still counts to say "my darlings," right?) and hug them and cuddle them.
Because they do deserve it. They're good kids. Good kids who occasionally drive. Me. INSANE.
But i do love them. And they deserve to have a mommy that's not raising her voice all. The. Frakkin'. TIME.
Right?

So, um, don't mind me. Just listen to Bucket coughing and ... EXERCISING her lungs, keep an eye on Bruise ... and I'll just relax here in my steaming tub o' guilt-a-plenty.

Brightens my day

So, my fantabulous and dear friend, Kari ...
Well, let me start over, even thought I have covered the IMPORTANT PARTS (That I have a friend, Kari, and that she is fantabulous).

SO --- Kari has this blog. It's great. Lots of pictures and family stories. It really lets me keep tabs on her since we've moved from the University wards.

NOW, she does a little feature on Sundays. One of her relatives (a great-aunt, right?) wrote a booklet/essay on "How to Be a Lady." It's quaint and delightful. How to dress, how to act ... all that good stuff is being covered.
(And, as I suspected, I have left lots of room for improvement. *nods*)

ANOTHER feature (wait for it, here's where the story REALLY takes off) is what she calls (and what I wish *I* had been brilliant enough to come up with ... but I know that she'll let me BORROW her wonderiffic idea, because she's all amazing like that) "Fabulous Friends Wednesday."

And, so, guess what?

IT'S ME this week.
And I feel all special for it.

So, go, go, go ... read about how great she thinks I am! Here's the link!

Oh, don't I have her fooled!!
Okay, okay, there's that self-depreciating humor that I've specialized in acting up again. (All right, now THAT comment I just made makes it sound like some kind of ailment that old people get. Like brusitis or mange or something. NOt that old folks get mange! ... At least none that I've met. ... Maybe they do, though. I sure hope they don't keep licking it. Since trying to get into a position to lick mange might break an old person's hip or something .... AAAAAND I've come off-topic again.)

(Speaking of, and this is kinda out of nowhere ... BUT if I had a clothing line, I think I'd call it "Off Topic." And everyone'd be all, "Don't you mean 'Hot Topic?'" And I'd be all, "No." But, honestly, isn't a brilliant idea. I should market it.)

BUT, getting back to my ORIGINAL point (which, I will do, eventually), Kari is a wonderful friend. You should read her blog. It has VIDEOS of her daughter. Which is a wonderful thing.

And, hey, if you're her friend, she'll probably write something really nice about you. And, even better, it'll be all sincere. Since she's cool like that. And she'll take the time to work out her (very eloquent ... since she IS an English teacher) thoughts.

So, in short, worship this girl. She deserves it. (Seriously. I could [and SHOULD] write blogs about how great she is.
And I was excited to read this week's installment even before I knew it was about me.

So, yes, go to her blog. Read it. Love her.
As it is written, so shall it be! (<-- Yeah, not MY original words, but I sure wish they were. 'Cause that would be a kick-butt Llanna-ism. For sure.)

Something funny and wonderful

Maybe only Browncoats will get it, but THIS made me laugh out loud. And quite heartily, too.

And, really ... it IS an excellent movie idea.

(If you don't know what a Browncoat is ... Well, you're missing out. Watch Firefly and Serenity. If you love them very, very much ... Well, I'd consider you a bit of a browncoat. ^_^ And I'd adore you even more than I currently do at present.)

Just to brag ...

So, while my mom was up, I had to buy diapers.
With the sale and the use of a couple coupons, instead of paying $28 for 94 diapers, I got 120 diapers for $14.

Yeah, I'm da bomb.

Now, so you know I'm not all that into myself as being all that and a bag of chips, when one of my (thin) sisters-in-law saw me Saturday and remarked, "You're so skinny!!", all I really could think was, "Okay, is that in comparison to when I was all pregnanted? Or was I really, really fat recently? Since I really haven't lost THAT much weight."
And I promptly plunged myself into yet another new Hell.

But to make things better, I was looking at a couple of pictures that my mother-in-law took ... and da-yum!! (Yes, I do curse. I know it's bad. But I do it anyways, sometimes.) But, really! My legs (my calves, anyways, since that's what you can see) are looking HOTT!! (Yes, it NEEDS that second 't' in there. 'Cause those gams are lookin' good.)

And to balance that out, I still wish that I lost all that weight in my booty. And the back of my thighs. Especially in the butthigh area.

But, on the other hand, (there are other fingers. [Couldn't resist!!]) my arms are looking better.

So, yes. I'm still same ol' me. Trying to be optimistic ... and failing to be anything but my harshest critic. (Well, I think I might have had one harsher critic. But she doesn't count because she doesn't matter. Yes, I'm just that unChristlike. But, hey, at least I'm not beating myself up and questioning if I really do have, at best, the public speaking skills of a semi-mute second-grader. Anymore.)

So, um, yeah. That's most of what's happening.
When we're not trying to see if anyone's open to fix the van on a holiday.
(Answer: No, they're not. Tough beans. Michael will stay home for at least part of the day tomorrow and we'll find someplace when people are at work again.)

So, yes. That's how life is.
At least I got the best deal EVER on diapers. Woot for me!

Just stuff

As the kidlets grow, they just get more and more fun. Usually. If it weren't for the tantrums that start coming, I think that I'd love them nearly as much as they deserve all the time. (Sometimes, I just don't do quite as good of a job as others.)

They love to dance. Bucket can shake her groove thing with the best of them. And she's REALLY good now at "If you're happy and you know it." I didn't realize how good she was at it.

Bruise loves to dance, too. His dancing style is ... so different than Bucket's. HE does this almost Sumo-squat and then bounces and swings his arms around. It makes me laugh every time.

They're starting to talk more. Bruise, who's been less vocal so far, proves that he's really with it, even if he doesn't say all that much right now. Still, he's really pretty smart. Which is good.
I mean, I'll love both my kiddos even if they aren't gifted or anything.But I'm glad that they do seem to be pretty clever ... *preens* if I do say so myself.

In other news, I noticed Friday that the van (our primary vehicle ... Michael drives the small truck that I brought into the marriage) wasn't shifting well. Then later in the day it did fine.
Yesterday (Saturday), as we went to drive into the next town, the van pretty much crapped out a few miles from our house. Yeah. It won't shift into the lower gears ... and the gears it does shift into? Well, park and neutral work pretty well. Pushing the gas? It makes noise as if it's trying to please... but there's nothing really happening.

As my dad would say, "Great! Just Great!!!" So, yeah. (Melissa, it's probably a good thing we didn't plan to meet you and the family at the fair, huh?)
And I am really grateful that I did have Michael there, instead of it being just the kiddos and me.
But still, it sucks that it's happened at all. Especially when we still are paying it off.

*sigh*

I just have too much fun

... Or I'm just far too boring of a person.

Hard to tell.

So, what brought up this train of thought?

This:


Yes, you can spell your name with Flickr. And I found it to be rather very much fun. since, if you don't like the set of letters you get, just click on the ones you don't like in the top row and *POOF!* you get new fonts or however you want to refer to them ... pictures of letters? Um, yeah? Something like that?

So, yeah. That's what I did today. When I wasn't folding laundry, nursing, working on my website for being a cubmaster, or checking myriad blogs.
Remind me to give Michael a haircut tonight. When we're not watching movies or visiting with his brother's family.
Also remind me to finish the nine library books I have piled on/by the bed and to cook dinner.

k thx!

WARNING:

I had to post this because I'm an Ed major ... and I have teacher friends and family.

This was just too good not to post ... but there is some PG-rated language and one, um, rude hand gesture.

But this guy, Taylor Mali, is pretty amazing.



Word.

(Note: I nabbed this from Elizabeth Bird's Video Sunday blog feature at School Library Journal. Just thought I'd give her the credit she deserves.)

This would have made me snurk soda out my nose...

... if I had been drinking soda. Since I wasn't, I mostly just snickered into my fist and repeated, "This is the BEST movie EVER."


(Nabbed from Eric D Snider's hilarious blog. Yeah, I've mentioned that I'm such a fan girl for him. :P

Oh, and I've been sucked into this website/game thing, thanks to my friend Sheri. My avatar is really cute, though. But the severs seem to hate me ... stupid game servers. My username is LlannaLee (yeah, I know. Total shock. You'd never have ever guessed THAT one, huh? :P), so if you want to join or whatever, you can find me. If I'm online.

And, yeah. Traveling tomorrow. Back for a meeting. HERE. AT MY HOUSE. SUNDAY MORNING.
Wish me luck. ^_^ And that I'm not entertaining maybe 10 people in my pjs ... and that the floor is vacuumed. :D

He's growing up ...

So, we've been noticing that Bruise has been looking a little shaggy.


See Exhibit A, taken at the beginning of the month:

 

Seriously, check out the hair over his ears. It's long. (It goes to his earlobe.) Sometimes, it acts like it has a mind of its own and positively LEVITATES behind or over his ears. It won't stay down ... it just looks ... weird.
And I don't want my dear, little son to look WEIRD. He's my son! And he's gonna look HANDSOME! NOT WEIRD!
Because I love him and I think he looks handsome no matter what. Even when he's been throwing a tantrum and his face is covered in ... well, y'all get the idea.


So, we finally caved and gave him a haircut, since he was REALLY needing one. I was just going to use scissors and give him a trim around the ears, mostly ... since his baby-fine fluff was always hovering outwards ... However, Michael suggested the clippers, so we went that route. There was conversation involving "Which blade, I mean GUARD, should I put on it?" "Oh, a number three." "... Um, which one is a number three? The biggest one?" (The guards are labeled with measurements -- e.g., 3/8", 1/4", 3/4" -- NOT numbers, so my question is TOTALLY relevant and not stupid, okay?)
And I outfitted the clippers with the 3/8" guard and Michael did most of the cutting. I finished up, since Michael kept commenting on how fine Bruise's hair is. (So, finally, I asked, "Do you want me to finish it?" And he was all, "Okay, if you want to." So I did.) Bruise was bribed with animal crackers and Bucket was JEALOUS that she didn't get to sit in the high chair and have HER hair cut.

I did go back and do a little scissor-trim ... I cut his bangs a little close. Oops. But he seemed pretty happy when he got to look in the mirror on the bathroom door as I told him how handsome he looked.

What do you think?

Here's the front: Look no more fluffies behind/over his ears!

 

A nice profile shot ... with Bucket getting her time in the high chair (even though she's still upset that we didn't cut HER hair too. Poor girl.)

 

And here's all that we took off. It's sitting on a letter sized envelope, in case you needed reference.

 

I am going to miss the teeny little flippy-curls that Bruise had ... but the fluffy over the ears had to go.
And, to mask the close-cut bangs, I can always pull out some pomade and spike it a little.
He'll look all hardcore ... or, at least, um, metrosexual. Maybe.
But still handsome. Oh so handsome.

He looks a lot older without the Eddie Munster pointy-bang and no fluff. I feel like I should be more distraught ... but I'm really okay with it. It's just one of those things that have to happen.
(For Bucket's benefit, I did look for any split ends that I could trim for her ... I found nothin'. So her locks are still unsheared. So sad for her.)

Back to normal(er)

Well, since I wrote and vented, things are starting to move along.

If you really care that much about my scout pack, we have a website
. It's not the best thing ever or anything ... but I'm hoping that it will get better. And, hey, if y'all have any suggestions of things that I should add, you can let me know.

And I created a forum for my cub scout leaders. So far I have three people signed up. Woot for me! ... Even though I have to wonder what a geek I am that I had to create a forum. But I rather enjoy being a little bit of a geek. And, hey, if this can help me NOT have to be in meetings as often, so much the better!

Now I've gotten most of the laundry (FOUR LOADS) folded. Most of Michael's and my stuff's been put away ... I need to put away the kids' stuff. But the living room's picked up. I need to do dishes. I want to read a couple books before we take off to visit Michael's folks.

I don't know what to cook for dinner.
I like how, right now, THAT is my biggest concern.

I also like that I haven't yelled at the kids much at all today. Have I yelled at them at all? ... I can't remember. I like that. I like that a whole hell of a lot.

I also liked this post I came across via PopURLs. And, yes, I realize that I am not only an felinophile but an extreme geek for digging this.

And I liked hearing that the tax kicker checks will be in the mail in December. I like me some monies. I very much likes me some monies.

I'm not sure how I feel about how much time I spend on Gaia... But i have a relatively cute avatar ... so I guess that's okay. Maybe.

So, yeah. Things are looking a lot better. I'm not worried that I might need antidepressants or anything (Quit looking at me like that. I never said I wasn't a bit of a hypochondriac!).

So, yeah. Things are okay.

Venting ... lots of it ...

So, like I may have mentioned, my calling at church is Cubmaster. And I'm still floundering. And, even thought I've been trained (I did the Fast Start online and I've gone to Round Tables and all), I really don't feel like I have any idea really what I'm doing.

I'm a bit of a perfectionist, yes. The cubmaster we had in my old ward ... I'm not going to him because I don't feel he was the best one (I got really irritated with him a few times. And tried not to show it).

I hate going to meetings ... especially meetings that are planned when Michael is not around to help with the kiddos ... and I don't really care to have these meetings encroach on what little time I DO get with my husband. Yes, I am just that pissy.

I paid the bills today. Joy.
I got a shower.
I haven't worked out much. Not on Friday. Did a 2K walk with Michael and the kids for a church activity Saturday. Did nothing Sunday ...
I haven't been sleeping well.
I broke down talking to the bishopric member and spent the last hour of church in the car, alternately crying and calming down and reading then crying more then calming down so I wouldn't look too upset when I picked up Bruise and Bucket from Nursery.

Yesterday I saw a ginormous spider in our bedroom as I was getting dressed. I killed it. I deserve a frickin' medal, yes I do!

I haven't cried yet today ... but I still feel like it. I really don't like Scouting much (I used to have no opinion of it. Now I feel that it's fitting, considering how clueless I feel after all the training I've had, that the first initials of the Boy Scouts of America are "BS.")

Yes, I am just this snarky. I'm tired of not knowing what to do and not having anyone around to either show me or learn with me.
I'm tired of not sleeping well.
I'm tired of yelling at my children.
I'm tired of being tired and whiney and pitiful and ... okay, I'm crying again.

I feel obligated to be in this calling because they called me. I'm supposed to learn something. they're scrambling to fill all these callings. I think that Brother M is aware that I'm not the happiest (since I just about started sobbing in front of him yesterday in the church hallway. Gah.) ... Yes. I'm just not ... happy ... right now.

I should be happy. I have rather wonderful children (who at this point, may have taken off their diapers in their cribs ... but they're chatting to each other after a long nap which let me try and get some of this Scouting crap done), I have a wonderful husband (who puts up with me as my mental health number has gone through the roof this month), I have books (wonderful, miraculous books. Books that will take me away and let me escape), I have the internet ... I have my cats. I have my family.

Is it bad that I really don't like having a calling? I haven't enjoyed the callings I've had for the last six months. I liked working with L (the Webelos leader in our last ward). Before that, before we moved, Michael and I taught in Primary which was okay ... but I really wanted to be able to attend Relief Society. I don't really like teaching in Relief Society ... but I think I'd like it better than this. (No meetings, really. Just one responsibility one Sunday a month ... It sounds really tempting. But that's not the calling I was extended. And I'm trying not to be bitter about it. Trying.)

Gah. Well, I'll let you know if my head explodes anytime soon. Or if a miracle occurs and I suddenly feel comfortable and confident in this calling.

I'd count on the former happening first. I've scheduled it for the last Friday of the month. We'll see how right I am.

As I was reading my (looooong) list of daily blogs, I came across this cute little meme. So I'm sharing. Feel all special, okay??

Eight Things About My Marriage
1. Where did you meet your husband?
Short answer: Through church.

Slightly longer answer: Through my church friends. Michael was well-known in the U-wards ... mostly since he was a long-timer (he attended for a little before his mission, then came back and attended again). We knew of each other ... but until a group-date-that-wasn't-really (long story. I'll tell it soon. I really will), I never really thought of him as future-husband material.

2. What was the first thing you said to him?
Um ... I think it was, "Terra was right. You really DO have long eyelashes!"
This was before that group date ... And I said it kinda out of the blue. And then I felt guilty for making him blush. And, yet, after all that ... he still proposed. Go fig.

3. Where was your first date? Kiss?
Our first date was to the dollar theater (which has since been bulldozed into a parking lot) and then to Taco Bell. Where I impressed him by ordering Nachos (He was used to girls that didn't eat, I guess. Whereas, I was hungry ... and did eat. But not the whole thing, since we were too busy talking).
Our first kiss was at of one of our friend's carport, as he was helping me get all my stuff to go back to my dorm. (I smile like a goon when I think of it.)

4. Did you have a long or a short courtship?
I think it was just right. At times it felt long (when we were waiting for our wedding date to come about), but from first date to wedding date was 11 months. We dated for six months, he proposed the day after our six-month dating anniversary ... we got married 5 months after that.

5. Where did you get engaged?
Next to the stove in my mom's kitchen. I was covered in grime and general nastiness from my part-time job at the local plywood mill. And Michael wouldn't let me go get a shower. And then there was a ring. And then I was all like *inner monologue* "A ring. It's a diamond ring. Yeah, diamonds are my birthstone, but people don't just go offerin' diamond rings .... Oh-h-h-h ..." And I said *out loud* "Really??"

6. Where did you get married?
The Portland temple. and It was great. It would have only been better if my mom had been able to come up the night before, if I wasn't hacking up a lung (or concentrating REALLY HARD on not coughing up said lung), and if I had eaten breakfast (so I didn't almost pass out a couple times during pictures. *nervous laugh*).

7. How did the reception go?
Reception? Try receptionS. We had two. One in the college town we were both living in (and continued to live in until December) and one in my hometown. They were both really nice. Our families planned them for us (so Michael and I could concentrate on our college classes and making googly eyes at each other). If I had to do it again, I wouldn't have smooshed the cake in his face, no matter how much Jonnie-Bean goaded me on. And then, at the second reception, I wouldn't have had cake in my eye (Retribution sucks).

8. How was the honeymoon? Very nice. It could never have been too long ... we went to the Oregon Coast. Bandon. And we had time to go to a petting zoo, walk on the beach, relax in our hotel room (with hot tub. That's the way to go), window shop, try all the samples in Cranberry Sweets ... And then we drove home and opened lots of presents and gave Ginger-cat lots and lots of pettings, since she might have been lonely ... or maybe she noticed that I wasn't there so she could sleep on my head or something.

Yeah, I'll be filling in some of the gaps soon. Don't worry. I'll try not to keep y'all hanging for long. ^_^

Our weekend

As I promised, I am blogging about our weekend: the trip down, the visiting of mi familia, and the trip back.

I debated getting up at the butt-crack of dawn and (wisely) decided against it. I'm much more patient when I have slept a good 12 hours. Ha ha ha, I joke. I probably got a good seven hours. And that would have to do. Since I went to bed all snarly that the Scouting meeting I was at lasted faaaaaar too long and I really have no friggin' clue what I'm doing as cubmaster ... but that is neither here nor there.

SO, I slept in a little, we got the car packed, I got myself showered, dressed, and made-up; we finished packing the car around getting the children up and nursed, we drove to Michael's work, hung out and visited, the kiddos did laps around the office, until Michael needed to go on site to see how well his stormwater design was working (answer: pretty darn well for a first project. There's one drain that needs a little tweaking, but still! Not too shabby!)and the kidlets and I stayed in the car where I read and tried by my sheer force of optimism that they would TAKE. A. NAP. FOR. THE. LOVE. OF. BOB.
Which they didn't deign to try. So I changed diapers (which, I must say, is a feat of some daring ... having squirmy toddlers being changed on one's stretched out legs in the front seat of a van. But I'm all daring and a risk-taker [read: lazy] like that).
And then Michael came back and we drove back to his office and the kiddos and I stayed out in the van while he worked. And they wouldn't sleep while they could see me. So I climbed through the middle seat (and caught my knee on Bucket's carseat, giving me a gnarly-looking bruise on the side of my knee) to the backseat where I made myself comfortable amid the piles of pillows and read until I fell asleep ... and when I came to (because my back was calling me rather terrible names), remarkably my children had actually. fallen. asleep!
And I really had to pee. So I woke them up just before Michael got off of work (which, it being a Friday, was noon) and carried them into the office since I was too lazy to put their shoes back on. And then Michael had a meeting, so the kiddos and I hung out in his cubicle ... they played with his office supplies while I refused to let them draw over Michael's draftings ... and I played a couple hands of Free Cell on his computer.
Yes, I DO make it look this easy. NOT.

But what was very nice was the office manager remarked that I had lost weight. And that it was NOT the four pounds that my scale says. Yeah, you see why I like this lady. ^_^

Then we drove down to my Nana's and ate lunch and visited for a couple hours. The kiddos got cranky, so we drove down to my mom's to change for the wedding (one of my friends I met in high school got married to one of the sons of my preschool teacher. No, I didn't bring them together ... I didn't even know the groom. Just his mom.), and we ate dinner. We had hoped that the munchkin brigade might take a nap ... no such luck.

The wedding was nice. Michael didn't get to really see any of it, since he was chasing after the kidlets. But my high-school world history teacher was the minister/officiator for the wedding. And he's really great. It was wonderful to see him and his wife (who was my sixth-grade reading teacher) and my choir teacher and the mom of one of my friends from junior high ... It would have been nicer only if the kidlets weren't all hyper and if we had been able to stay longer. Oh well.

Saturday, we got up, nursed the munchkins, ate breakfast, got ready and drove down to my uncle's (where my dad and his girlfriend are staying while their house is being worked on). It was a nice drive, even though it's a little surreal driving past my first boyfriend's parent's house. And it strikes me how much time I spent there when I was sixteen. Crazy.

We had a very nice visit and I have a ginormous list of things to look up online for my uncle (who can't do it himself -- [1] no computer/internet and [2]he's got type-two Usher's syndrome. Hard to go online when you can't see). So I think I've got plenty to keep me busy. ^_^

Then we drove back to my mom's, put the kiddos to nap (where they woke up and pretty much trashed the guest room. *insert big, martyr-esque sigh here* and we got the van packed up and took off to a family picnic to see Mom's side of the family. Good food, good fun ... and then we had to drive back home.

The kiddos were worn-out enough that they actually did sleep most of the way home. We saw another of my high-school friends pumping gas when we filled up the van. I haven't seen her online lately since her computer broke. Poor girl! We drove and drove and about 15 miles before our exit, Bucket woke up .... SCREAMING. And woke up Bruise ... and they were SO, SO, SO upset that I ended up unbuckling myself and, crouching in the space between the front and middle rows of seats, nursing them one-by-one. We were ALMOST home and they really, really, REALLY wanted out. So it was the best I could do.

And we got home, put the kids in a bath, called my mom to let her know we made it safely home, turned on the computer, checked email, and went to bed.

Phew! And then we woke up to go to church (where I substituted in Nursery after wanting to devour my children, a la hamster, during Sacrament meeting ... which was FULL of timeouts. Ugh!) and came home and put the kiddos to nap. And then got the kiddos up and had dinner with the previously-blogged broccoli incident, and put the kiddos to bed. And then we read Firefly quotes until our eyes nearly fell from their sockets. And then we went to bed. And now I need to stop typing so I can work out, clean house, make phone calls, get a shower, read library books (I'm very, very much enjoying Skulduggery Pleasant. It's very hilarious!), and fix something for dinner.

Wish me luck. ^_^

Something funny/cute/cheeky

Michael and I made dinner.

He cooked up some noodles with cheese sauce. I cooked some chicken and frozen broccoli. We dished up some of everything for the kidlets.

Bruise and Bucket proceeded to wolf down the chicken and the pasta. The broccoli went uneaten. So I speared some on my fork and attempted to entice the children to eat theirs. Bucket took a bite ... spit it out. Bruise took the teeniest of bites.

So I said, "Well, if you're not going to eat it, Mommy WILL," as I took a piece of Bruise's broccoli.

So he picked up two handfuls of what was left on his plate and offered it to me.

Smart boy. He's TOO smart sometimes.

And Bucket followed suit.

And they watched me eat each and every piece of delicious broccoli with freshly-cracked black pepper, sprinkled with sea salt.

And Michael and I tried not to smile over our children's cleverness.
Since we don't want to encourage them to be TOO smart. Cheeky little devils.

Then, as Bucket was goofing off, standing on her booster seat at the table, she slipped and beaned her head on the dining room table. Oops. That's going to be a bad bruise. *sigh*

I don't think I'm going to have to worry that my children are TOO clever, after all. :P Thank goodness. I wouldn't want anyone to fear the competition. Ha ha ha.

Don't worry about Bucket, she's fine now. A little cuddle, some infant Tylenol ... and a forced administration of an ice pack ... She's fine now.

Yet another celebrity crush ...

As I've said before, my "celebrity crushes" are more along the lines of "Oh-this-person-is-SO-coot/neat/amazing!!!!!1!!-and-I-really-really-like-them!!!"

But, yeah, I've found another one:



Oh, if only his movies weren't rated-R, then I'd watch them soooooo much!
(Truth be told, the first time I saw the previews for "The Science of Sleep," I said to Michael, "Oh, I want to see that!" Then I saw that it was rated "R" ... and I think I said "damn." Because that made me very, very, VERY unhappy.)

OH, something else that made me unhappy -- The videos on YouTube for So You Think You Can Dance? are not online anymore. Stupid music rights. Now I cannot watch Hok. Or any of Sabra's past performances. And that makes me sad, too. Really sad.
And then I think that I'm a little pitiful for being sad about a SHOW. Even worse, a REALITY TV show.

I'm now ashamed. I need to soak my head or something. Maybe read something deep. Like Proust or something. (Isn't Proust the one that wrote about the tea-soaked Madeline cookie? I'm too lazy to look it up. Ugh.)

This makes me SAD...

President Faust passed away. (The title of this post is a link, if you want to read about it. Your choice.)

For you non-LDS-ers out there, President Faust isn't our prophet. That'd be President Hinckley. But he serves ... I mean served ... with President Hinckley.

Still, I kind of always expected that I'd always be hearing him at General Conference (the twice-annual broadcast that our church does. Lots of people give talks ... and although I used to think it was really kind of boring, I do enjoy it more and more now. Well, when I can actually listen, since the munchkin brigade aren't exactly the most conducive to reverence. At present, anyways). I kinda assumed that President Hinckley would pass on before any of the other apostles. (Even though we've had a few apostles pass away during the last few years. I still miss Neal A. Maxwell).

So, when we got home from visiting family last night (which is [and will be] another post in and of itself), I was checking my email before heading to bed. And ... there it was. A whole email message sent through one of the LDS lists that I'm subscribed to ... saying that James E. Faust passed away. And I'm all, "What the chicken?!?"
Yeah, to say nothing else, it was rather unexpected.

I mean, we all knew that he was getting older. He delivered his talk at April's General Conference sitting down ... which, I'll admit had me rather worried. But I still didn't expect it quite so soon. *sigh*

So, yeah. I'm a bit bummed out. And it just feels so surreal. Like when you wake up from a bad, bad dream that feels so REAL ... and you have to sit there, panting in bed, trying to work out if it really happened ... and, when it's a dream, you come across some small detail that definitely IS NOT true in real life ... but there's not that detail here. In fact, there's proof that it has. And that makes me sad.
I hope that President Faust's family is doing okay. I mean, yes, we have the gospel and we know that death is not the end of a person or of a relationship or of love. And that is, indeed, quite a comfort. But, sometimes, it's still really sad that we don't have that person still here with us ... only a phone call or an email or a visit away. And that hurts.

Thank goodness we have the opportunity to have an eternal perspective on this. We WILL see our dear ones, friends and family, again. And I'm so glad for that. It would be a cruel God to order us to create families, and the deep affections therein, just to rip them away at our deaths. I'm very glad to know that we do have a loving Heavenly Father. Because he does love us. Each one of us. Very much. Better than anyone else ... well, except maybe Jesus. Because he did make the greatest sacrifice, which enables us to live again, to repent, to have our families last past death ... And that is good. Very good. And an extreme comfort to know.

The logic abounds in our house. Truly. (Okay, not-so-truly at all.)

Me: Honey! Daniel Biss is running for Illinois State Representative!

Michael: [looking up from me intterupting (again) him reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix] Um. That's nice.

Me: If we had money, we could donate for his campaign!

Michael: I don't even know what his platform is.

Me: What does it matter?!? He's the RESIDENT MATHEMATICIAN for Nerdfighters!! What else IS there???

--------------------------------------------------------------

I read a good book the other day. Be warned, there's profanity. But it's a GREAT book.
The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak. It's about a girl in a town in Germany during the Holocaust and it's really, really good and I really, really liked it. And I'm so glad that I was reading In My Pants and caught that John Green recommended it. Because it is good.

Also, today ... when they weren't screaming or messing with my computer or unfolding the clothes that I. HAD. JUST. FOLDED., Bruise and Bucket were cute. Like when Bruise was walking in the kitchen, sucking on a pacifier ... and his feet wedged into a pair of stacking rings (the yellow and green ones, to be precise). There he was, clopping around, happy as a clam.
Bucket demanded books and more books today. Right now she's on a kick of the touch-and-feel-type books.

I still really have no idea what I'm doing as cubmaster. I've emailed the bishopric counselor over me to ask some questions. I also left a message with the Primary president ... we'll see when I hear back from anyone. Still, I have been able to schedule a couple visiting teaching appointments. And I know when the round table meeting is (so I can go to that, as is my duty as a cubmaster.)

I made crockpot chili yesterday. It took forever to cook, since I used dried beans that I had soaked, instead of the canned beans. It tastes good, though. I made myself a couple of chili cheese burritos this afternoon. They were pretty good.

Well, I'm going to close up. Mostly since I haven't said anything particularly brilliant ... and it's not looking like that's going to change anytime soon. Sorry!

Can't hurt to try ...

So, as I'm going through my daily dose of blogs (and it's a rather large dose. Yes, I am an addict.), I come across a contest.

See this:
Over at Ashwin’s blog, you will find one crazy blog owner!! You can win $2500!! To enter just copy this text and paste it in your blog!! But hurry, this competition will not last long! So get posting!

Well ... truly, 2500 dollars would not be unwelcome.
And if nothing else, Ashwin'll be getting some linky-love going on.

And if I don't win? Well, I suppose that I could erase this post. We'll figure that out August 20th, I suppose.

Also, if you're jonesing for a chance to win a 37" flat-panel LCD HDTV, go to 5 minutes for mom and enter that contest.

'Cause you know what? Free is definitely my favorite price. And I do like me some monies. Like that song by the Flying Lizards. ^_^

Overheard in our home

There are many conversations that occur in my home that I have a hard time thinking would occur in other homes (or would be uttered by other people).

Here are examples:

Scene: Michael and I are talking in bed before we fall asleep. The topic is my new goal of working out. (Which is ironic, seeing as how I'm munching some pilfered-from-the-kids'-stash M&Ms)... I am musing aloud to Michael that I don't know the correct form to use when doing crunches (which has been taken care of via workout videos at FitSugar.)

Me: So when you do crunches ...
Michael: *interrupts with a snort*
Me: *as if he hadn't said anything* ... When you HYPOTHETICALLY do crunches ...

I mean, do you know anyone else who has conversations like this?
Is it just that I bring out the wacky in people?

Probably not, since one of my friends, as she was about to hang up as she was driving, suddenly blurted triumphantly out to me, amidst giggles, "My skirt's made from CURTAINS!!"
To which I drawled, "Scarlett, you gow luv-li-ah by tha daee!"

Or the fact that Michael calls me out, pretty darn often, when he's changing diapers and Bucket starts to sing her version of the "song" we have for getting dressed or undressed. (It's a kind of mishmash of "The Stripper," "Bad to the Bone," and "The Bunny Hop." And it keeps my kidlets pretty happy as we're changing a diaper or putting on a sleeper or PANTS or something. And, so, Bucket will join in with some well-timed "duh-DUH"s. She's got decent rhythm.

OR Michael will call me out when, as he's closing up the diapers, the kiddos will call out "bye-bye" as they wave toward their crotches. ... With Bruise being HYPER-AWARE of his ... boy parts ... and PLAYING with it just about ALL THE TIME, we've (meaning: the kids and I) made a habit of saying "Bye-bye Mr. P3n1s. We'll see you later/We'll see you at bathtime!" or "Bye-Bye V@gin@! We'll see you at bathtime!" ... I keep hoping that if they're aware that their little-person bits aren't going to disappear without giving a leave of absence, that MAYBE I won't have little children who HAVE to HAVE their hands in his their diapers ALL THE TIME.

TANGENT: Today, as I went to get the kiddos from Nursery, Bruise was trying to escape as soon as he saw me. I met him about two steps out of the door, as Sister D was telling him to come back. He immediately turned to her and said, "Bye-bye!!" and raised his arms so i would pick him up. He obviously had a good day ... and still was glad to see me. As soon as Bucket saw him get picked up she, staying inside the door until she was told (by me) that it's okay to come to me, started crying. Not because she didn't want to go.
Since she whimpered and cried until we got to Michael, I think that she was (1) tired -- should I phrase it as TIRED!!!1! -- and (2) missing her Daddy.

Oh ... and she sometimes snorts when she gets to laughing too much. Which makes me laugh hysterically in return. Good times.

And Bruise hopped up while I was dressing him for a nap today ... and I was changing him on the daybed in their room ... and landed his eye on the metal frame. Ouch. He's going to have a shiner tomorrow. I'll see if i can get a picture of this latest battle wound. Poor guy.

But the kiddos were very well-behaved at J&A's wedding shower Friday night. The drive home wasn't the most pleasant, since it was about 2.5 hours after their bedtime ... but we're working on catching up on their sleep.

Oh, and woot for me: Even though I haven't been using the treadmill every day, I have been exercising each day this week. I've exercised over 120 minutes this week. Go me! (Maybe it'll make a dent, even with all the snacking and ice cream I've had this week. :S)

Stick a fork in us -- for we are done!

Yes, NOW we can discuss all things Potter. Michael and I finished Deathly Hallows tonight.

Overall, I am satisfied with the book. I'm sad that the series is over ... but it was good. There were some surprises ... There were some things that Michael and I were able to deduce (and then give each other the squinty-"I'm-SO-right!!"-eye).

Times I cried: Three.

[SPOILERS!!!!!! If you want to be all surprised, DO NOT read any further until you've finished your copy. Or the copy you've checked out from the local library. Or that you've borrowed from your bestest buddy.]

I was NOT prepared for the first death.
Michael thought it was weird that I cried over the owl and not the elf. (I was just crying on the INSIDE for our favorite house-elf. Who we're SO glad does not sound like Jar Jar Binks. Praises be!)
Moody's death didn't really phase us. He's a warrior. He went down fighting.
It pissed me off when Fred died. I didn't cry. But I felt like punching Rowling about a bit. You DO NOT separate the twins. That's just inhumane.
I cried over Lupin and Tonks. I had predicted the marriage troubles ... I just wasn't sure in advance why they'd come along.
I cried when Harry was in the forest. Harder than I cried for Hedwig.
I'm SO glad that I was right about Snape. SO glad.
I'm sad that we don't know Ginny's patronus.
I'm sad that I don't know much about Luna as an adult. Who did she end up with? How's business going with the Quibbler? Is she ever pestered by Nargles?!? I MUST KNOW!!!!
And I had a suspicion (that I was correct in supposing) about Neville's future.

[SPOILERS OVER. Not that, if you haven't read the book, you should still be here. Unless, *sigh* you don't like surprises ... and that's why I've tried to make my spoilers a little vague. If you really, really want me to discuss the book, let me know. ^_^]

Now to email my Cynthia, so she has someone to discuss it with. Since most of her friends have to wait (poor dears!) for the French translation.

Back In the Saddle On the Treadmill

[Contains NO Spoilers. Reading is safe. There are allusions to the previous books, but I've tried to make it safe and welcoming to those who haven't been Harry Potter-mad.]

Only halfway through Deathly Hallows (and still hoping against hope that [1]Snape is good at the end and [2] that the Deathly Hallows does turn out to be a band).

This weekend wasn't the most ... conducive for my attempt at getting back into shape. The last time I ran (before today) was Thursday.

So I ran .8 miles ... then weighed myself (since I'm trying to track part of my progress with facing that evil wench the hard facts of the scale once a week (Like Garfield, I now am developing a bit of a dislike for Mondays).

The good news: my butt and thighs are bouncing less as I use the treadmill.
The bad, bad, terrible, horrible, no-good news: I gained THREE pounds.

BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH.

In other news, Bucket's talking more. She can identify nearly all her body parts (as in, I ask "Where's your ___?" and she'll point to it). The one I like best is this exchange:

Me: Where's your butt?
Bucket: *slaps butt with the cheekiness of the captain of a cheerleading squad*
Me: *erupts into delighted giggling* Good job!

(Yes, I am that bad. It's part of my rebellion. If you don't know this rebellion, email me. I'll tell you. It's a really stupid rebellion ... but it's what I do. ^_^)

Bruise is still the strong silent type. If he happens to get up before Bucket and is hanging with me, just the two (or three, if Michael's here) of us, he'll be a little more loquacious. His pronunciation still needs a little more effort ... but I'm not too worried. Boys (especially in a set of multiples) usually don't pick up all the verbal skills as quickly as the female of the species. Besides, Bucket tries her best to talk for him nearly all the time. And to discipline him when he's gotten himself in trouble ... which leads me to another overhead tidbit in this house:

Me: *sternly* [Bucket], Mommy is the one who disciplines [Bruise]. You are not the mommy. Mommy is the mommy. And I have the stretch marks to prove it.

Yeah, there's parenting at it's finest. Look and learn, y'all. Look and learn. *rolls eyes*

So what have I been doing lately? Besides neglecting my fitness goal this weekend? Let's see...
My mom came up and we had a fine time.
Michael and I saw "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" -- I think it's the best movie thus far. Really. Even though I didn't like the book as much as Goblet of Fire ... probably because I was sobbing too hard to finish reading it aloud for the last quarter of it. But I was prepared. And i didn't cry. You SHOULD be so proud.
My stepdad got sick, so Mom headed home a few hours earlier than we expected. (don't worry, he's okay now. It's all cool. My mom takes really good care of him.)
We received our copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, took our shower and started reading as soon as we got dressed. (We've made a tradition just about the time that Goblet of Fire came out to read the Harry Potter books aloud together. Before HP&GOF came out, we were able to speed through the first three books. We read GOF and waited and waited and waited (and waited) for the fifth book. We devoured that together (as soon as Michael got home from work in the after noons, we'd read and read aloud for a few hours). Then came the waiting for book six - The Half-Blood Prince - and then the requisite rabid reading of that (Trickier, since we had to time it around nursing infants). Now, we have to work the reading between naptimes and bedtimes so that we'll have very few distractions. Wish us luck ... since Michael works long hours, it adds another obstacle.
With any luck (since we also have to watch SYTYCD), we'll wrap up the reading by this weekend. Hopefully.
We went to the birthday party of one of our nieces.
Had a family reunion (my side of the family). I got to see one of my cousins, which was excellent. Bruise and Bucket had a good time with her. ^_^ It was great to see the family. I never get to see them much anymore. *sigh* And the food's always good at the reunion. I need to make one of those Jell-O fruit and cream salads ... Or not, looking at the fact that I GAINED. THREE. POUNDS!!!! Ugh!

(Can I just tell myself that it's water weight? Or that it's muscle? Or that the scale is a perturbed little bint?)

So, as Michael and I are reading ... I've gotten very self-conscious that I read for comprehension and not content (teacher-friends will get what I mean. For those of you not in education ... or needing a refresher, here's what I mean: I won't always read aloud exactly word-for-word. But I usually DO, as I'm reading quickly, choose words that are equivalent and make sense in the sentence. Like I see "everyone" and say "everybody" ... Sometimes my brain doesn't pick the right type of word, though ... and Michael will the catch me [usually while we're driving and he can't see the word I've botched] and that's usually when I notice it) ... And so, now, I'm a lot more insecure about reading out loud.
Well, that and Michael's talked about my "Hagrid-voice" being like a pirate's ... and now, I'm nervous enough about it that Michael's sad that I don't do the Hagrid-voice. (I can't do it ... I've forgotten how. Really!)

BUT, as I was going to say in the first place (then why didn't I?), I got to the point where I was making too many mistakes as I read aloud ... that and the spells in their quasi-Latin are HARD for me to pronounce. And I wasn't very good as reading the German very well. Oops. So I made Michael read while I took a breather.

Michael agrees that it's a very hard book to read aloud. And told me that I've done a remarkable job.

I think I'll keep him. :P
Since he's catered to my vanity and pets my hair and all. ^_^

Still, if you try to give me any spoilers, that offer of kicking you in the head still stands.
Just so you're informed.

The Controversial Friend

So, my friend Kari emails me to check up on me ... I had commented on her blog and (unbeknownst to me) someone STRONGLY disagreed with my comment ... and Kari had to erase quite a bit of comments, since she's cool like that.

She was all worried that I was hurt and licking my wounds in the corner and scared to comment (Isn't she sweet??) ... In reality, once I comment on a blog, I usually don't review that blog. Call it my blogger-tunnel-vision ... AND, also, I was catching up on other blogs archives and (thusly) not catching up on my regular blogs to read (or posting on this one).

But, yeah, I sparked controversy ... well, me and the gal who disagreed and posted comments expressing her opinion ... and the other girl who defended me (C, if you're reading, thanks! That was very sweet of you! I'm blushing! ... I have no real idea exactly what you posted, but I appreciate you coming to my defense.)

So now I owe Kari some cookies (and C, if you want them, I can make you cookies too. ^_^)

THEN, when Mom and I took Bucket and Bruise to the library for storytime, one of the shelvers I worked with (the one who trained me when I got hired a couple years back as a substitute shelver) told me that I had a letter to the editor in the paper.
And that my stance on paid family leave was very well-written and clever.
And I had to tell her that it was a stock letter that was suggested by that Democracy In Action website that sends out information (like STOCK letters) for people to email or fax to their State representatives or senators. (I'm on the Moms Rising email list.)
And, obviously, one of the papers in our area printed my letter.

Which kinda freaks me out, since I kinda like to fly under the radar ... but kinda makes me happy, since I've managed to help get the word out about paid family leave and how it is a viable possibility ... and kinda makes me laugh, since I'm not a really political-type person.

So, here's what makes me even more controversial:

- I firmly believe in voting. And that if you don't vote, you don't get to gripe about the government.

- I'm not an extremely political person ... I like Mitt Romney's stance on SSM and abortion (two EXTREMELY important matters for me on a moral ground --- even though I like many people who deal with same-sex attraction ... and I'm so conflicted about it. Since I cannot condone it on a moral and religious ground ... but I love them dearly as people. And I just don't like abortion at all. There are only a very few instances where I would condone it ... and even for those, I would ask the person/family considering it to think very hard within themselves. I do think of as akin to murder, but I wouldn't think any less of any person who did it after thinking very hard about it. I think it abominable if used as a form of birth control. It's just adding irresponsibility to irresponsibility. And that is my opinion. Take it as you will.)
BUT, I also like Obama's stance on responsibility and innovation in the areas of conserving our natural resources. And, yes, this is mostly due to the buzz by the Green brothers' site.
And I don't like Hilary Clinton. I wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw her. Nor as far as I can spit (not that I'd ever do THAT, I'm a lady.) I think it's nice that a woman is running ... but I wouldn't vote for her. Ever.

Hmmm ... Maybe I am a little political after all.
I believe that we should vote for someone who will use his or her office (and the power that it encompasses) responsibly. And, yes, I do think that people (politicians AND celebrities) should hold themselves to a higher code of responsibility, especially when they are in the public eye.

I support breastfeeding in public as a baby's right, not just a mother's right. (It's a mother's right to decide how she feels it best to give her child nutrition. It's a baby's right to eat in public if he or she is hungry. Infants and toddlers cannot fight their own battles for themselves. It's up to us, as adults, to protect their rights and safety.)

I feel that parents have the right to make decisions for their families, GUIDED BY (not ordered by) laws. And, if it's a requirement for children to be in car seats for X amount of years AND have height and weight requirements that must be filled, then car seat manufacturers should be held accountable for ensuring fully-tested (not just up to MAYBE 35 mph, but to speeds of at least 75 mph) and AFFORDABLE (to all families) carseats.
[Oh yes, I'd love to have those Britax car seats for Bruise and Bucket ... but at around $300 each ... we're not able to afford those. We were barely able to scrape the money for the Graco seats (which we like a LOT, too). Still, it's insane.

INTERUPTION: I NOW HAVE HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS!!!!!!!
I may not be clogging (well, that either) blogging for the next few days.

(Also, if you send me spoilers, I will have to hunt you down and kick you upside the head. I'm just sayin'.)

Okay, I have to get dressed and start reading. Since the kiddos are napping.

Also, the movie for book 5 was most excellent. My favorite of the HP books-into-movies thus far. I highly recommend it. Also, the preview for Get Smart was HI-larious! I asked Michael if I could have that movie's children, I loved it so much.
And the preview for Enchanted made MICHAEL and me want to see it. (I'd already heard good things regarding it on the blogosphere, now I am SO excited for it!)

So, yeah. I don't mean to be all controversial. I guess I just am. And I'm excited that our book arrived today. I was thinking it might take until Thursday, since we got the free shipping ... but, lo and behold!!!!

I took another quiz. Are we surprised by the results?


Which HP Kid Are You?

Not one bit. :P

And, I finally wrote my bishop about the I'm-sorta-in-a-calling-but-not-since-it's-in-the-other-ward ...
And I'm not in that calling anymore. At least for now.
Phew!

I should be cleaning the house (read: mostly folding loads of laundry), but (as you can tell) I'm not.

I am trying to get through my massive stack of library books. I'm doing well. Finished three in the last three days. (Note to self: I really suck at keeping my "books I've read lately" widget updated. Oh well.)

The kids are supposed to be napping, but Bucket's screaming for some reason. I should go in (and, I'm guessing, change her diaper) so she can sleep. And I can get stuff done.

Oh, and I did my mile today. I'm down a pound. (Yeah, kinda daunting that I've jogged/walked nearly six miles last week and ALL I've lost is ONE pound. Sigh.) But that just leaves me 30 pounds to go until I reach my goal.

Oh, and I've been doing some crunches. Maybe I can get rid of my mummy-tummy *rolls eyes* We'll see.

(And the whole plan of getting to my weight-loss goal by Christmas ... well, that's dependent upon me losing TWO pounds per week. So ... maybe by my birthday. *deep, irritated sigh*)

You know you're a geek when ...

Yes, I do not deny my geekdom.

Especially when I have a dream that resembles nothing so much as a Firefly fanfic.

In which Mal is robbing a gas station. On earth.
And Kaylee's trying to keep him from choosing one that will get him put in prison ... Kinda like a version of Bonnie and Clyde, but not.
ANNNNNNNND THEN, somehow they end up in a concrete basement with the threat of imminent death (isn't that how it always goes?) and they realize their hidden love for each other ... and make out like teenagers at curfew -- If those teenagers happened to be in a reenactment of Romeo and Juliet.

I mean, it was a little tender and all.

What?

You mean that you don't have freaky-butt dreams involving television series or places that you have and have not been? And a lot of gas stations?

Oh.

Well ...

Um ...

Yeah.

Back on the wagon treadmill

Worship me, y'all!!

After taking a day off (due to summertime-induced laziness), I got back on the treadmill. At first I was all, "Maybe I'll do a half-mile ... I didn't run yesterday. And the day before that, I only did .85 miles ... A half-mile would be good. Right?"

WRONG!!! A half-mile would excuse my laziness and, perhaps, let me off the hook of having a GOAL (that goal being a loss of squishy-bum-osity and jiggly-thigh-ness). And, for my vain nature, it's a rather important goal. (Aside: especially seeing as how my breakfast this morning was two packages of fruit snacks ... and a couple slices of nectarine. Gotta work on that being the OTHER way around...)

So, yeah. I did my mile. Drank a little water. Got a shower. I feel all lady-ish again, seeing as how I took the time to shave my legs (Note: Normally, I'm a COMPULSIVE leg-shaver ... this week's been, um, not-so-normal. But I'm back to normal. Phew! Since I was being driven crazy by the, um, unnatural tactile-icity of my legs the last two days.)

TANGENT: I'm so glad that Hok didn't go home from SYTYCD. I heart Hok. But there are a LOT of really good dancers this season. Pasha's really cool. I hope Lacey continues to do well, since she is the lone Latter-Day Saint this season (But Sabra's from Utah, so it's possible ...). Last season there were, like, THREE FOUR (Benji, Heidi, Jaymz, and that girl that went to prom with him ... Um ...Allison. I'm pretty sure that's the one.)!!

Okay, could I use any MORE ellipses or parenthetical remarks?? This is getting crazy.