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.”)

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 22^nd, because the 21^st 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".

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.

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!

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.

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(Wait for it...)

So You Think You Can Dance, dance, dance...

SO excited for this season of So You Think You Can Dance. But first - weren't there supposed to be Salt Lake City auditions last night? I'm confused. I'm also confused as to why Cat Deeley is the host. Still.

What a face.



Lovely smile.

Special shout-out to our DVR. Without it, these pictures would never have been possible.

Anyway, the new search for America's Favorite Dancer is on, and for the next couple of months, I get to tune in twice a week and feel the physical pain that comes with watching amazing dancers and wishing I could move like them. As it is, my dance experience is limited strictly to a year on the Douglas High School dance team, "Danceline" (11th grade), and an hour-and-a-half jazz class every other day my senior year. Oh, and I was in a musical theater class in 10th grade, but I don't count that, because A) it was gay, and B) the teacher was really ugly and always talked about her womanly cycle. I did wear a glittery top hat and dance in a chorus line to "One" in front of an audience of about fifteen parents, though. Yes, 10th grade. Not kindergarten.

Anyway - Danceline. So, I decided I wanted to try out despite the fact that, other than 'fake-dancing' around my house for 80% of my life, I really had no clue how to move. But it wasn't for lack of soliciting my mom to put me in classes. Anyway, I ended up trying out and actually making it...I'm convinced though, that it was mostly because of the fact that the girl I got teamed up with for the audition was a really awful dancer (completely clueless, and..just...really terrible), so I automatically looked good by comparison. Either way, I made the team, and I've got a picture to prove it.

Here we are at a game, dancing a hip-hop number to "Jenny From the Block".



(That's me in the red circle. Luckily we're in our "modest" outfits here. We alternated between this outfit and another - and you should have SEEN how short the skirts were. I actually got in trouble for wearing tiny little black boy-short briefs underneath it to conceal what the leotard didn't. You could SEE the boy shorts, even when I wasn't dancing. THAT'S how short the skirt was.)

Why are half of us on the next move? Group A...



And Group B. Hm. Maybe we needed more practice.

And here's Heather.



She was HUGE. Seriously, like twelve feet tall, and SO heavy on her feet. The entire floor moved when she danced, I'm not even exaggerating - you could FEEL Heather dancing through the floor. She was a total Amazon, and really ungraceful, which was kind of too bad, because she'd been dancing for like ten years by this point. But I couldn't feel too sorry for her lack of grace, because she was really really mean to everyone on the team. No one ever wanted to be around her, and what goes around comes around, because at a performance later in the season, Heather hit the ground. She had been walking - LITERALLY walking across the floor during an 8 count, when she rolled her ankle, and all I remember was feeling the reverberations throughout my toes when she splatted face-down on the basketball court. We danced around her for a few moments until she pulled herself up and hobbled away. And the best part is that she really, actually, truly had hurt herself. She was off the team and on crutches for two months. Oh my. I might be going to hell, but this story brings me so much joy. She was such a mean person.

Anyway, I survived the basketball season and earned my letter, which has been sitting in a hat box in my closet ever since.


Every once in a while, when I'm searching for ugly pictures of myself, I come across it. And I become instantly grateful that I didn't buy a letterman's jacket JUST because I technically "lettered" in an extra-curricular activity. Some of the girls on the team did, but I would have felt stupid wearing a jacket with ONE letter on it, and no other decorations whatsoever. Plus, those things are expensive.

Abrupt change of subject - Jon's still in Madeira (til Sunday night) and I've got this weekend to myself. Again. And beyond laundry and dishes, I've got no clue what I'm going to do. He's been entertaining me with his stories from this trip, though. Apparently, his luggage with ALL of his display items is stuck at customs in Lisbon until MONDAY, because it was mislabeled. Luckily he carried all his brochures and paperwork and everything with him on the airplane, so he can still somewhat function, but he's been on the phone pretty much nonstop with his shipping department, trying to get this thing figured out. Something I learned two days ago - there's a branch of the US Embassy that you can solicit for help if your stuff gets confiscated like this, so Jon hit them up. But the conversation only lasted a few seconds.

Them: US Embassy...
Jon: I need help getting some stuff released from customs.
Them: Are you a US citizen?
Jon: .........sort of.........

He had to get someone else from his office to give them a call after that, and it must not have panned out all too well, since he's not going to be receiving his luggage in time for his convention.

Just another one of those stories that Jon would put on his own blog, if he had one.

Okay, I really need to wrap this thing up. Have a great weekend! Come visit me in Tucson if you want.

Recent Read

You know how some people hate something just because it’s popular? They won’t give a certain movie, or a book, or an idea a chance, just because everyone else in America likes it, and they think Americans are stupid? They go against the grain, just because they don’t trust the overall opinion of the public? So instead of reading that book to see for themselves, they just automatically assume that because it’s popular, it must be dumb?

I’ve never considered myself to be one of those people. Which explains how I ended up wasting $10.99, and three hours of my life on “Twilight”. It all started in the Salt Lake City airport. My book options were limited to five harlequin romance novels, Atonement (which was about ten pages thick), and Twilight. And now, having read the entire thing from cover to cover, including the author’s biography on the back, I can make the informed conclusion that this book was absolutely ridiculous. #1 New York Times Bestseller? Come on, people. Seriously. Come on.

I was embarrassed just to OWN this book, let alone be seen reading it. I kept it hidden from view at all times. I didn’t even put it up on my Facebook bookshelf, because I didn’t want anyone to know my dirty little secret. Was it mildly entertaining? Sure…as much as any other juvenile fiction story is, I guess. It’s a book about vampires written for tweens – NOTHING MORE. If I hear one more person claiming that Stephanie Meyer is an AMAZING WRITER I might just jump through a window. It’s obvious that even Mrs. Meyer herself is aware that she’s not a great writer. For example (and I can’t guarantee that I’m not going to give any plot details away): Bella (even her NAME sounds contrived) meets her Vampire Boyfriend’s family for the first time. Vampire Father, Carlisle, is a doctor, and he’s hundreds of years old. The group is on the verge of discussing his vampirey past when he gets called in to work. Stephanie cuts in here to say “It was a strange combination to absorb – the everyday concerns of the town doctor stuck in the middle of a discussion about his early days in seventeenth-century London.” Um, thanks Captain Obvious. I feel dumber now that you took it upon yourself to explain that to me.

Oh, and there’s a scene where Bella and her Vampire Boyfriend are laying in the sun (he turns glittery in the sun, how pretty!), and he gets all mad for some reason, and turns into a crazy person, and shows her how dangerous he is by (I kid you not) running around the entire meadow in a half-second, and breaking off a two foot thick branch and throwing it so hard that the entire thing splinters into a million pieces. Or something like that. Oh. My. Goodness.

Anyway, I’m done talking about this book. I feel like I’m wasting my life away thinking about it. America’s collective IQ has dropped ever since it hit the bestseller’s list, and I’m ashamed that I played a part in it. BUT JUST IN CONCLUSION – I NEVER want to hear the phrase “Edward chuckled” ever again for as long as I live. I wish I could do a “control+f” command in real life, and count how many times it comes up in that book. I lost count after 500. Her rights to the word “chuckle” (and all of its variants) have been revoked. And I hope she’s improved her vocabulary in the second and third books, but thankfully…I’ll never know.

PS- Just my opinion.

Weekend Update

So I called 911 on Friday on my way home from work. Some guy in a Honda Civic was seriously high and I kept on ending up right next to him as he did crazy things - driving southbound in the northbound lane, turning sideways across three lanes of traffic with his blinker on... anyway, as soon as I got a plate number, I called him in. Just doing my part to keep Tucson roads safe. I wasn't sure at first if you can call 911 for that sort of thing, but I didn't have the TPD on speed dial in my phone, so I went for it anyway.

Friday night we went and saw Indiana Jones, which was awesome, in my opinion. Totally worth going to see in theaters. Sure, it was mostly unbelievable, and there was some stupid stuff thrown in, but in terms of entertainment, it was great. I felt like I was on the Disneyland ride the entire time. I loved that it wasn't a lame "sequel" movie that just relies on the elements of the other movies..it was actually an Indiana Jones movie that even LOOKED like it came out just a few years after the other ones. And they mention the past in the new film, but I only counted one single little reused line, and I gave them a lot of credit for that. For actually coming up with something to ADD to the genre, not just borrowing from the others. I know that reviews have been very, very mixed for this movie, but I'm one of the fans.

Um...then other than that...this weekend has been pretty lame. I got a new dress on Friday, and a fancy new flat iron on Saturday (the infrared, ionic kind, and it's AMAZING, just for the record..). Jon got his hair cut yesterday (Cost Cutters! We tried Supercuts first, but the line was almost out the door. I was actually a little disappointed that we didn't get in there, though, because that would have been so much radder. I would have sent text messages to every single Cottrell girl, if it had panned out...). Anyway, he's currently packing for his trip to Madeira. He leaves tomorrow, how lame is that?? The first three day weekend of the year, and he's not even around. And I haven't even thought about what I'm going to do tomorrow. Maybe a movie? By myself? Is that really sad? I've braved eating at nice restaurants alone, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to take the movie theater challenge just yet. I'll let you know.

Jessie’s Laws of Sacrament Meeting

1. If your kid's toy falls at my feet more than twice, it will stay there.

2. Typos in the program will be circled.

3. If you have to squeeze past me to an available seat, your crotch points AWAY from my face. I realize that the alternative isn't lovely either, but at least that way we won’t accidentally make eye contact. This applies to movie theaters, as well.

4. Any expectations you have of me shouting "Alooooo-ha!" at you the Fast and Testimony meeting following your Hawaiian vacation will not be met. Additionally, I will not close my eyes if you ask me to, and no, I will not stand up and turn in place on your command (true story. I don't think I've ever glared so hard at someone in my entire life).

5. I will roll my eyes at any returned missionaries that pretend like they’ve forgotten how to speak basic English. And for the record – when you're back in the States, please pronounce your mission so we can all understand. Here in the US, "Chile" is pronounced "Chill-E", not "Shee-lay." I met a girl once that told me she served her mission in "oo-roo-guywyayyYYYY" and I asked her to repeat it TWO MORE TIMES before figuring out she was saying "Uruguay." I specifically asked Jon while we were dating if he EVER said "Bruxelles" while in North America, and could not have been more relieved with his answer.

6. Sorry, but if you stand up in front of everyone and mispronounce the hymn name, I'll probably be the most entertained out of the whole congregation. Case in point – my old bishop stood up the week before Christmas to introduce the intermediate hymn, "With Wandering Eye." And even better, the 2nd Counselor in our ward in Rexburg announced that next, we'd be singing "Upon the Cross of Calgary." I snickered, then laughed, and then it turned into one of those irreverent laughs where all you can do it hunch over and hope the speaker doesn't notice you shaking and wiping your eyes.

7. Sorry again, but if you stink, I will move. Jon and I had to leave a packed Sacrament meeting and sit in the hall when the guy that came in late and sat right next to us smelled just like pot roast. Jon sat up a little straighter, looked around, then leaned over to me and whispered, "Smells like dinner." After one of those irreverent laughs, we collected our stuff and headed out to the foyer.

8. Musical numbers are limited to HYMNS out of the hymnbook ONLY. I realize this eliminates lots of other good music, but this is the only surefire way to prevent me from ever having to endure another wavery-voiced teenage girl tackling "His Hands" during Sacrament meeting.

Mass Confusion

This weekend was spent at the movie theater, at the mall, at church, and at our apartment. On Saturday we caught a matinee of Prince Caspian, which was okay, but was inexplicably given the most questionable PG rating ever given since the 80s. In no particular order, and without giving away any spoilers, here’s a list of some of the things an entire theater full of children were subjected to.

1) Lots of throat slitting
2) Very noisy childbirth
3) A minotaur death by crushing
4) A crunching noise as a dislocated shoulder is reset
5) Multiple slaughters – in one, an entire group is trapped behind a gate and we watch their faces as they’re dying; and
6) A decapitation – we even get to see the head lying next to the body

Anyway, the movie is mostly bloodless, so I guess that’s how Disney squeaked past with the PG rating, and I’m not personally offended by any of it…but it definitely goes to show the flaws in the rating system. I wouldn’t take my 5 year old to see it (if I had one...). Check out this link to Eric Snider’s thoughts on the issue.

But even more ridiculous than the rating was the man sitting next to us. We opted to sit in the very back to minimize our contact with unruly children, only to realize we’d chosen to sit next to a man ten times worse than any ragamuffin child in that theater. He was your typical, annoying, movie-going buffoon. He laughed out loud during the preview for “Beverly Hills Chihuahua”. He noisily and inaccurately predicted the twists and turns of the plotline, and felt it necessary to repeat each joke out loud (sometimes several times). I guess he thought the actors’ inflection was off, or that he could do it better, or that it would be funnier when he said it, or something. He was a real cartoon.

After the movie we shopped for a while in the mall – Jon bought two pairs of jeans, which means he has to throw away two pairs of jeans. He hangs on to more clothes than any human, so I make him throw some away each time he adds more. He threw away a pair of ten year old Wranglers the other day, but not before squeezing into them and parading around the apartment for a few minutes. I have never been less attracted to my husband. He physically injured himself, too. The tightness of the high waist strained a muscle or something. Ew.

After shopping, we went to eat at El Charro – a yummy Mexican place that we really like, despite the weird service we always get there. Well. So. I had to use the restroom, so I made my way to the back, where I was confronted with two options for doors. Upon initial examination, each of the bathroom signs appeared to be the same, but when I looked closer at the one to the right, I could tell that the conquistador silhouette appeared to be slightly more feminine than the one on the left. Looking closely at the words on each, I realized one said “Charros”, and the other said “Charras” (although at first glance it was almost impossible to tell, since the defining letters had been transformed into logos for the restaurant). Anyway, so after taking several moments to make my choice, I swung open the “Charras” door, only to nearly flatten the old man who was inside, carefully washing his hands. You can imagine how quickly I spun around and walked out, and after taking one last sideways glance at the confusing door signs, I headed back to my table unrelieved. The waitress saw the look on my face when I sat down and asked if everything was okay. So I tried to brush it off, and just told her I was confused by the bathroom signs… but she practically carried me back to the scene of the crime to explain to me the anatomical differences between men and women. “See this image here? This is a lady” (she outlines the curves with her finger). We had passed the confused old man on our way there (now wandering aimlessly down the hallway) so I lowered my voice and told her the real story. She reacted just how I’d hoped she would, too. Just the right amount of shock, near-laughter, and deep sympathy. (“Oh no!! Oh, poor little dear. He must have gotten confused…”) And yes, I’ll never be able to forgive myself for not taking pictures of the bathroom signs. How much easier this entire thing would have been to explain if I’d have only remembered. We were halfway home by the time I realized my mistake, and I let out a blood-curdling gasp. The kind that almost makes Jon drive right off the road. Anyway, I’ll take the pictures next time we’re in the vicinity of that restaurant. I’m just mad they couldn’t have been included in this original post.

…And all the time in-between these events was spent watching the second season of Friday Night Lights. Such a good series. How come you’re not watching it? You really should be. Ready, go.

Surprise!

I made my mom cry on Friday night when I showed up in Salt Lake City for Mother’s Day. She’s down there for a few days taking care of my grandpa while my grandma is exploring Europe, and I decided a couple of weeks ago that I wanted to pay a surprise visit. Annie picked me up from the airport at about 8:45 in the evening on Friday, and 20 minutes later I was bouncing towards my mom, who had had no idea I would be there (amazingly, considering the amount of people that knew about it once The General caught wind.)

I only got to spend about a day and a half there, since I can’t take any more work off for a while, but it was definitely worth it. On Saturday, we woke up bright and early and drove up to Heber (AKA The Most Beautiful Place in North America…I want five homes there), ate breakfast at a fun local spot called The Hub, then dropped by Annie’s cute townhouse briefly while she gathered her work gear. She trains horses at an amazing dressage facility, and we got to go watch her in action. My mom brought her new horse down with her for the weekend, and after her lessons for the day, Annie spent some time working with my mom and Sky in a round pen. Sky’s only four and still growing into herself, but she’s absolutely beautiful when she gets to moving well. So that was fun. During Annie’s lessons, my mom and I went on a drive through the area. My mom got a couple of things at a cute market, and we stopped at “The Crater”..this creepy 80-foot-deep geothermic pool inside of a weird round cave-like hole. After Annie was done for the day, we went and got gelato at a resort there in Heber (mmmm, red orange…mmmm) then went and dropped Annie off at her house to shower and change. My mom and I went to the grocery store for a few things, then picked her up to go back to Salt Lake. We made up a quick dinner for my grandpa, then headed out to Spoon Me, a Pinkberry rip-off (but almost equally as good. And if you’re keeping track, that’s TWO ice cream stops in a row. Gelato, then frozen yogurt.). Last Christmas at Spoon Me was when my own mother accidentally called me “Jerry”, which has become one of the biggest family jokes of all time. Annie made me laugh until I cried and my abs burned when she quietly mentioned that one of her “rasjerries” had dirt on it. Yep. Still laughing. After that we headed to a restaurant called Epic for dinner. Last Christmas, Corinne, Kyle, Jon, and I went there and had a waiter named “Klutt”, and would you believe it, we had the same poor soul THIS time around, too! I’d told Annie and my mom about the waiter named Klutt before we got there, so when he first came and introduced himself, we had try hard to control our faces. I got a delicious salmon, Annie got pork medallions, and my mom got a yummy pasta. Then for dessert, we shared a mascarpone cheesecake that was one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.

Sunday was less eventful but still fun. We took a walk in the morning, then prepared for a special Mother’s Day dinner with my Aunt Marin, and Cousins Sarah, Rob, Ellie, and Brandon. My flight left at 7, so I had to leave the gathering at about 5, and I didn’t get back into Tucson until 11.

On a sadder note, my parents decided this weekend to put our sweet little dog Scout to sleep. My junior year of high school, someone abandoned two puppies in the yard of a vacant house across the street from us, so we went and collected them and kept them in our dog run for a few days, looking for someone to adopt them. My mom declared we couldn’t possibly keep either of them, but when I took Scout into the house and she curled up on my mom’s lap, it was all over. She was the sweetest little dog for about two years, and then she started to go weird. She became snappish and mean with strangers and other dogs. She sent my dad’s old lab Cricket to the vet more than once for stitches. I had to quit doing agility training with her because she was so hostile (it was sad, too, because she was really good at it). With the addition of little Gunner to my parent’s pack, she completely lost her mind, quit eating, viciously tried to bite a little boy, and tried to murder the new puppy TWICE. Anyway, here are my fondest memories of Scout - the meanest, sweetest little dog I ever knew.

1.) Giving her piggybacks around the house.


2.) Thinking back on her dragging my cousin Meg down the road. I wasn't actually there, but I'm pretty sure the way I imagine it is at least as good, if not better, than the actual event. Apparently, 8-year-old Meg was afraid that if she let go of the leash, she'd be in trouble, so the poor kid hung on as long as she could, and returned from her walk all scraped up. What a little champion.

3.) Jon's account of Scout backing up into the living room (beep, beep, beep), peeing on the floor in front of him and my extended family, then running out.

4.) Rhyming her name with funny words to see if she'll still come running when you call them out. My personal favorites: Flout, Trout, and Gout. Worked every time.

5.) Scout falling over and squealing every time my brother-in-law Steve reached out to pet her. And then hearing his comparisons of her to his perfect childhood dog, Remy. "Remy never squealed when I tried to pet him..."

Anyway, so poor little Scout caused one too many problems and was a huge liability, so my mom made the choice to put her down. And all dogs go to heaven, despite whatever Jon tries to tell you. It's in the scriptures for crying out loud.

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ALERT- I'm putting this tangent in at the very end, because I couldn't quite seem to fit it in above. When Annie and I were planning where to meet out on the curb at the SLC airport, I couldn't help but remember of one of the single-most funniest moments of the entire past year. I had completely forgotten about it until a few days ago, but here you go. Just this past Christmas, we all gathered in Salt Lake City, but Kyle, Corinne's husband, had a conflicting schedule (I can't remember why) so he ended up flying in a couple of days after the rest of us, so Jon, Corinne, Annie, and I all piled into the grey Impala that we had rented and headed off together to pick him up. When we got there, Corinne spotted him right away, waiting in the center median, so we pulled over to the right, and slightly behind him while Corinne dialed his cell number to let him know where to look for us.

Corinne: Hey, we're behind you in a grey Impala.
Kyle: [looking everywhere except at us] Oh, okay, I can see you.
Corinne: No, you don't, you're not even looking at us.
Kyle: I can SEE you, you're right over there! [begins to move quickly towards other grey Impala with arm outstretched]

Jon: He's going to get in the wrong car!!!!
Jessie: [inhuman screech] NOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOoooOOOooooo!!!!

I don't know what came over me. I was seriously panicked at the thought of Kyle getting in the wrong car. Anyway, we all laughed for an hour over the entire thing, and I know it's really random, but I had to put it somewhere, and I couldn't make it fit anywhere else.

Hope your Mother's Day was awesome.

New Acquaintance

On April 15, 2008, I had an encounter with A_ _ _ Cook. I was on the phone when he first walked into the office, and he casually made his way to my desk. Out of my corner vision, I saw that he was about 5’11 and had greezy long blonde hair. He smelled a little like a mix between Fritos and old, damp snow pants. Once I was finished with my phone call, I smiled up at him and asked what the heck he was doing in my lobby. Not really. I smiled up at him and asked if I could help him with anything. He responded by procuring a HUGE portfolio, which he had somehow snuck in undetected, and asked if we’re in the market for any art. Oh great. And I’m way too nice of a person, because for the next five minutes I got bombarded with picture after picture, until I finally started ignoring him as he was trying to shove more under my nose. They all looked like a ten year old had drawn them. He then proceeded to explain to me that he teaches music lessons, as well, in case anyone in the office might be interested. Then he handed me his card.

He has obviously used the Grand Canyon as a backdrop for combining his passions for both music and art. I love the list on the “Musician” side.

Piano, Percussion, Flute, Sax, Trumpet, Teacher

“One of these things is not like the other”…anyway, my favorite part about the entire illustration?? The fact that the little doodle of himself he’s made out of his last name actually bears very strong resemblance. Way to go, A_ _ _ _. Way to go.

Before he left, he asked me with a hint of desperation if I knew of a nearby tax company . I told him I was sorry, but no, I didn’t know of any. After angrily muttering a few moments about having to file despite the fact that he made under $9,000 last year, he was on his way, leaving me with his card, his lingering scent, and a few precious memories.

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Edited to Add: I originally had written out his entire name in this post, but then when I googled "A_ _ _ Cook Artist Tucson", my blog came up FIRST out of over 40,000 webpages!!! It kind of made me feel important, but it made me feel a little nervous, too, because who doesn't google themselves every once in a while? I'm sure my friend is no different. That's why I disguised his name.

Also, it has recently come to my attention that maybe my blog came up first out of all the other webpages because google knows that I spend a lot of time on my blog, and correctly guessed that that's the page I was looking for. Either way, better safe than sorry, right?

Saturday is a Special Day

Jon left yesterday for San Diego. This is his first trip in weeks, so I guess I can't complain too much. Actually, I can, because his May schedule is ridiculous. He's back from San Diego for a day before he leaves for Manhattan, then he's back from Manhattan for a day before he leaves for Albuquerque, then there's a possibility that he might be going BACK to Manhattan before his trip to Madeira, Portugal. Which isn't really in Portugal, it's just an island owned by Portugal. This is all before the end of the month, mind you, and it's still up in the air if he's going to be flying to Russia straight from Madeira, if he's going to be coming back to the USA and THEN flying to Russia the next day, or if he's not even going to Russia at all. How come he's home for so long with no traveling, and then all of a sudden, he's pretty much never going to be home ever again? Someone needs to sort that out. It's one thing if he travels once or twice a month for a weekend, but another for him to just be gone constantly. Truth be told, I actually kind of look forward to the occasional weekend of alone time. I get a lot more done when he's gone, and I can accomplish a lot in one weekend if he's not here. THIS weekend, however, is not turning out to be one of those. I did NOTHING last night except watch TV, Facebook, and read a few chapters of "Pride and Prejudice". Today was even worse. I did no more than two loads of laundry (still sitting in the front room..I didn't even put it away!), put half the dirty dishes in the dishwasher (still haven't emptied the first load to make room for the second...), got the mail (kind of exciting, actually, I got a $200 check from Chicken Soup for the Soul for an entry I wrote for them when I was in 9th grade), then went and had lunch at a place called Zivaz. Jesus, my ex-coworker, claims it's the best Mexican he's ever had in Tucson, so I figured I'd check it out. Then, I got my hair done by my favorite hairdresser EVER. It was my second time with her and I'll never change as long as I'm in Tucson. I might actually force her to move in with us if/when we DO move. I'm still considering it. Her name is Kashmir, and is it bad that when they told me her name over the phone for the first time, I almost asked for someone else? In my defense, prior to Kashmir, I'd had my hair done (at a different place) by a girl named "Gentle" and it was NOT a great experience. Anyway, then I came home and perused blogs for a while. I'm STILL waiting for an update, Kelsey! It's not like you have better things to do with your time..like taking care of your new baby. And sitting and staring at how adorable she is.

(this is Norah Grace. I want to have five just like her.)

Anyway, out of my extreme boredom came the idea to write a post showcasing recent purchases I've made. So.....here I go. Sorry.

THINGS THAT ARE GOLD
(I guess I have a new addiction)




(I've been wanting a gold pendant for forever..I have no idea why. I just started craving one.)


(Any comments on the length of my toes will be ignored.)

THINGS I CAN WEAR TO CHURCH


(I never know what to do with my arms in pictures...)


(Just look at that print..and the tie...and the shiny trim at the bottom...)


(This is my newest purchase out of them all and I am IN LOVE with this skirt. Keep in mind it doesn't actually look like it's made out of garbage bags in real life. The flash on the old Powershot makes it look like plastic. But it's not. I promise.)

And there you have it, maybe the most pointless post I've ever created. Have a great Sabbath tomorrow, and please keep it holy.