Done and done

My dog sweater turned out more like a dog poncho.

 

I made the over part too wide and the under part not wide enough. Live and learn.

 

 



 

 

My rows. So neat and tidy if I may say so myself. I won't show a picture of the edges. Let's just say it took me about 45 minutes to realize I was doing it wrong, and another 20 minutes to actually figure out how to do it right. By then I was already well into the project and I just went with it. It is a sweater for an animal, after all.

 

She loves it though (she doesn't love it.)

THIS IS HOW YOU SELL STUFF

We had Penny shaved a couple of weeks ago when it was still 110 degrees, but the poor thing's fur isn't growing in fast enough as the cooler temperatures approach, and we don't plan on turning on our heat this winter at all. For these reasons, I went down the rabbit hole of dog sweaters on Etsy.

I've been known to crochet an amigurumi and scallop-edge a burp cloth or two, and the more I looked, the more I thought that maybe, maybe (BIG HUGE MAYBE) I could try making one myself. I ran across this pattern which seemed like the most perfect dog sweater on earth and on a whim messaged the shop owner, a darling lady named Toni, just to see if she thought a semi-beginner could make it. She replied that it was probably a bit too ambitious for me. Long story short, this listing was posted to her shop 36 hours later:

WELL I GUESS I'M MAKING A DOG SWEATER!!! lolololololo oh crap wish me luck.

Poolside

It was in the 70s yesterday!!! And the day before that was the first time since the end of March that I drove to work without the air conditioning on! I don't think we're completely finished with the upper 90s, but the end is in sight. And while I'll always argue that the miserable Phoenix summers are a perfectly fair price to pay for the glorious winters, I can freely admit that the only thing that got me through were these frequent pool days at my aunt and uncle's house. I tried to refrain from the Penny-swimming-zomg-so-cute photostream taking over my blog completely, but now that it's cooling down I'ma go ahead and dump everything today in one fell swoop.

Shake face!!

Jon pointed out that she looks like that terror dog thing in Ghostbusters:

Jon got stung by a bee :( His first time ever, and apparently it hurts REALLY REALLY REALLY BAD NO SERIOUSLY, GUYS, MOST PAINFUL THING EVER.

Also, this:

Happy nightmares! And this:

I consolidated all the best video bits into one minute-and-a-half long montage. IT'S WORTH WATCHING. (If the quality is horrible, try clicking the little gear-looking icon at the bottom and choosing a higher resolution. I can't for the life of me figure out why YouTube doesn't default to the best available quality, but whatever. That'll help a lot. Just kidding, I moved it over to Vimeo.)


Pool Days from Jessie Jensen on Vimeo.

Fun with Screen Capture: Internet Comments Edition!

Like many people, I sometimes go online. Strangers say the darndest things there. I take pictures of conversations, store them all in a folder on my desktop, and forget they ever existed until months later (today) when I go looking for blog fodder. 

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

First, comments on photos in Waterton Lakes National Park's really cool Facebook album of wildlife captured with motion-activated remote cameras:  

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Second, two comments on the YouTube video of the tro-lo-lo-lo-lo guy:

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Last, a conversation about figs. Jon bought a flat at Costco and we had no idea how to go about eating them, so I took to the internets. This website was helpful, and the resulting discussion was sheer delight. There were all of these people, seemingly desperate for information on figs, some asking really stupid questions, and many of them sharing a little too much about themselves along the way. Here are the best ones.

 [SHEESH, Milon, ask your DOCTOR, not the fig lady!!]

Sacking the Tach: Part 4 of ?

See also:
Part 1 of ?
Part 2 of ?
Part 3 of ?
Part 5 of FIVE!!!
Hearpdate
Stuff I Distinctly Remember Saying During the Operation
The last post about my heart (I promise this time)

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

The last I’d broadcasted about my heart was that my surgery was unsuccessful and that the doctor instructed me to continue wearing that awful monitor for another month, which I did despite the blisters and rashes the sticky patches left all over my body.

I exercised and drank lots of caffeine (doctor’s orders, and it was amazing) and watched scary movies and I did finally catch an event, on the very last day of service. I wouldn’t know for another few weeks whether it was enough for the doctor to work off of, though, because the window for my 30-day follow-up appointment fell during my trip to Idaho, and they couldn’t fit me in until a couple of weeks after I got back. I worried myself sick during those several weeks – while I was wearing the monitor, since I had a such limited window to catch a substantial TACH ATTACK!, and in the weeks afterward, wondering if it was going to be enough to prevent the doctor from putting in an implantable long-term device.

The appointment was full of good news! My doctor was really excited by what he’d caught on the monitor. He asked me jokingly, “Why couldn’t you have done this before the FIRST procedure??” He also found a related, underlying condition on my monitor. Nothing scary, just another annoying tachycardia that’s brought on by exercise. That one can’t ever be fixed because it originates too closely to my natural pacemaker, but the takeaway was that THAT was the reason why my first procedure failed. So it was a relief to have some answers, even though the answer was, “The surgery didn’t work because you have another condition, and this one is incurable.” :\

Anyway, long story (involving billing and insurance and me being scared) short, I’m going in again on Friday, November 2nd. Same hospital, same doctor, but this time he’s better equipped with what he needs for a successful surgery. So.

The only tutorial you'll ever need.

I meant to clip my fingernails before I made this, but then I forgot.

Texts out of Context: Episode X

Brief explanation and archives here. Also, I always sorta hope people will catch on and do this on their own blogs, or maybe post their good ones in the comments here, but no one ever does :(

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

This phone only does the boring half of the English language for predictive text.

Brushed my teeth, gagged from brushing my tongue too far back, spit, AND THERE WAS A GNAT IN THE SINK. AND IT CAME FROM MY MOUTH.

I am what I like to call ‘very lol.’

Just saw an effing dementor and forgot my effing patronus #wizardfail

Tarp

[15 seconds later] I meant yarp

Sighted: middle aged man in a red Mercedes convertible, pink Abercrombie shirt tucked into white cargo shorts, metallic Oakleys, running his hand through his grey-dyed-blonde mullet

Wonder if Penny dropping her toy on the tile for three hours is bugging the neighbors

I never have but I sort of have a “don’t eff with me” face

Draper, Utah. Glorious Draper, Utah.

Made some brownies and Penny had dog food

I know a lot about horses like always check your tack and stuff

Does it have balls

This has reached new heights of terrible.

A bear had been there recently but we only saw its scat.

Can I have some of your raisin bran?

I was thinking of sending Penny to get you with a little saddle

Hope your neck meat is okay

I asked [my 2 year old daughter] what your dog’s name is and she said “the orange one?”

Yeah it means there are two eggs and no sperm or one egg and an empty sperm, etc. It looks like a cluster of terrible grapes.

In an empty movie theater and some kid just sat down right next to me. I moved.

Gabababaac. That’s what my phone automatically types when I try to write “haaaaaaaaa.”

Tell me you are not discussing the Nuva ring

Oh no! Stupid Relief Society.

I’m stuck in a car for the next four hours listening to country music full blast.

[four minutes later] I had to listen to “I got friends in low places” just now.

Michigan. And did you see that one chick’s areola??

Yup. The chicken salad was selfish.

[My husband] saw her cover pic and said “the church can’t be true.”

Can you believe the dancing tonight? Nommy eminated.

I’m living in a condo in Provo with 3 other girls and have I got some doozies of stories for you about one of them! I cried one night after she threatened to shave my eyebrows in my sleep! Get excited!

[three minutes later] Well we’re friends, but I’m legitimately terrified of her several times a month. Wait…does that mean we’re not friends?

[three weeks later] My flailing arms while hugging someone hello caused my roommate to throw her piece of pumpkin pie across the room and onto no less than 3 people last night and she has never hated me more.

A conversation, circa 2011

[Another draft post that got buried]

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

Me: LOOK AT THE WALMART EMPLOYEE IN THIS COMMERCIAL!!!! Pretty, perfectly curled long blonde hair...no roots....
Jon: The lady that scanned my groceries today at Walmart had a bandaid across the end of her nose.

A conversation, circa 2010

(I unearthed this gem lurking in my drafts. Hopefully there's some other good stuff in there, too! This happened about two years ago, when we were on Statia.)

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Someone at a birthday party: Okay, we're going to pick teams! Everyone line up! Naomi, you pick first.

Me: A schoolyard pick??? NOOO!!! Those are the WORST, let's just assign teams. [Everyone begins lining up] No seriously, you guys! This makes me so sad! What about the person picked last?? So, so sad. Let's just assign -

Naomi: I choose Jessie.

Me: Really????? First picked, IN YOUR FACE!!!!!!!!!!

The Good Old Days, Episode III

See also:
Episode I
Episode II
Episode IV

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

This installment is in mostly chronological order and it involves a lot of screaming. If you’d known my family back in the day, you’d nod pensively and say, “Yes, of course it does. That makes sense.”


That time 3 year old Corinne began one of her famous public disturbances after my mom refused to buy her nail polish by stamping her foot and shouting, “Ya so mean! You NEVAH buy me any powish!!” (I really, really hate it when people try to spell out kidspeak, btw, and I am so sorry, but this had to be included as is because it’s one of my favorite things in the history of ever.)

How my dad would always hide one of our Easter baskets impossibly hard so that the other kids would be chowing down on candy while the last one was wandering around in circles, screaming.

How my mom purposefully created an irrational fear in her little girls. When we lived in Rexburg, our backyard fence ran parallel to a wide, fast-flowing, child-drowning canal. She would tell us stories about Boogedy, how he lived in the canal and stole children and I don’t know what else. I’m not sure if Corinne was too old to believe it, but Annie and I had no doubt. We were terrified. (I totally agree with my mom’s decision and would do the same, by the way. Kept us alive.)

That time Annie's first bird died when us girls were home alone. Just keeled right over in its cage. My dad walked inside twenty minutes later and "thought Freddie Kruger had been in the house" for all the wailing.

That time there was a tornado. I was at a friend’s 6th birthday party and when the sirens went off, HER MOM DIDN’T EVEN CARE. We just kept playing for several minutes until a concerned neighbor gave a Hagrid-like knock at the door to make sure we’d taken shelter. He was flabbergasted to see the party still in full force (“There’s a tornado coming!!!”) and the birthday kid’s mom was all, “Ooh, is that what the sirens are for?” Now would be a good time to mention that this all took place in KANSAS. He yelled at her to get us kids into the under-stairs shelter, but when she opened the door she really outed herself as an idiot. The entire thing was full of boxes and crafts. We all piled into that guy’s van instead and he drove us to City Hall where we played musical chairs in some dank basement with thinning red carpet. (The tornado completely missed us. Maybe it never even touched down. I can’t remember everything, I was only six.)

How Family Home Evening at our house, the few times my parents ever attempted, always ended up in tears, screaming, and near scripture throwing.

That time my sisters and I were discussing our cousin, who we'd heard was sick, and I suggested, “Maybe he’s having his period.” IN MY DEFENSE, I was like seven, and my mom didn’t tell me about periods until I was like, married. I learned lots of incomplete information from slumber parties.

How we never said “Bless you” when others sneezed (still don’t). As a kid, I assumed it was against our religion. One of my dad’s Army friends came over for dinner when I was about 8 and blessed me when I sneezed. I froze in sheer terror, thinking he’d just done something evil in our home. My dad had to coax me to say, "Thank you,” and I gave that guy the side-eye the rest of the night.

How, when we were living in Alaska, Annie and I behaved like over-tired zombies during the summer despite the fact that my mom was putting us to bed at a reasonable hour. One night she poked her head into the room in the wee hours of the morning and discovered we had pulled back the dark-out curtains and were reading by the light of the sun.

How my sisters used to play mercilessly into my intense fear of bees by routinely screaming, “There’s a bee on you!! It’s crawling into your hair!!! THE BEE IS LAYING EGGS IN YOUR HAIR!!!!!!!!!!! Egg-head, Egg-head!!!!!!!” The ONE TIME I didn’t reward them with the typical, immediate panicked flailing and yelping was the only time that there ACTUALLY was a behemoth bumble bee clinging to the front of my shirt. The panicked reaction times a thousand followed when I finally gave in and glanced down.

How, happily, the Jessie-Bee-Teasing Era ended abruptly when Corinne came tearing out of the house in her nightgown one morning, shrieking that there was a bee in her hair. She must have been partially dreaming. Annie and I searched her permed, unruly tresses and after a few minutes of dutiful probing discovered a long-forgotten bobby pin amongst the mats. No one ever called me Egg-head again.

That time our puppy, Cricket, wandered into the laundry room alone then came out wearing a training bra.

How Annie's third bird quickly learned how to piercingly shriek, "BE QUIET!!"and my personal favorite of its repertoire, "CORINNE!!!!!!!!"

That time my parents had an uncontrollable laughing fit during Sacrament meeting. The speaker was reading “The Night Before Jesus Came,” a terribly written spin off the Christmas poem. When she got to the part about flying to the window, tearing open the shutters, and throwing up the sash, my dad leaned over to my mom and whispered, “That's why I don't eat sash anymore.” I’ve never seen my parents lose control like that before, AND IN CHURCH!! My crying mother hunched over and started furiously reading her scriptures to vainly try to counteract it. The speaker even paused and looked at them bewilderedly.

That time I accidentally hit a stranger with a rock on a beach, went like this :0, then scampered away. I’m not very good at skipping rocks.

That time my mom killed a spider without realizing it was carrying its two million babies on its back. I’ve never heard more bloodcurdling screams from a family member (aside from maybe the hamster haircut incident…and also the next paragraph).

That time I was home alone at night, the phone rang, I answered to two people screaming as though they were being brutally murdered, then the line went dead. Turns out Corinne had called me while on the road with her friend two seconds before they annihilated a raccoon.

How the guy that built our barn in Nevada was this 80-something year old man named Brownie. My mom made him rice krispy treats once, and Annie tried to attack them after school.
Mom: [shooing her away] “No, those are Brownie’s.”
Annie: [confused, suspicious] “………………….No they’re not………………they’re rice krispies.”

That time Corinne pegged our mentally disabled cat right between the eyes with a conversation heart and it didn't even blink.

That time the aforementioned mentally disabled cat pounced on Annie with intent to maim and I caught it in mid-air.

How my dad considers himself to be on a nickname basis with the prophet. My grandma’s brother died a few years ago, and my dad sat next to Thomas S. Monson (pre-prophethood) during the after-funeral luncheon. He has called him Tommy Monson ever since.

3-Day Weekend

My best friend for two years of middle school was Jessie Ward. We eventually slowly drifted apart and by high school barely acknowledged each other in the hallways anymore, but holy crap I loved that girl. One of the cleverest, liveliest people I’ve ever known. During our closest summer, I slept over at her house about five nights a week; the sleepovers were always at her house, because she was a serious swimmer dedicated to early morning workouts. Her dad would drive us to the pool at 6 AM and, for the first few days at least, Jessie would swim laps while I played around in an unused lane. Her swim coach, a hairy 60 something year old man who I could swear was named ‘Skip,’ soon took a liking to me and offered to coach me for free. This is how I ended up unknowingly being coached by a pedophile for an entire summer! Right before school started again, one of Skip’s (was his name Skip?? Or am I generalizing?) concerned previous swimmers tipped me off that he’d been accused of multiple counts of child molestation a few years before. Horrified, I immediately reported what I’d learned to Jessie Ward, fully expecting her to share my same reaction. Instead, she replied defensively, “He was never convicted.”

Thus ended my short career as a swimmer.

I’ve always loved swimming though, and last week when Jon accidentally exploited my minor heart condition to get me a free gym pass, I immediately went and bought a new swimsuit. I’d been OBSESSING during the Olympics over Mexican diver Paola Espinosa’s cobalt blue swimsuit and when I found something on sale ($29!) in the same color, I snatched it up. It wasn’t until a couple of days later that I realized it’s not just similar, IT IS THE EXACT SAME SUIT!! Yay.

Anyway, on to the purpose of this post.

Stuff I did this (long) weekend:

• Paid rent
• Went to IKEA. Listened to Jon sing ABBA on the way to IKEA.
• Bought curtains!!!!!!!!!! Our very first curtains!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We’ve been married over 7 years.
• Made nine cups of Puppy Chow in preparation for a movie night with cousins. They had to cancel :(
• Ate a lot of Puppy Chow
• Ate my first Smashburger
• Went to the outlets. Bought some cheap stuff. Ate an Auntie Anne’s cinnamon and sugar pretzel. Ate frozen yogurt. Ate at Smashburger again.
• SWAM THREE (3) TIMES
• Got water in my ear
• Physically injured my neck in flailing around trying to get the water out of my ear

And a happy belated Labor Day to you.

More Fun with Screen Capture

This time they're mostly from my iPhone. Best trick I ever learned, taking a picture of your screen.


First, Jon's birthday wishes to our friend Addie:

 

 

Second, this: 

 



 

.............Uhhhhh.....incorrect.

 

 

Third, a sketch I drew and texted to Christa by request. Something to do with an old ward member. He was like 7'1", had a wife and three kids, and bought a Mini Cooper during his mid-life crisis. Watching them all get in and out provided endless laughs. This is Curtis all folded up inside, his chin resting on his knees:

 

 

 





 

Fourth, I laughed so hard at this:

"Just like a 'wimpy kid' in middle school, you'll know if you dog is getting bullied if, in social settings like the dog park, it gets frequently mounted..."

 

 

Fifth, this question from Annie (and my answer):

And since this is such a random post, I'll throw a couple of stories on here, too. First, Jon texted me a couple of weeks ago to say that he saw the Pregnant Man in the office complex next to our apartment!! The guy had his baby with him and the baby smiled at Jon! I immediately shared the news on Facebook and got a lackluster response. PREGNANT MAN, PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!! I don't care that he was born female and has a uterus. Best "celebrity" sighting ever, and literally a couple hundred yards from our apartment.

Last, we went to a ward party on Saturday night and sat with these new people and their baby. From an email I sent to Christa: "I look over at Jon and there is a GIANT BEETLE on the collar of his shirt!! So I completely panic - a silent panic, I should add - and without even thinking I flicked it. AND I HAD NO IDEA WHERE IT WENT, but it flew in the general direction of the NEW LADY'S PLATE!! And she was sharing her food with her baby!!! I might have flicked a beetle into a baby's food!! No one suspected anything though, so of course I didn't say anything. Though I kept casting furtive glances at their meal."

kthxbai

Jon joined a gym.

Yesterday. The awesome kind with a pool and a sauna and a steam room and CLASSES and a guy named Chuck and everything. I was slightly jealous, until the following conversation took place:

Jon: Yeah, I’m gonna go every day. You can come with me, too. Chuck’s going to just keep mailing you free month passes.
Me: Huh? Wha? Why?
Jon: ………………………….…………….I told him about your heart.
Me: JONATHAN GLEN JENSEN!!!
Jon: What! I didn’t LIE…
Me: [maniacal laughter]

Fin

GO TO YOUR ROOM AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE

I already shared this on Facebook and Twitter, but I can't see why that should prevent me from putting it on my blog as well.

Bad Dogs Being Publicly Shamed on the Internet

I laughed until I cried, and spent the rest of the workday looking forward to Penny's own MUCH DESERVED public shaming.

The Shining

I’m about done with going to the movies. I couldn’t even tell you the last time I had a pleasant theater experience. There’s always that lady that brings her nearly deaf friend and yells spoilers during the entire movie despite me angrily turning around and demanding, “PLEASE BE QUIET YOU’RE TALKING REALLY LOUD,” and the guy that tries to put his feet on my armrest or right next to my head, and the whisper-screamers (people that think they’re whispering yet somehow the ENTIRE THEATER can hear them), and the parents that let their kid wear shoes that flash every time he violently kicks the back of my chair. People! Why can’t you all just BE NORMAL? How hard is it to sit quietly for two hours without being a total stain??

But worst of all are the movie-texters.

Heads up. If you are in a movie theater with me and the previews have ended and the movie has begun and you pull your cell phone out more than once to check your texts, I WILL say something, because you are an obnoxious, inconsiderate, selfish human being. And no, there is no discreet way to turn your screen on. I promise you that the people around you will see the glow, even if you try to sneak a peek while it’s in your purse. And to those of you who throw discretion out the window and brazenly hold your phone at eye level during the movie...there are just not enough bad things to say about you :)

Don’t worry, though – I always ask politely at first, even though I secretly want to choke the life out of you. The first time I ever nicely asked a stranger through gritted teeth to please turn his phone off, I fully expected to be met with belligerence. Instead, the guy quickly stashed his phone and was overly apologetic, as though he had no idea that the glow of his phone in a dark theater was like the light of a thousand suns.

But sometimes people require a heavier hand. I saw The Dark Knight Rises while in Idaho, and my poor mom got landed sitting next to a serial phone checker. Partway through the movie she finally told him to put his phone away (please), and he did, but then NOT TWO MINUTES LATER he pulled it out again!!!!!1 I leaned across both her and Annie and yelled, “Dude! Put your phone away!!” That, combined with my angry face (it’s quite scary) did the trick. He waved his arms in mock surrender and complied. I was aghast. You shouldn’t even have to be told once!! And did we not both just pay three hundred dollars to see this movie?? I really don't get it.

This weekend, Jon and I saw three movies in theaters. In one, we got up and moved because the sickly 11-year-old kid behind us was vociferously sniffling every 3-6 seconds, ignoring his mom's offers of Kleenex. In the two others, we told people to put their phones away in what turned out to be a couple of my favorite incidents to date.

In the first, I gave the idiot lady next to me a twenty minute grace period into Hunger Games before I finally told her, “Turn your phone off, please.” She looked up, alarmed, confused. I repeated myself. And then.

She replied.

Just wait.

You’re going to die.

She replied:

[defensively]

“It’s on vibrate.”

The last answer on earth I was expecting. No belligerence, no, “screw you, I don’t care,” not even a sheepish look - this was a woman who had never grasped the concept that a bright phone in a dark room is distracting. My response was something along the lines of, “NO, it’s the BRIGHT LIGHT that’s a problem. Your phone is BRIGHT. My eyes…the light…the light…my eyes [sunburst hand motion demonstrating the burning effect of her phone on my eyeballs].” She stashed it.

And the last one. It fills me with glee. During Seeking a Friend for the End of the World, the woman in front of us pulled her phone out every five minutes and held it directly in front of her face. She either ignored me or didn’t hear me when I told her to put it away. Twenty minutes later, Jon piped up and said, in a much nicer tone than I had, “Put your phone away, please.” She froze, slowly lowered her phone into her purse, sat still for a minute, then left the theater and never came back.

I think that means we won.