Monday, June 30, 2008

Cars I've Driven

As you can tell by the title, this will be the most boring post I’ve ever written. Don’t expect any twists and turns or surprise endings. It's not really for anyone's enjoyment but my own. It’s just that on my way home from work yesterday I started reminiscing, and then I started thinking in complete sentences, and the post pretty much wrote itself before I even sat down at a computer.

Jumping right into it – the first car I ever drove was an old Buick Park Avenue. My mom taught music classes to kids through a program called Kindermusik throughout my high school years, and this car was her “Kindermusik Mobile”. The license plate read “Kmusik”, which somehow became converted into “kussmika” within my circle of friends. The Kussmika became such an icon that I even staged a silly photo shoot with it at the end of my senior year before my mom sold it.

(I may or may not have handed out this picture to a select few people in place of a grad photo)

Whether or not I drove the Kussmika to school during my sophomore year depended on whether or not my mom had to teach classes that day. My other alternative for a while was the huge grey Suburban. Let me tell you something about the Suburban. It was 12 years old by the time I was ever able to drive it, but I still always thought of it as brand new. At some point it turned old and rusted and decrepit, and the doors were falling off, but I still always pictured myself as an excited four year old in the backseat, my dad taking us all for a spin around Ft. Leavenworth, Kansas in the new car.

That thing was a monster, which came in handy at Douglas High. Right-of-way was determined strictly by the size of your vehicle, and traffic at that high school was INSANE. I personally witnessed at least two moderately severe accidents take place in the parking lot. A year after I graduated, I found out that they were putting a traffic circle into the busiest intersection at the high school, and I thought the whole world was going crazy. I wonder how that's going for them, by the way.

Due to the size of the Suburban, I could easily pile in 5 or 6-plus friends at lunchtime. Once, when we had about 8 of us in the car, the curious soul in the passenger seat decided to check out what was in the tape deck. My dad had just returned from a hunting trip in Utah, and we were blasted with duck quacking nonsense. I guess he’d been practicing his duck call during his trip home. I like to think it was playing for the full eight hours. Anyway, instead of turning the noise off, we turned it UP, rolled down the windows, and laughed until we cried.

The summer before my junior year, a guy that my dad knew died, and my dad bought everything in his garage, including a little old, blue Honda Accord, for $1,100. It sounds like he robbed the widow, but really, she was just looking to get rid of everything as soon as possible, and was beyond grateful that The General was willing to take it. The fact that he paid some money for it all was the icing on the cake.

That little car was for my own use. It wasn’t MY car, per se, but I didn’t have to share it with anyone else. It was the greatest – it was old, but it had power locks and windows and a moon roof. And pop-up lights, which I thought were the best thing ever. I learned to drive stick, and it made me feel important. No air conditioning, though, and that thing was a FURNACE. You’d open the door after it had been sitting in the summer sun for a few hours, and you could watch the heat waves escaping. The steering wheel was always too hot to touch, so I kept a pair of socks on the front seat to pull over my hands like mittens. Ridiculous. In the winter, though, the heater was so fierce that I could climb in the car in the morning with wet hair, aim the vents a certain way, and arrive at school with my hair perfectly blown-dry.

I hit a skunk in that poor car one Halloween, and it sprayed it so badly that my mom was certain the carcass was hung up in the undercarriage. A thorough search via flashlight proved otherwise, but that car smelled like skunk from then on for as long as I had it. The spray must have gone directly up some special pipe straight into the interior. I tried giving the whole thing a Febreze bath, and to this day, I can’t stand the smell of that stuff. It reminds me too much of skunk, because it didn’t eliminate the odor, it just mixed with it.


But few short months after the skunk incident, Corinne and Kyle got married, and little “Sugars” (as she came to be known) was passed on to them (after a harrowing drive through a mountain pass and California freeways, but that’s a long story. It goes like this - I had to drive the car to Vacaville, California from Gardnerville, Nevada, and it was really really scary. Okay, so it’s a short story. (Name that movie.))

Anyway, this particular car’s life chronicle has a tragic ending. Not long after they were married, Corinne and Kyle moved to New York City and attempted to bring the little car with them. It got broken into on a consistent basis, and once all the good stuff was gone, thieves got creative by stealing ice scrapers and chamois cloths and other ridiculous stuff, instead. It became such a hassle that when it got impounded, Corinne and Kyle just let the State have it.

The next car on my list is the Jeep. I drove the Jeep throughout the majority of my senior year. For some reason or another, The General was absolutely in LOVE with this car. It was given to him for Army use, and when it went up for auction a few years later, he drove all the way to California for the chance of placing the highest bid. And he succeeded. It was a miracle that he even let me drive it, really, and even more so after I ran it into the garage wall. It sounds like a bigger deal than it actually was…I was going about one mile an hour and scraped against the entrance. Just left a little bit of white paint on the black bumper, which was easy enough to conceal with Sharpie, but I totally underestimated his hawk-eyes because he came home from work and immediately demanded to know why there were black markings on the bumper. Like I said, it's a miracle I was even allowed near the Jeep after that incident. He loved that thing. It was a true mark of selflessness when he gave it to us for our wedding. Like handing over his first-born. We really got the great end of that deal, too, if you look at what WE ended up with compared to what Corinne and Kyle ended up with. An old skunky Honda. Sorry, guys. But not really.

Then, there's the Mazda. Jon's car. That thing is a champion. 350,000 kilometers on her and she's still going. We wouldn't blame her if she just up and died, but so far, she's still going. I asked Jon once what he'd do if he won the lottery, and he said he'd fix up the Maz really nicely...then he listed off all the fixes and upgrades he'd have done, and I'm absolutely certain that he's not even halfway kidding. Sure, he would get a new car, too, but he wouldn't get rid of the Maz. We will have that car until she's broken beyond all repair.

Anyway, those are my musings for the day. Sorry for the boring subject matter. You know I warned you.



Eavesdropping

Overhead in a Circle K while perusing the snack aisle:

Female Cashier to Male Cashier: [looks up from writing a note] How do you spell "instead"?
Male Cashier to Female Cashier: I-N-S-T-E-A-D
Female Cashier: [..................crumple crumple, throws paper in the trash]

Stupid people make me happy. Is that bad?

Friday, June 27, 2008

Three Things:

First, I posted a new link on my favorites... you’ve GOT to check out this blog. It’s a perfect spoof of the typical young Utah-Mormon wife blog, complete with a ticker counting down the days to the final book in the Twilight Saga. And yes, she uses “they’re”, “their”, and “there” interchangeably. Hilarious.

Second, you’ve got to try drizzling honey on Cheerios. I’m not talking about honeynut Cheerios, I’m talking about taking regular old Cheerios and sweetening them with honey instead of sugar.

And third, whoever can name what this is from first wins my respect.



(Here's a hint - I first employed Jon's hand for this photo, but his pinky wouldn't cooperate.)

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Monsoon, I Love Thee

So yeah, it’s hot in Tucson and all, and we hardly get any rain…but when it DOES rain, it all comes at once, and it’s AWESOME. It’s pretty much a hurricane outside right now as I'm writing this. Driving rain, palm trees swaying, derbis scattered about, rivers flowing across roads, CRAZY lightning, CRAZY thunder…just all around awesomeness. And it seriously looks like it’s 8 o’clock at night, except it’s only three. It may or may not take me two hours to get home today. And it will do this almost every afternoon for the next couple of weeks. If you ever wanted to visit Tucson, seriously, now’s the time. We have a spare bedroom. I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned this before. Have I also mentioned that Jon travels a lot, and I’m lonely?

Here are some pictures of the storm and my office's flooded parking lot. And the palm tree outside of my window that was taking a beating.






And another important announcement....I made this today. Drew it on a post-it note.



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

UPDATE: It didn't take me two hours to get home. It took the same amount of time as it always does. Then we went and got groceries, and Jon took this picture of the sunset with his camera phone in the Safeway parking lot. When we have storm clouds, we have amazing sunsets.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Question of the Hour

The question of the hour (and for NO GOOD REASON, so don’t start getting all excited) is this:

What are my parents’ grandkids going to call them?

All the best ones have already been taken by previous generations within my family. Nana and Mimi are pretty much the best grandma nicknames, but my two longest-lived great-grandmothers were Nana and Mimi. We call my paternal grandparents Sweetie and Poppie. Really now, Sweetie is pretty much the best grandma nickname EVER. I think Pops or Papa are great for a grandfather, but are they too close to Poppie? Will it be confusing? Gramma and Grampa are kind of fun, but not very original. I regularly lurk a stranger’s blog whose grandparents are called DeeDee and Gumpy. Gumpy! Hilarious. Oma and Opa are fun if you’re German. My parents lived in Germany for a while, and my mom gave birth to two kids there…is that close enough? Oh, and I’ve always thought that MeMaw was kind of fun. MeMaw and G’pa. Hm. Maybe MeMaw is a little too weird. I don’t know. My mom was once in an airport, and her name on her boarding pass was missing the V, so it said “Icky Sweet” and she had to show it to all the security people and the gate attendants and stuff. So now I tease her by saying our kids will call them Icky and The General. The General may actually work, but Icky!! Gramma Icky! Awesome. Anyway, sorry for the random speculation. I guess ultimately, it’s up to my parents, right? Is that how it works? They decide for themselves? I shouldn’t even be wasting my time thinking about this, but I’m so weird about names that NOT knowing what they’ll be called sometimes gets me a little anxious. But only a little.

Monday, June 23, 2008

Photobombing

First, look at this blog. My brother-in-law Kyle sent me this link while I was at work, and I laughed until I cried. Really. At work. It was kind of embarrassing. At least, it would have been, if anyone had seen. Anyway...

Is it any surprise that I've bombed my own fair share of photos? In fact, my friend Brittany posted THIS one on her blog just a couple of days ago, so you can imagine how excited I was that I was introduced into the company of so many other bombers. (Granted, that picture was silly to begin with, but they had no idea of the true horror that was taking place behind them until the film was developed.)

Another classic move of mine is to hijack cameras from unsuspecting people, and then take a hideous photo, and then put the camera back undetected. So two weeks later, someone is looking through all their happy, fun photos and WHAM. There I am.

And no matter HOW many times I steal my brother-in-law Steve's phone and put an ugly picture of myself as his background, he still accidentally leaves it lying around in one room while he's in the next.

I guess that this picture that I just posted last week could be considered an attempted photobomb, except that the hooligan kids in front of us were inexplicably in on the joke.

Anyway, all these thoughts went through my mind when I first viewed the link that Kyle sent me, but THEN a new image swam to the front of my mind. In a split second I went from reminiscing about THIS picture that we took last summer with Annie's stolen phone.....




(This is my mom's favorite ugly picture of me. I use the word "favorite" loosely.)


.....to searching frantically for THIS photo, taken by me, via disposable camera, at Corinne and Kyle's wedding.



I love how Corinne is standing in the receiving line all by herself while her groom takes the moment to dart into photographs. And I love how this would actually be a really cute picture of Annie, except for Kyle in the background. And I love how Annie spent the next three minutes after I took this asking why Kyle and I were laughing so hard. And I love that I was able to dig up this photo of Kyle himself photobombing, when he was the one that had sent me the link that started this entire thought process to begin with.

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

Edited to Add: One time, I THOUGHT I took a sneaky picture with Annie's camera, but it was actually MY camera, so I surprised myself with a surprise ugly photo.

Weekend Fun

We had a really great weekend, minus one or two hitches. We were all packed up and heading to Phoenix to spend a couple of days with my Aunt Stacey and Uncle Dave when we stopped to grab something to eat, and the Jeep overheated in the drive-through. We thought we’d pull around to the front and turn it off for a few minutes, but she still wouldn’t start after we finished our lunch. By this point, Penny was starting to get desperate from the heat, so I carried her across the hot asphalt to a Petco that was, thankfully, in the same general area. Jon met us inside a few minutes later (after burning his hand on the hood of the Jeep) and we just hung out in the cool for about 45 minutes before Jon was able to fire her up. We made it back home with no problem, but we were starting to really worry about our planned weekend of fun… We didn’t feel like putting ourselves at risk of overheating somewhere between Picacho and who-knows-where, and ending up on the side of the highway in 110 degree heat. But we had been looking forward to this weekend for a while. Jon’s always out of town and this was a rare weekend we were going to spend together, swimming and shopping and visiting with family. Finally, we decided to wait a couple of hours for it to cool off a bit, then take the Mazda, which has no air conditioning. It’s worth it, though, because that thing gets about 40 miles to the gallon, as opposed to the Jeep’s ridiculous 14(ish). We loaded up on bottled water and took off. It really wasn’t too bad, and I poured water on Penny to keep her comfortable.

When we first got there, we changed into swimsuits and jumped into their pool for some night swimming. Penny was on the other side of the fence, trying to figure out what to do with herself. She’s not used to a yard, so she was kind of awkward for the first little while – anxious about us in the pool, but excited to have room to run around. She ended up sticking her head through the pool fence bars a few minutes at a time, then running around and barking her head off at all the sights. Stacey and Dave’s old Jack Russell terrier, Harley, came outside for a few minutes to check things out, then got sick of Penny trying to play with him, and ran back inside. He’s such a sweet, round little thing. He looks almost like a cartoon – his little face is always so happy and he looks like he’s smiling all the time. And he knows a couple of tricks, one of which Jon has dubbed the “Can o’ Beans”. He balances and holds his front feet up to beg, but he’s so round that his whole body rocks back and he sits on his butt with his feet sticking straight out in front of him.

And he’ll sit like that for as long as you hold the treat over his head. So hilarious. Anyway, we slept in the next morning until about 8, then just kind of had a lazy day. Jon made some phone calls to friends and family while I read a book. Stacey and Dave were nice enough to let us borrow their Lexus to take to lunch, then afterwards they treated us with a trip to the movie theater to see Kung Fu Panda, which was actually, surprisingly, really good. I wasn’t expecting to like it, but it was just overall cleverness and fun. I really can’t knock it. And the absence of potty humor (typically infused into all kids movies) was a plus. I don’t remember rolling my eyes a single time.

Then that night, we all went to eat at a fun, wild west themed restaurant in north Scottsdale, way the heck outside of the city. On our way back to the car, Jon spotted a javelina wandering along the old rickety wooden walkway of the building. It’s the first one we’ve seen that wasn’t fenced into some sort of enclosure. I’ve heard enough horror stories about those things feeling threatened and goring people to death with their tusks, so I was maintaining a safe distance (read: I made sure there were other people that were closer to it than I was), but when this guy walked into the light of an overhead streetlamp, then turned to face us, I admit I got a little nervous and started to take a few steps back. In that exact same moment, a wild-eyed, crazed black devil of a cat came bolting out of the cactus that was between us and the pig, and my heart pretty much stopped. For about one-tenth of a second, I honestly, truly thought it was an angry javelina coming for my femoral artery. This crazy cat came right at us, then spun and almost ran into the javelina, then skittered away into the shadows. My heart was racing for a good minute afterwards, and we all had a big laugh at my terrified reaction. So IMAGINE HOW EXCITED I WAS TO DISCOVER that Jon had been taking a little movie of the pig with his phone AT THE EXACT MOMENT that the cat appeared! I couldn’t believe my luck. Seriously, within three seconds of the event, I was already planning out my blog post about it, only to find out (the next day) that Jon had caught the whole thing with his phone. So I watched the video……..…and was really disappointed. It just doesn’t do it any justice. For starters, it's way too dark to even see what's going on, and it's just not as exciting as it was in person. Although if you crank the volume and listen carefully, you can definitely hear me gasp, then say "oh my gosh, that scared me! I seriously thought it was a javelina! ahhh..."

video

I wish I had screamed bloody murder, so you could see how startled I was, but as it is, you’ll just have to be content knowing that it was A LOT scarier than it seems in the video. You really only get a fraction of the drama. A clip of my face would have been way better.

Sunday we went to church, then had a yummy dinner of grilled chicken, fruit, and a salad with peas. I LOVE peas in salad. Really, there may be no other salad ingredient better than peas. Except maybe strawberries. My mom makes a killer strawberry salad. I attempted it once, but I put way too much poppyseed dressing in it, and haven’t tried again since. Apparently I give up very easily.

Anyway, after dinner we just visited until the sun went down so we could begin our drive home. We hosed Penny down, stuffed her in the back seat, and away we went. I wish I could say our trip home was uneventful, but we got stuck in traffic for a good hour just outside of a little town called Eloy. By the time we got to the accident site, things had started moving along better, but every single news van in Southern Arizona was lining both sides of the street. There were a bunch of these huge, tall temporary spotlights set up so they could get a better shot of the accident - an overturned bus about 50 yards from the highway. I just felt sick to my stomach after seeing it, and we hurried home and made it back just in time for the 11:00 news. And not a SINGLE WORD was mentioned about it. The news here SUCKS. This isn't the first time that I've experienced a big newsworthy event and been disappointed in the local media. I was on my way home from work a couple of months ago, for example, and the entire city was being consumed by some huge fire...you could honestly only see about a half-mile in any direction, and ASH was falling from the sky...and there wasn't a single mention of it on the news. What?! And once, the main vein from East to West in this city was closed...completely shut down, and not even the TRAFFIC section of the local news said anything about it. It took me two hours to get to work that day because thousands and thousands of vehicles were creeping down back roads between o-1 mile per hour. No mention of it. Nothing. Anyway, so I wasn't too surprised that local news had let me down YET again. This morning, though, it was all over the papers - a bus carrying 30 kids home from a church youth group trip to California overcorrected and went off the highway. Thankfully, only three or four of the kids were considered in critical condition, and I heard later today that they were all being released. Scary, though, huh? Anyway, so sitting in traffic for an hour on our way home from Phoenix was our second hitch in the weekend. We ended up getting home way past my bedtime, and I fell asleep without taking a shower first. Kind of gross, considering how sweaty I was.

And that was our weekend. In general, it was perfect. Other things on my mind today include:

1) Why did Jon eat so many doughnuts at work today that he doesn't want to eat dinner?

2) What are we going to do with Penny at Christmas? She's too big to be a carry-on, and storing her under the plane is cruel. They say most dogs arrive at their destination foaming at the mouth because they've worked themselves into a nervous panic. Options include kenneling her for over a week, or renting a car and driving it up. According to Avis, there's no additional charge to take one of their cars to Canada, we just have to sign a waiver.

3) Speaking of Christmas, how early is too early to start thinking about Christmas presents? This year is HALFWAY OVER already.

4) Speaking of presents, we bought new couches and they arrive tomorrow! Pictures to follow, I'm sure.

5) I'm sorry for how long this post was. I'll make up for it later on by posting a few really ugly pictures of myself. How's that sound?

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Made my Day

This is the best article I’ve seen on Slate in a long time. Here’s a link to the original article.



“There are many things people do not know about BARACK OBAMA. It is every American's duty to read this message and pass it along to all of their friends and loved ones.

Barack Obama wears a FLAG PIN at all times. Even in the shower.

Barack Obama says the PLEDGE OF ALLEGIANCE every time he sees an American flag. He also ends every sentence by saying, "WITH LIBERTY AND JUSTICE FOR ALL." Click here for video of Obama quietly mouthing the PLEDGE OF ALLEGIANCE in his sleep.

A tape exists of Michelle Obama saying the PLEDGE OF ALLEGIANCE at a conference on PATRIOTISM.

Every weekend, Barack and Michelle take their daughters HUNTING.

Barack Obama is a PATRIOTIC AMERICAN. He has one HAND over his HEART at all times. He occasionally switches when one arm gets tired, which is almost never because he is STRONG.

Barack Obama has the DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE tattooed on his stomach. It's upside-down, so he can read it while doing sit-ups.

There's only one artist on Barack Obama's iPod: FRANCIS SCOTT KEY.

Barack Obama is a DEVOUT CHRISTIAN. His favorite book is the BIBLE, which he has memorized. His name means HE WHO LOVES JESUS in the ancient language of Aramaic. He is PROUD that Jesus was an American.

Barack Obama goes to church every morning. He goes to church every afternoon. He goes to church every evening. He is IN CHURCH RIGHT NOW.

Barack Obama's new airplane includes a conference room, a kitchen, and a MEGACHURCH.

Barack Obama's skin is the color of AMERICAN SOIL.

Barack Obama buys AMERICAN STUFF. He owns a FORD, a BASEBALL TEAM, and a COMPUTER HE BUILT HIMSELF FROM AMERICAN PARTS. He travels mostly by FORKLIFT.

Barack Obama says that Americans cling to GUNS and RELIGION because they are AWESOME.”




(The highlight of this article was in the comments where some unfortunate soul posted “I don’t believe he travels by forklift.”)

Friday, June 13, 2008

Thanks for the Warning


Really? Just eyes? Not ears..........or hands......or necks? Why so specific?

About Jon. And Me. Me and Jon.

I was doing my usual rounds of lurking on peoples blogs that I a) Used to know, and b) Don’t know at all, when I came across kind of a fun survey thing all about husbands and early relationship stuff. So even though I didn’t even know this person, and they have no idea that it’s NOT the first time I’ve looked at their blog…I stole the idea.

What’s his name? Jonathan Glen Jensen.

Where’s he from? Raymond, Alberta.

How long have we been together? Over four years.

How long did we date? We dated for 6 months before getting engaged, and we were engaged for three months. Typical Mormon timeline.

How old is he? 32!

Who eats more? Him, but it’s not like he eats double or triple what I eat, like a lot of other guys…(I’m looking at YOU, Jake Hansen)

Who said “I love you” first? Him, but sometimes he tries to deny it.

Who is taller? Him, but only by a couple of inches. When I wear heels, he sulks.

Who is smarter? Science-y and anatomy/biology/chemistry/psychology/math related –Him. Random memory/useless knowledge/trivia related –Me. You decide which one is more impressive.

Who is funnier? Him. Jon has a way of making everyone around him laugh without even really trying. (“I try really hard, actually”…name that movie!). I think that I’m wittier, though. Jon doesn’t think I’m funny at all. He only laughs at me when I do something stupid, and not when I say anything clever.

Who does the laundry? Laundry is half and half, I think. Maybe a little more Jon. 60% him, 40% me. He also does the dishes 90% of the time. I always clean the bathrooms, vacuum, wash the floors, and dust though, so it’s kind of even. We haven’t quite worked out yet who “tidies” the house, so although it might look messy, it IS clean.

Who pays the bills? We haven’t combined bank accounts (They require you to bring in your marriage license…what a hassle) and Jon didn’t have checks until recently, so his student loans used to come out of MY account and it drove me crazy. So he bought some checks and now he takes care of that bill. As he should. I take care of rent and utilities each month. Jon takes care of car insurance. Pretty much everything else (my cell phone, electricity, internet and TV) is on auto-pay.

Who sleeps on the left side? Facing the bed, I do. Because it’s further from the door, and Jon thinks he’s protecting me by making me sleep there.

Who cooks dinner? Ummm….pass.

Who drives? Jon. Always Jon. Because I HATE it. And he loves it.

Who asked who out first? It didn’t really happen like that. My friend Lianna married his brother, and we met at the reception. When I saw him from across the room, I jokingly told her that he was my “future eternal companion”, and she told HIM that I said that. And I didn’t even care, because I knew I’d never see him again. We weren’t even really introduced there, I don’t think…we just saw each other and maybe exchanged a few words while standing in a group. Actually, I do specifically remember Kellie telling him that he looked like Jon Paul whats-his-face from American Idol, so we all definitely must have been standing around at some point. Anyway, like a week and a half later, Lianna and her new husband were in Gardnerville (I want to say they stopped by to pick up some stuff from her parent’s house after their honeymoon? Maybe? Apparently I can remember every detail about people’s lives except my OWN.) and my parents had just bought a new hot tub, so I invited them over for the evening. Right after confirming the time, and before hanging up, Lianna hastily added “Oh yeah, and Jon’s coming, too.” And I don’t think I even knew his name by this point, because I thought she meant JOSH, one of Darcy’s old roommates. So he showed up on my porch with them, and I finally made the connection that it was the guy at the wedding – the one I had professed my lust for. He was looking particularly hot in his grey Puma t-shirt...and then again in his swim shorts…and we all spent that night in the hot tub. Jon mentioned something about root beer floats, and I told him that we had the fixings for one, so we all went into the house. While Jon made one up for himself, he had his first encounter with The General (it was a pass-by warning…“Don’t eat all the ice cream”). The next night, Lianna invited me to go bowling with them and we hung out at her parent’s house afterwards. (Interjection – both of her parents are named Lyn(ne), so we call them “The Lynnes” and it cracks me up every time). After that night when we bowled, they all went back up to Idaho, and Jon and I spent hours each day talking online, and on the phone. By the time he came back again with Darcy and Lianna a few weeks later, we were in deep smit. [pause for air] So... taking us back to the original question -- There was really no "asking out" involved, I don't think.

Who kissed who first? I kissed him.

Who proposed? He did. We shopped for wedding rings when we were in Alberta a few weeks before, and once I’d decided the one I wanted, we sent word to the jeweler, and his uncle drove it down on his way to a wedding in Saint Anthony. We were at the reception when his uncle handed it to him, and he took me out into the backyard and asked the question. Then, he opened the case….wrong ring. I didn’t want to say anything, in case he’d decided on his own to get me a different one than the one I’d wanted…but this ring was so ugly, and not even close to what I’d wanted..so I just kind of stared at it, confused. Thankfully, after a moment or so of looking, Jon goes, “Huh.” (Classic Jon! If you know him, you know the sound! His cousin’s three-year old daughter once said “Jon never says anything, he just says ‘huh’!) The chairs were wet and I looked like I’d peed my pants when we went inside. We got the real ring a few weeks later.

What day were you married and why? December 22nd, because the 21st was unavailable. And because I’ve always wanted a Christmasy wedding.

Where did you go on the honeymoon? Disneyland, and a word of advice: Never go at Christmastime. The day after Christmas, there was a sign out front that said “Disneyland is full”. FULL! They were only letting people in as people came out! Ridiculous. And it rained the whole week. And Jon was sick the entire time. I told him I was sorry that the thought of marrying me made him violently ill. We had fun, anyway, despite it all. Here are a couple of pictures, taken with a disposable camera. We were too poor to afford digital. Or a regular film camera, apparently.


(outside of our motel, and across the street from the park. I guess I could have posted this picture of me with dark hair when I was contemplating hair options in an earlier post, but it's so much more fun doing it through hairmixer.com. Also, Jon looks like he's never seen a camera before.)


(The result of walking around in the rain all day long....water climbs up your jeans)

Now brace yourself for the best photo ever taken on California Screamin'. Bear in mind that we in no way, shape, or form collaborated with the kids in front of us for this photo. Pure coincidence that the four coolest people inside of California Adventure that day ended up in the same photo frame.


Moving on...

How long have you been married? Three and a half years, although Jon has said more than once that the first year counted for at least five.

Who has more friends? Haha. Him. Overwhelmingly him. No matter how you look at it.

Who is more sensitive? Sensitive? I definitely cry more, but I’m not sure if that counts. Jon’s the most sensitive guy I’ve ever met.

Who has more siblings? He does. I’ve got two sisters and a brother, he’s got one brother and three sisters.

I really didn’t mean for this to be as long as it ended up being, I promise.


PS- Mom, I'm sorry for the title. I DO know that it's incorrect to say "Me and Jon".

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Company!

Corinne flew in to Phoenix on Friday and took a shuttle down to Tucson. I picked her up from the drop-off at about three, and I took Monday off, so we had half of Friday, all of Saturday, all of Sunday, and all of Monday to just do whatever we felt like doing. This included:

A) Eating at El Charro, that one place where weird things always seem to happen to us (sodas refilled halfway, confused old men hanging out in the women’s restroom, etc). Corinne declared that her trip wouldn’t be complete without a funny story to go along with her El Charro experience, and she wasn’t let down. First of all, she ordered chicken tacos and was given shrimp, then when she mentioned it, the waitress argued with her about it for about thirty seconds. “You said shrimp. No…you said shrimp. No..I could have SWORN you said shrimp, but whatever.” But what goes around comes around, because later on when she took my dish, she inadvertently smushed her thumb into some guacamole, then somehow wiped it all over her neck while reciting our options for dessert. It. Was. AWESOME.

B) A spin class on Friday night. Corinne has been taking classes religiously for five months, and thought I would enjoy it. She was wrong.

C) Going to the Arizona Sonoran Desert Museum, which is actually more of a zoo/botanical garden.

D) Eating at my favorite restaurant, Guadalajara Grill. We sat near a table with this mother and son that looked IDENTICAL – the mom was oldish, with the coarsest, curliest mop on her head you’ve ever seen, and the only difference between her and her son was that his hair was slightly shorter. According to Corinne, “That mother and son look identical, it’s DISGUSTING!” That gave us a good laugh. We’re mean.

E) Going to a freaky yoga class on Monday. The instructor began by telling us she felt a disturbance in the universe, which led directly into a group chant that lasted three minutes longer than I care to remember. She handed out cards with the words for those of us that were new so we could follow along...but I kept my eyes firmly shut through the whole thing.

F) Going to BKs Restaurant and eating Sonoran hotdogs. I posted a picture of them a few months ago and received a really negative response. Corinne refused to try one, but she DID admit that it didn’t look as disgusting as it did in the picture, and that if she liked hot dogs, she thought it might be yummy. SO THERE. You were all too quick to judge.

G) Swimming in our complex pool for about three minutes, laying out on the lawn chairs for twenty minutes, then calling it quits and heading inside. It’s unbelievably hot out. This weekend was the hottest so far (of COURSE that would be when she comes to visit..)

H) Eating steak at Pinnacle Peak restaurant – a hokey, Western, cut-off-your-tie-and-hang-it-from-the-rafters type of a place with an authentic John Wayne costume behind glass in the lobby. Our waiter looked like Kyle. At least, it was funny to think that he did.

Anyway, it was a great weekend that ended way too soon. She flew up to Idaho Falls yesterday morning to spend a week with Annie and my parents, and come tomorrow, I’ll be all alone again. Jon’s got breasts that need augmenting in LA. He may never be satisfied with me ever again.

Good Old G-Dub

I spent a good half-hour on Slate today reading “Bushisms”. I laughed out loud to myself, and collected my favorites. Then, I got to the bottom and realized there were at least 12 more pages of them. I’ll have to pick up again some other time. In the meantime, here’s a little taste.

"My job is a job to make decisions. I'm a decision—if the job description were, what do you do—it's decision maker."—Tipp City, Ohio, April 19, 2007

"Will the highways on the Internet become more few?"—Concord, N.H., Jan. 29, 2000

"We're concerned about AIDS inside our White House—make no mistake about it."—Washington, D.C., Feb. 7, 2001

"I'll be long gone before some smart person ever figures out what happened inside this Oval Office."—Washington, D.C., May 12, 2008

"We want people owning their home—we want people owning a businesses."—Washington, D.C., April 18, 2008

"And so the fact that they purchased the machine meant somebody had to make the machine. And when somebody makes a machine, it means there's jobs at the machine-making place."—visiting the Silverado Cable Co., Mesa, Ariz., May 27, 2008

"I can press when there needs to be pressed; I can hold hands when there needs to be—hold hands."—on how he can contribute to the Middle East peace process, Washington, D.C., Jan. 4, 2008

"All I can tell you is when the governor calls, I answer his phone."—San Diego, Calif., Oct. 25, 2007

"This foreign policy stuff is a little frustrating."—as quoted by the New York Daily News, April 23, 2002

"I got a lot of Ph.D.-types and smart people around me who come into the Oval Office and say, 'Mr. President, here's what's on my mind.' And I listen carefully to their advice. But having gathered the device, I decide, you know, I say, 'This is what we're going to do.' "— Lancaster, Pa., Oct. 3, 2007

And my personal favorite, though it’s hard to choose…

"I'm looking forward to a good night's sleep on the soil of a friend."—On the prospect of visiting Denmark, Washington D.C., June 29, 2005

I’ve got a couple more posts that will go up in the next couple of days, so keep checking back.

Thursday, June 05, 2008

Random Accusation of the Day

At least three different people at my work have taken the time to tell me how delicious Trader Joe’s stuffed bell peppers are, so today on my lunch break I decided I’d swing by and grab some. After trolling the prepared foods section, though, I couldn’t find what I was looking for, so I asked an employee where I could find them. He looked at me like I was crazy, then walked over and asked another employee, who ended up being just as confused as the first guy. The second guy pointed us back in the direction of the prepared foods section, and by this point, almost every single inhabitant of the local nursing home had been dropped off for some grocery shopping, and they were all conglomerated directly between us and the refrigerators. After asking me one last time what it was I was looking for, the employee left me behind and disappeared into the mass of shuffling octogenarians to check out the situation. He emerged a few moments later, pepper-less, and with a suspicious look on his face. You won’t believe what happened next. This man had the gall..the GALL to demand of me, “Is this all just a college prank?” (CUE OLD PEOPLE) Within a split second, fifteen grumpy, wrinkled faces turned at me, expecting a reply. A million things went through my mind. What could I say? Why did they hate me? How could I convince them that I wasn’t just some punk? Why were they so old? I finally started with, “What?! No…no, I promise”, which led directly into “you see, at least three different people at my work have taken the time to tell me how delicious Trader Joe’s stuffed bell peppers are…”. Which must have calmed the angry masses, because the tension lessened and a couple of them meandered away. One old lady actually smiled and winked on her way past. ( I love people that wink. I’d wink more often, if it didn’t make me look so dumb. I can only wink my right eye, and even then, it’s not a quick, flitting motion like a wink should be. Instead of closing my eyelid, I have to scrunch up my cheek to MEET my eyelid. It takes more effort than it should, and I mostly just look stupid when I try it.) Anyway. So now for the exciting conclusion. After consulting the computer and three, count them, THREE more employees, it was determined that they were fresh out of stuffed bell peppers, but that a shipment of them will be in tomorrow morning.

The end.

But not really, because I have one more thing to add. My sister Corinne is going to be here tomorrow! Hooray for family!

Tuesday, June 03, 2008

Mixin' It Up

My brother-in-law Kyle landed a sweet career a few years back with PC Magazine. He majored in journalism, and is kind of a techie, so this job is just perfect for him...he gets to try out all sorts of new technology-related stuff, and then he writes about it. For example, when Playstation Rock Band came out, it was his JOB to play it for hours, and then write a review. The downside, though, is that every person that has some stupid website or product that wants recognition comes crawling out of the woodwork and contacts him, hoping he’ll think it’s AMAZING and push for it to go on the front page of the website, or something. I’m sure he just ignores 99% of these requests, but every once in a while one comes along that’s too lame for words, and he passes them along for the enjoyment of others. Case-in-point: A few months back, he received an email from some crazy person promoting hairmixer.com. They really, truly thought that it was some amazing, revolutionary technology worthy of a write-up in the magazine, and I presume that they were kind of hoping that Kyle wouldn’t be able to stop himself from running around the office, screaming “HOLD THE PRESSES!!!” the second he checked it out. See, how it works is, you load your own picture, then you can either load ANOTHER picture, or choose from one of the ones they’ve got available, then you switch the faces. So you can try any celebrity hairstyle on your own face. As long as your face in your image is the exact same size as the face in the other image. Anyway, so as lame and trivial as this website seemed those few months back when Kyle first sent me the link, I was forced to think of it again just recently. I’m thinking about doing something different with my hair, you see, and I was sitting there just thinking “I really wish there was a way that I could SEE what I would look like with bangs before actually doing it.” Yes, BANGS. I’ve been looking at lots of pictures and figuring out what I do and don’t like. I DO like “piecy, blended bangs” on certain people. I DON’T like “huge, comb-half-your-hair-forward-and-snip-straight-across-then-curl bangs” on…myself.



So I had kind of a dilemma, until the Spirit whispered to me “hairmixerrrrrr.commmmm”. I put my own picture up, found some pretty Reese Witherspoon hair, and away we go.



The problem with this is that my hair would NEVER look that amazing. Plus, those are (mostly) HER perfectly arched eyebrows, not mine. So it’s hard to judge.

Okay. So, maybe instead of getting bangs, I want to go dark again. Last time I went brown, it was more of an auburn, which was pretty, but I’m thinking maybe something even darker.



This one is hard to judge, too, because that is NOT my body, and it creeps me out. Plus, there are some red streaks in there I don’t appreciate. But you can kind of get the picture. Too dark? Probably.

Okay. And now, I’m going to blow your mind. Am I brave enough to go dark AND get piecy, blended bangs AT THE SAME TIME? I’m not sure…maybe not all at the same time…but I AM thinking about it. I couldn’t find any pictures that worked with my face on this one, but just think about it.

IN CONCLUSION, I’m leaving you with this little gem from hairmixer.com – the lovechild of Hilary Clinton and myself.

(Scroll down.)





































(Down.)








































(Down.)












































(Wait for it...)