2008 is on it's Way...

It's about a half an hour until midnight and I'm ringing in the New Year with my husband and our dog. I have a vision in my mind of just my husband and me, snuggling up to keep warm in our apartment (we haven't yet turned on the heat..) but I imagine that Penny will squeeze in between and lick Jon's face to death. Easy to imagine, because that's usually what happens. Once I'm done with this post I'll eat some homemade candy (thanks, Kelsey) and get the Martinelli's ready for the big moment.

We got back last night from Christmas in Salt Lake, which was crazy fun. My sisters and parents all conglomerated there for about 10 days. It was a total blast. Among the funny stupid things that happened, my sister Corinne sang the wrong words to Little Drummer Boy ("Come they told me, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum...do you hear what I hear?") and my own mother called me Jerry. ("Are you going to eat those raspberries, Jerry?"). Jon got me an ipod nano that I cannot wait to get started with. My whole family met Penny for the first time. It went pretty well, as you can see from the following video...



My mom's only rule is that if/when they get any grandbabies, The General is banned from using his Dog Voice with the kids. We all get a kick out of it, though. Corinne and my dad have both claimed Penny in the event that we die. My other sister Annie hasn't been convinced yet, though. She thinks all dogs are gross, even though her husband Steve had a perfect dog named Remy as a kid. Remy didn't even poo or pee or anything, and he never ever threw up or had bad breath. And he gave himself regular baths. Penny's pretty close, but she can't quite compare to a dog that paid his own room and board.

Anyway, Christmas was fun, and now we're just twenty minutes away from ... Happy New Year!!!!

Je vais aller à Paris!

So it’s official – Jon is going to Paris in April for work and I’m coming with him! Hooray! I know it’s cliché but I’ve honestly waited my entire life to go. When I was in my fourth year of French in school, my parents began planning a trip there and I almost disowned them when they told me I was not invited. Kind of like when they went to Disneyworld (not land, mind you…WORLD) the beginning of my junior and left me behind. I’m pretty sure that’s not even allowed, leaving your kid out of your Disney plans. Anyway, Paris has been my number one place to travel for as long as I can remember, with Morocco being a very close second. Somehow I don’t see any work-related trips to Morocco in Jon’s near future, though. Anyway, so we’re going to Paris in the beginning of April.

Speaking of traveling, though, I’ve been packing this entire week for our trip to Utah. I’m so unbelievably excited to see everyone and eat at Café Rio. When I go on trips I usually just bring everything I own and choose outfits when I get to my destination, but this time we’ve got limited space (the Jeep is out of commission so we’re renting a sedan, plus we’ve got Penny with us this time – our first trip with our new dog! No one in my family has met her yet!)…so I’ve been forced to choose my outfits ahead of time, which is turning out to be pretty tricky. But today is my last day to pack because we’re leaving tomorrow after work! Jon’s hoping to drive the entire way, but we won’t get there until about 6 in the morning and that doesn’t sound fun to me. Jon’s a good driver and everything, but it still makes me nervous. I’m hoping to stop somewhere for the night, though I’m sure that if/when I fall asleep, he’ll try to make it to SLC before I wake up. And then he’ll be wasted the entire next day and we might as well have just stopped and slept for the night since he’ll sleep til three the day we get there, anyway.

But oh well, it’s his call. He’s the one driving, I get to sleep either way.

...And She Was Never the Same Again.

I was recently reminded of a hilarious true event. For the protection of the person involved, the name has been censored. My friend and I were on our way to Provo for EFY the summer before our sophomore year of high school. My grandparents, Sweetie and Poppie, live in Salt Lake City, so *******, my mom (who drove us from Gardnerville, NV to Provo), and I stopped at their house for a night before we had to be in Provo for registration. Sometime in the late afternoon, my friend excused herself to use the restroom. Well she was gone for a long time. A really long time. It got to the point where we all were kind of wondering aloud if everything was okay. I’m talking an absence of, like, 20 minutes. So I decide that maybe I should go check on her and see if everything is okay. I kind of creep around the corner (afraid that she might be sick in there…I have an extreme fear of vomit/people vomiting/animals vomiting/vomiting in movies/any sort of gagging noise whatsoever). So I’m creeping along listening for any strange sounds that might indicate it’s time for me to run away with my hands over my ears…but to my surprise the bathroom door swung wide open. And standing there, with the most stricken look on her face, was my friend, *******. SOMETHING had happened to her in there, but she couldn’t tell me what it was until we were out of earshot from my mother and Sweetie. She practically dragged me downstairs by my arm so she could relate the entire story to me. She had undertaken the challenge to flush a neutrally buoyant turd, but the thing wouldn’t budge. Every time she flushed, it bobbed around in the current, but always held on. We decided that something that doesn’t float OR sink, (but hangs around somewhere between the surface and the bottom) “flinks”. The stubborn little turd involved in this incident has been known as “The Flinker” ever since. After about 5 or 6 flushes, my friend claims that she got so desperate, she even looked to the window…but thankfully with that last flush, it finally gave up the ghost and disappeared down the hole, leaving my friend and I with this story that makes me laugh out loud every time I think about it.

The List Queen

I make lists. Lots of lists. Something to do with not wanting too many thoughts in my head, and liking my own handwriting. If I'm thinking of something, I write it down, and then admire it for a couple of seconds. Whatever, everyone has weird things about them. Anyway, half the time my ideas actually don't even make it to a designated list - they just end up on scraps of paper that lie around the computer desk and coffee table. I don't know, again, it's just one of those weird things. Well, in high school I had a list entitled "Things That Make Me Happy" that I contributed to on a regular basis. I had totally forgotten about it until tonight...I was searching for another one ("The Man of My Dreams") to read off to my mom (so she could see how freaky it is that I ended up marrying Jon; he matches 99% of the items, and I wrote THAT one when I was like 15) when I came across the Happy List. So for everyone's viewing pleasure, a.k.a. Corinne, Jon, maybe Annie, maybe my mom........ Here are some excerpts from "Things That Make Me Happy".

Laughing so hard it hurts
Caramel Popcorn
Surprises
Freshly Painted Toenails
Brand new markers
Conchos on chaps
Watermelon Jolly Ranchers
Waking up fully rested
Tan lines
Chips and Salsa
Pink sunsets
Vanilla milkshakes
The green Extra gum
Whole milk
Music Videos
Popping bubble wrap
Carousels
Pictures of the Eiffel Tower and the Greek Isles
The first snowfall
Songs that remind me of me
The smell of gasoline
The "G" chord on the guitar; and last but definitely not least...
Breakfast for dinner

And on that note, I'm off to pour me some cereal. I don't think I've really eaten anything today, now that I think about it..

The American Academy of Cosmetic Gynecologists Presents....

...Vaginal Rejuvenation: You won't believe your eyes!

Ew. Jon is in Vegas this weekend which means I'm home by myself again, until Sunday. This is very off-topic, but I was cleaning out my Outlook inbox yesterday when I came across this little gem. This is an excerpt out of an email I sent to my sister, Corinne a couple of months ago.

"Jon and I were in the shower last night and I was washing my face, so my eyes were closed and I was scrubbing away. So then I cup my hands under the water for a split second to get a little more water on my face to make more of a lather. So now I'm lathering away, and I step into the water to rinse, and when I open my eyes and look at Jon, his mouth is hanging open a little and I can tell he's wrestling over whether or not he wants to tell me something. So I'm like..what? And he goes....."I was in the process of spitting right when you put your hands out...you caught it in your hands, and before I could say anything you were scrubbing your face again." I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my entire life. I wish I had it on video!!!"

I still snicker to myself every time I think about that. I love those stories, the ones that are something stupid and little, but seriously make your day each time you're reminded of them. Take for example my brother-in-law, Kyle. Like 5 years ago, he handed me a couple of CDs he had burned for me. One of them was the soundtrack to the Prince of Egypt that I had requested. So I'm flipping through the CDs and someone (maybe Corinne?) points out that instead of writing "Prince of Egypt", Kyle has instead written "Prince of Message". Apparently he was distracted when he was writing out the title. Anyway he grabbed a Sharpie, crossed out the 'Message' part and replaced it with 'Egypt'. Just mention "Prince of Message" to me or either of my sisters if you want to see us laugh. Really hard.




Here, you can clearly see where the word "Message" has been replaced. The lingering tail of the "g" is what gives it away. And would you believe it, this is the first time I've noticed that he spelled my name wrong. "Jesse" is a boy's name.

Anyway, enough rambling, now it's off to watch the finale of American's Next Top Model! Anyone but Jenah feel free to win...

More About us...Through Pictures

We were married December 22nd, 2004.

















We were sealed in the Cardston, Alberta temple on December 22nd, 2005.








We lived in a horrible little town called Rexburg, Idaho until Jon graduated from BYU-I sometime in August of 2006, and then it was off to.....















Tucson, Arizona!









Jon got a job at a surgical equipment company. I'm sure this picture doesn't need much explaining, just make sure you don't miss what's on the LCD display.














Since he's off traveling so much, we got a dog to keep me company. Her name is Penny and she's great.

These are my sisters, Corinne (on the left) and Annie (on the right).














This is my family, everyone except my brother Jake who couldn't make it down from Alaska. We call my grandparents "Sweetie" and "Poppie", and we call my dad "The General". Really he's a colonel, but The General sounds better.









And this is the other side of the family, the one I married into. Sorry guys, this is the only picture I had. Plus, it's the best picture EVER.










These are some cupcakes I attempted to make from scratch. I used to blame it on the oven, but I think it's me. I'm probably the least domestic wife on the planet.









And THESE are some false teeth, lying in front of a Lazy Boy chair in middle of the mall in Idaho Falls. Luckily I had my camera on me to take a little snapshot!! Ew.


And that's us in a nutshell. I had about thirty other pictures I wanted to throw on here, but I thought I'd keep it relevant and concise for the time being.

The Sweet Girls

There are three girls in the Sweet family - Corinne being the oldest, Annie in the middle, and Jessie the youngest. We're all two years apart and as great as we get along now, things didn't always go so smoothly growing up. Three is a volatile number to begin with - one of us was always left out. I hardly have any memories of the three of us playing nicely together, but I do recollect lots of games that ended in screaming, crying, and whining. Annie swears that as a 5 year old she got tricked into playing a "game" with Corinne. The basic rules were as follows.

1) Corinne was to stand in the middle of the game area holding a large hula hoop perpendicular to the ground.

2) Annie was to drive her Bigwheel in circles around Corinne, and

3) Each time Annie passed through the hula hoop, she had to give Corinne one of her toys.

It took Annie a couple of rounds to realize it wasn't a very fun way to pass the time. You can imagine how vehemently Corinne denies ever inventing such a game. But knowing Corinne, I kind of believe Annie. Sorry!

Another one of Corinne's favorite activities was playing off my extreme fear of bees. Actually, Annie joined in on this one too. I have no idea why I had such a fear (I've never been stung, even to this day) but if I even so much as imagined I saw a bee flying across the yard, I'd sprint away shrieking and bobbing and weaving and flailing my over-long arms in every direction. There were many occasions that I'd walk outside to join my sisters, only to be greeted with "JUSSKUH! There's a HUGE BEE on you! Ewwww it just crawled into your hair! EWWW it's LAYING EGGS IN YOUR HAIR! Egg-head, egg-head!" ...and the aforementioned reaction would take hold. Please note that this was a regular occurrence. Always the same wording, too. A huge bee, a huge bee was laying eggs in my hair....and so on, and so forth.

One time we were at the barn with one of Annie's horrible friends, Christina Hulbert. My mom was off doing manual barn-labor somewhere and we were taking a little grey pony named Sugar out to pasture. We weren't allowed to ever ride without a helmet, but Corinne convinced me to get on this stupid pony bareback while Christina led her along. So someone gave me a leg-up, and away we went. Well, Corinne whispers something to Annie's horrible friend, and the next thing I know she's tugging at the stupid pony to get it to trot. Keep in mind that I had no saddle and this pony had THE choppiest trot on earth. After about two seconds I've slid underneath its belly and am now tangled up around its feet. My body was literally wrapped around its legs, I don't know how, but it was. Mention this story to my sister and TO THIS DAY she will pee her pants laughing. According to her, Sugar was so irritated by this little body caught between it's hooves, that it was stepping gingerly and trying to kick me loose. The only time I've ever seen Corinne laugh so hard was when we were playing on the zip line at a park in Alaska. We were taking turns pushing each other, but I wanted to go faster so I told Corinne to give me a good shove. Next thing I know she's hit me with the momentum built up as a result of a running start. I'm flying along at 40 miles an hour until the slider hits the end of the rail. My pace then slowed to 30 miles an hour as I flipped through the air. I don't remember landing, just waking up with Corinne doubled over in laughter over top of me. And I specifically remember not being able to breath for the first few seconds. The only time I've ever had the wind knocked out of me.

Anyway, Corinne was worried when I first mentioned wanting to add a post like this, so I've got to add a note here. Of course none of this was funny when it happened, but I've seriously got sore abs and tears rolling down my face thinking back on it. No one gets along with their siblings growing up, do they? It's too bad that by the time you can stand each other, you hardly ever see each other anymore. Actually...now that I think about it, I'm sure the distance IS the reason why we can finally get along now. And I get to see them for Christmas in only two weeks! Hooray!

Cute Cats, Creepy Cats

So this is one of my favorite examples off of the icanhascheezburger website. I've got a link to it on the right panel. There are some real gems on there. There's also an option to create your own.....so I did. It never got published but I don't know why because I think it's totally great. Maybe I just love it so much because it's my sister's creepy cat sitting on her husband's shoulder....

Accident Prone

We’ve been accident prone lately. Jon was in Boise the beginning of November and got smashed in an elevator, which sounds funnier than it actually was. He was holding the door for his sister in an old building downtown and the thing just closed on him. She jumped out of the way (thank goodness, since she’s pregnant) and he got pinned for a few moments until the door retracted. What the heck! He’s been experiencing some pains in his chest and back ever since, and he’s been in touch with a lawyer to make sure the building owner pays for all the medical bills. Plus at least 5 million in pain and suffering. No, just kidding. Kind of. Now he always takes the stairs, even if it’s 30 stories. Okay, nothing about that last sentence was true, but it makes me laugh to think about it. That, and Jon darting past the open doors of an elevator and then flattening himself against the farthest wall. It’s not funny. But it kind of is. And then about a week after his incident, I was in a car accident. Actually, the Defensive Driving instructor told us all to only use the word “collision”…I guess just to make a point of the seriousness. I had to go to this class to clear my ticket that I was given DESPITE the fact that I was hit by a car traveling in an illegal lane that was absolutely impossible to see. Apparently Arizona law says that if you are EVER turning left and are involved in a “collision”, no matter that the circumstances, you are at least partially at fault. That includes turning left on a green arrow. If a car runs the red light and hits you…you will be cited. What! Oh well, we’re still waiting to hear back from the insurance to see who’s responsible for what. Anyway, the driving course I went to was at least 60% 70 years or older. So many old people that had no business being in a car to begin with. This one guy kept raising his hand to make comments, and he was literally yelling his answers. It was so awkward. And to make matters even more painful, he was sitting right behind me. I swear my ears leaked blood. And this little old lady was telling a story about how important it is to wear seatbelts. Her story begins like this. “My husband is an invalid.” What! Who says that?! Why not “my husband needs assistance” or “my husband is paralyzed”? Anyway her story has to do with her putting him in the car but forgetting to buckle his seatbelt. So she looks over after turning the corner out of her house and he’s all slumped over in the seat. So she went to sit him back up and buckle him in (while still driving, mind you) and she went off the road. Hm. Another great moment of the day was when the instructor said that someone must have been “twisting” his “gourd”. I think he was going for “cord” but he said “gourd” and I almost laughed out loud. The only thing I could think of at that point was my sister Annie. Gourd is her favorite word. I once met a guy named Gourd (it was probably “Gord” short for “Gordon”)…and it was the best day of Annie’s life when I told her about it. Anyway, another long tangent, and now it’s time to go.

Paintball Freaks

So I played paintball today for the first time in my life. It was an outing arranged and paid for by my company - not surprisingly, only four of us from the office showed up. My coworkers are notorious for avoiding any office events. Since I've never played paintball before I didn't really know what to expect, but I was given fair warning that some of the people that show up to play are kind of extreme. No kidding. There were a couple of nerds there that showed up in full blown gear - CO2 tanks on their backs, wearing these black and red neoprene looking vests and whatnot...just really really weird. And before each round they'd try and give us a briefing of some sort.."Okay, most of you go up the middle, we're going to go to the left and pick people off from there, some of you go to the right...we've got to WORK AS A TEAM here or else they're infiltrate..." Okay so, yeah right, like I'm going to go running up the middle. Stupid. I kind of hang back (I was NOT hiding) and watch the first round. One of these freaks is staking out a spot in front of me about 15 yards off, so I get to watch him work. About ten minutes into it, almost everyone is out, and he's having some standoff with some guy from the other team that I can't see. Well, I am not kidding you, as I watch this kid, he ducks behind this wall and sits with his back against it, takes the remaining few swallows out of his water bottle, adjusts his mask to wipe the sweat off his forehead...moves into a crouching position, gun ready, and TOSSES the bottle away from his position. And he waits, thinking some guy is going to come running out after his water bottle shooting, possibly thinking it's a human being?!?! My mouth just kind of hung open. If he had turned and seen me, he would have seen me shaking my head in disbelief. What! It was the stupidest thing I've ever seen. Anyway, paintball, quite an experience. I only got hit a couple of times, one was a direct hit to my head. My hair was covered in boogery green paint. And I also took one to the mask, it obscured about 80 percent of my vision. But all in all, not as painful and intense as I expected. Oh, I did see a guy get shot directly in the balls though...Ew.

Snapes and Large Birds...

So, I suck because this is the first post I've done in forever. For some reason this blog thing just doesn't seem to stick. I definitely have lots of time to work on it, so I really don't have an excuse other than that I spend way too much time on Facebook and watching reality TV when I could be blogging. Okay so an update - We're now living in Tucson, Arizona; we've actually been here for over a year. Jon randomly got an awesome job as a surgical sales representative. Don't let the word "sales" fool you though, his job basically consists of gynecologists spending ridiculous amounts of money on plastic surgery equipment (mostly lipo, boobs, and "cosmetic gynecology" which is exactly what you might imagine it to be and much, much more) and paying for him to fly out and set it up. Then he walks them through their first "procedure" (that's what we're supposed to call it, I guess it's insensitive to say that someone "got the fat sucked out of them". We say they "got their procedure done"). Ew. And I got a really great job as a receptionist/admin support at a civil engineering firm that I really enjoy. We got a cute little dog (to keep me company during the many days each month Jon is traveling) and we spend way too much money eating out, but it's one of my favorite things to do. We also got some baby cornsnakes - they're really pretty but I got the biggest shock of my life the other day when we were at the petstore buying their food and there was this HUGE cage with an ENORMOUS snake inside of it..I'm not kidding this thing was five feet long. Anyway it was a cornsnake. Ew! And one of ours (the male, Severus) is at severe risk of getting that big, he eats more than any animal on earth should be able to eat. The other one, the female (Bellatrix) should die any day now, she's an idiot and doesn't know food when it crawls on top of her, literally. We call them the "snapes" for obvious reasons, and it still makes me snicker. And, ew, we have to feed them these nasty little baby mice...apparently in the snake world they're called "pinkies" because they're one day old and you have to put them in the freezer to kill them and all the bacteria on them (I've been told they just "go to sleep" when they get cold, which I'm still having trouble buying.). Anyway, like I was saying before, we went to the pet store to get some "pinkies" for Severus to eat and Bellatrix to hide from, and there was this big old cage with a HUGE macaw inside, the biggest parrot I've ever seen in my life (and my sister loves birds, so I've seen my share, particularly in Bird Fancy magazine, as well as on numerous T-shirts she enjoyed wearing as a kid). Anyway this thing was HUGE. So it's clamboring around inside and I'm looking at it because it's so pretty, and Jon is staring at it with his mouth open because he thinks birds are reptiles and that if you look in their eyes, you can "just tell" that they don't have souls. Okay so we're both watching this HUGE bird clambor around inside it's cage, when it gets to a point where all the bars are vertical, it loses its grip and he's hanging on to the top bar with his beak and his feet are just sliding around on the bars, trying to get a foot hold. Well he gives up after a few moments and just hangs there, this thing must have weighed 30 pounds, and he was just swinging back and forth from his beak. And I'm watching his feet, and as he swings they every so often come even with the cage bars. So I get all brave, right, and I'm thinking "I wonder what his feet feel like?". So I get my pointer finger all ready to touch his toe the next time it comes close to the outside of the cage. So I've got my finger up, kind of holding it close to my body...and then Jon starts to say something so I get distracted and look over at him. AND THE VERY NEXT SECOND, something has GRABBED onto my hand and I scream and wrench my poor hand from the grip of this desperate macaw. You wouldn't believe it if I told you that I laughed the whole way home, but I did. And I called my sister Annie (the bird lover) over and over and over again, but she wasn't answering, so I resorted to telling her the story over her voicemail because I just couldn't wait to tell her. Turns out she was on the phone with our other sister, Corinne, and I was really bugging the heck out of her by calling her constantly over those several minutes. Anyway, typing Corinne's name just now reminded me of some GREAT stories that will just have to wait until another day to tell, because this post has already gotten out of hand.