Shananagins

Thank you Easter Bunny!!!

2010-04-04T20:58:00.000-06:00

Today the Easter Bunny came to my house!!!

Hank wasn't forgotten either:

That Easter Bunny had to be really tricky and really fast because I only slept 2 1/2 hours last night. He must have been scoping out my house all night waiting for me to fall asleep so he could work his bunny magic. Thank you Easter Bunny!

Hoarding

2010-04-03T21:40:00.001-06:00

So, now that I have regular channels on my TV and a DVR, it's a whole new world for me. I get to watch all kinds of stuff now. I share my sattelite access with my landlord. They get to be the boss of what channel package they want to have. Previously they chose the family package. Translation: 500 channels of Disney and Nickeloden and not much else except for local channels. So for the past 22 months, I've spent a lot of time watching the Food Network and National Geographic channels. They happen to come with the family package. There were also several days when the sattelite didn't work at all and so I had nothing. While it may not seem like crappy and/or no TV isn't the end of the world, it really kind of is. I live alone and if it's super-quiet I feel lonely and I get depressed. Then I start to get anxious and basically go bonkers. I've tried the radio but it isn't the same. TV makes me feel like someone is home besides me. Radio doesn't because nobody goes around singing all the time unless they happen to be in a musical. I would really like it if we were in a musical all the time.

That was a very long explaination to get to the point of my blog. The point is that there are a lot of shows I didn't even know existed before. One of those said shows is called "Hoarders." It's about people who, well, hoard. Only not just a little bit. Sometimes after it is all cleaned out the floors have rotted out, leaving a hole, and a condemed house. I am absolutely fascinated by this whole thing. Even though it makes me anxious to see it, I can't look away. It's like trying not to look at a train wreck as you drive by. Impossible. So to add to my current psycho depression and anxiety, I've got hoarding to worry about. How whacked out is it to be anxious about getting an anxiety disorder?

Yesterday I was looking in my closet and decided that it was getting way too squishy. I hardly ever wear a bunch of those clothes. Plus, I bet I have 20 pairs of shoes I need to be done with. Why am I keeping them around? Then I thought about "Hoarders." I bet they only started with something like clothes they couldn't say good bye to. Then it moved on to this:

After that thought it only took me about two seconds to decide to start tossing stuff. I plan on going home after school and start chucking stuff in other rooms. I figure that for my sanity it is better to take the risk that I'll toss something I may need later, than to develop hoarding disease. Which, by the way, is a real illness. They make therapists come on the show and everything so that the hoarding people don't freak out. Plus, also, even when I have thrown things away that I wanted later, while a minor inconvenience, I'm pretty sure I survived without it.

Here's all the stuff I decided that I could live without:

Only maybe not the slippers or Hank. He just likes that chair. This is only the D.I. crap. There was much more that I just chucked. While it doesn't look too much like that other scary photo, I feel better just knowing that I've not started down that slippery hoarding disease slope.

I went through every cubbard, drawer, closet, and storage box in my house. One of the hugie boxes I has was full of photos from the past 20 years. You know, the box that you always say that you will go through all the photos and only keep the ones you really want? I actually went through that box. What I discovered is that the amount of photos I actually need and want is this:

The amount of photos that I don't need is this:

The end.

Holiday Curmudgeon

2010-04-01T14:21:00.001-06:00

Not to be too much of a party pooper, but April Fool's day is one of my 3 least favorite holidays. Mostly because I'm a teacher. The holidays I hate most (in no particular order) are: April Fool's day because how many times can you hear kids say stupid stuff and then yell, "April Fool's!" (in the middle of class, mind you) and not want to kill them? The answer is not very many. St. Patrick's day because they all run around looking for people to pinch and insist on pinching even the ones that are wearing green. (Also in the middle of class.) Finally, Halloween. Only when the day after Halloween is a school day, however. The kids stay up way too late and come to school sleep-deprived and hopped up on sugar.

P.S. For those of you that don't know what a curmudgeon is:
cur·mudg·eon (kr-mjn) n. An ill-tempered person full of resentment and stubborn notions.

Beer, Cigarrete's and Teenage Nudity

2010-03-12T09:07:00.000-07:00

It's Girl Scout cookie time. One of the only bright spots of March in my opinion. I just grabbed a couple of Tag-a-Longs to eat with the Diet Coke I'm forced to have before I go to bed to get rid of my headache. The fact that I have to have a Diet Coke to get rid of my caffeine-deprived body, and the fact that I think I need a couple of cookies to go along with it is a whole other story.

Back to Girl Scouts. As I grabbed my cookies it brought be back to my own Girl Scout days. I grew up in the mountains of North Carolina. That place is practically the opposite of Utah in every way. Not necessarily in a bad way, but it's sure different. I remember when I was about 12 our Girl Scout leader decided to take us on a field trip to Winston Salem. I don't remember exactly how far away that was but maybe two, two and a half hours. It is only now after 16 years of living in the Utah culture that I see how whack that trip really was for a bunch of Girl Scouts.

The first stop on our field trip was Stroh's Beer brewery which was apparently, "the king of beers" before Budweiser was even around. Free beer flowed from the taps for all those that visited the brewery. I learned all about the beer making business. Something that comes in handy for any 12 year old girl. The beer was help yourself as you were leaving the brewery. I remember the leaders keeping a close eye on us to make sure that we only helped ourselves to the Coke products that were also on tap. I think I'll blame my Diet Coke dependency on that day. It sure beats me being responsible for it.

Next stop was the RJ Reynolds tobacco company. Since most of you didn't take NC history in school, I'll tell you that tobacco has been the number one cash crop of NC since NC began. That is a long time since the first colony in the New World was in NC. That's actually probably a well known fact from U.S. History too. I'm guessing that most of you have seen the Camel cigarette icon:

I'm a little proud to say that at the RJ Reynold's headquarters they have a huge statue of that very same camel made from actual tobacco and I had the honor to see it and its tobacco-y goodness. Forrest Gump and his adventures can't top seeing that. So, after learning all about how to make beer, I then learned all about how to make cigarettes, chew, snuff, etc. What better place to learn it than from the largest tobacco company in the world. Incase you were wondering, they didn't have free cigarettes there for us to take on the way out. Only too bad for me and my dreams to become addicted to nicotine.

While those are both very interesting choices of places to take a bunch of 12 year olds, the best is yet to come. We were staying at our leader's sister's house I think. We just pitched a tent in the yard and slept outside. We didn't go to sleep, however, before watching a movie. I think what they picked was the obvious choice--The Blue Lagoon. There's nothing like teenage sex and nudity to top off a day of beer and cigarettes. I hope you can appreciate how I am less redneck than I have any right to be.

Tender Mercies of the Largest Kind

2010-03-03T07:14:00.000-07:00

Yes, I have risen from the dead. I dare say it's a bigger miracle than Lazarus. Maybe that's a little blasphemous, so maybe let it be written that it's just a miracle.

Before I launch into my actual post, on an unrelated side note, maybe Hillyerie shouldn't make fun of me for doing this blog at 6:00 a.m. AT SCHOOL no less, because after all, only crazy people do that.

As another side note, Lynne, I happen to be writing something. Happy, Dear? I don't want to hear another word about it.

I digress. I experienced one of the greatest tender mercies of my life yesterday, and I think it's something I want to share. It's about to get real right here, so hold on to your seats. Actually, this may not be news to most of you that read my blog, as mostly the people I love best are the ones to read it and have knowledge of it on some level.

I've gone to therapy for lo, many years. The reason is because 1. I'm prolly a little bit crazy. (Though I dare say no crazier than pretty much anybody I know.) Mostly it's number 2. I suffer from severe depression. Severe enough that I've been hospitalized for it a few times and have had electroshock therapy. ( I told you that it was about to get real.) Fortunately, for the past couple of years I've been blessed with a period of happiness with no more than some blue days that we all experience from time to time. However, for the past several months, slowly but surely I've been slipping back into that not-so-happy place. Without going into too much detail (because I think that might be a little too real) the reason for my depression is because as a child I experience many years of abuse from more than one person. That tends to jack a child up and literally rewires their brain and the chemicals in it. As a result, anyone with intense trauma of really most any kind suffers from depression and many other issues that come with it on some level. I did my best to pretend that I wasn't slipping and berating myself for not being able to just deal with it and push through until it passed. I consider myself a pretty smart and definitely functioning member of society, so why can't I figure this one out? Only too bad for me, the brain doesn't really care what you want sometimes. It only cares about what needs to happen for it to heal and feel better.

This brings me to the tender mercy part. Probably 5 or 6 years ago I wasn't so functioning. I found myself in the hospital for I believe the 2nd time in as many years. The tricky thing about being in the hospital for depression is that even if you stabilize and begin to feel better, they won't let you out unless you have a therapist lined up to go see when you get out. I didn't have one, and I was more than ready to get out of that place. They gave me a list of possible places to go and a telephone and told me to go to work. I didn't know where to begin. However, my KT friend was friends with a therapist that she loved very much. Since I didn't have any better ideas, I called his office. The receptionist told me that he wasn't accepting new clients, however, they had a wonderful lady named, Erin that was new to their facility and could see me. I told her I'd take what I could get and we set up an appointment. I guess that was really the 1st tender mercy that led to the one I experienced yesterday. Heavenly Father sent me straight to Erin because she was the one who could take me on the painful journey I needed to take in order to heal and move on in my life. She was an angel in my life. I spent the next year and a half doing the most painful, gut-wrenching, but healing work of my life. On the first day that I walked into her office she knew exactly what I needed and didn't waste any time. She also didn't put up with any of my crap because I'd become pretty proficient at avoiding and telling people what I thought they wanted to hear. I loved and trusted her so much and felt so safe and so grateful for her, I would have gone to the ends of the Earth and back if she asked me to. (She never did ask me to go to the ends of the Earth, but she did ask me to go to places that I'd chosen the Earth over any day.) I truly believe that Erin saved me. I don't think I could have stayed here much longer with that kind of pain and hopelessness. Then one day I showed up to her office and she told me that she'd be leaving. My world flipped upside down and inside out. I was devastated. She said she would be gone in a couple of weeks. She needed to take a break from being a therapist for her own reasons. She told me that she didn't know how long that would be. Maybe a year or two. She just didn’t know. I felt the ultimate abandonment and cried pretty much for about 3 weeks after that. Honest and truly there are very few days still that I don't think of her and feel grateful for her. I'd give most anything to see her again and just hug her neck.

Fast forward to a few months ago. I finally realized that it was time for me to go back to therapy and do more work. I'm in a different, much better place now than I was when I met Erin, but the funny thing about trauma is that it keeps cycling back over and over. Each time is less painful and more hopeful because you know that you are getting closer to the time that you will have made your peace with it enough that it doesn't affect your life. I went back to the Family Support and Treatment Center where I'd seen Erin about 4 years ago. They got me in to see Nevin, which was great, but probably not the person I needed. After a couple of months of seeing him I realized that I should probably break up with him and try another therapist that I was more comfortable. Only another tender mercy because he told me that he was leaving and I'd need to get a new therapist. I was a little butt-hurt because I'm not a fan of being abandoned and he was the second one. He even had Erin's old office. I got over that pretty quickly, though. He referred me to a girl named Jessica. She is fantastic. Only you're not going to believe this because on my first meeting with her she told me that she was only going to be there until sometime in April and then she was leaving to go back to Canada. Are you freaking kidding me?! Now I had a huge decision to make. Did I go ahead and see her for the time she was here and have the faith that I could find someone else when she was gone? The catch with this one is that I only have 20 visits a year with my insurance and I'd used most of them on Nevin. I only have about 8 left so when she's gone I'm all tapped out. So that required more faith that the funds would come. Choice number two was to not see her for this time and save my visits for the new person. The flaw with this choice is that I'm pretty sure I'm not okay enough to go that long without someone. Seems like there was a third choice, but it wasn't a very good one and I've forgotten it now. I decided to take the leap of faith and continue to see Jessica although I was scared to death to really get to know and trust her and to pray the funds would show up. So, here's the really good part: Yesterday I showed up to see Jessica and she was fairly shaking with excitement. She said she'd been counting down the minutes until she saw me. I thought that was a little intense, but whatever. She said that she had news for me. (I think you probably know where this is going.) Apparently, Family Support and Treatment Center was rehiring ERIN to replace Jessica and Nevin! Shut Up! Are you even kidding me? I'm pretty sure I squealed in delight and so did Jessica. Heavenly Father loves me so much that he sent the one person back into my life when I needed her most. Can I tell you how glad I am that I took the leap of faith route and decided to stick with Jessica and pray it would all work out? I am absolutely beside myself with joy and feel the most hope I've felt in months. I'm also deeply humbled and grateful for the blessing and tender mercy Heavenly Father saw fit to give to me. I think he must love me best.

Certain Death Averted

2009-12-22T10:20:00.002-07:00

For Christmas this year that Hillyerie girl got me a teeny tiny flat iron. It's name is the Baby Bliss Pro. I needed a teeny tiny flat iron because I have pretty short hair and the flat iron I have is bigger than my hair is long so I keep burning my fingers. That Hillyerie has a nick for gift giving because she pays very close attention all the time to people's ramblings and then gets them the very thing they said in passing they'd like to have. I'm pretty sure that's what happened with me and the flat iron. I took a photo of it to show you just how baby it is in comparison to my regular one:

Something you may or may not know about me is that I'm a "read the instructions" kind of girl. If I don't read them thoroughly, I at least peruse them to make sure I don't miss anything important. So, last night I was washing my face, brushing my teeth, and such in preperation for bed. My Baby Bliss Pro instrucion manual was on the counter and I thought that maybe I'd give it a look see to make sure I knew everything I needed to know about it. I started with the "IMPORTANT SAFETY INSTRUCTIONS" because they are important after all. Boy am I glad I did because apparently I've been taking my life in my own hands by not following these instructions. I've taken the liberty of highlighting a few of the ones that I was the most worried about:

#2. Do not use while bathing or in shower--Now how am I supposed to multi-task to get to school on time if I can't use it while I'm showering, I ask you?
#3. This appliance should not be used by, on, or near children or individuals with certain disabilities--I think I need a clarification on that one. What exact disabilities are they worried about? Siezures, baldness, maybe persons that have had their brain shocked? If I don't know how do I know if I can really use it?
#7. Never use while sleeping--This one is my favorite. I don't think I need to make a snarky comment as it is plenty dumb all by itself.
#9. Do not use outdoors or operate where aerosol (spray) products are being used or where oxygen is being administered--This one causes many problems. First of all, I just had electrical outlets installed in my tent for camping trips where I may need to flat iron. Since I can't use it outside, that was a total waste. Secondly, I'm worried about all of the hairstylist in the world that have to take their clients outside to flat iron their hair because they cannot have it anywhere that has aerosol spray. Only guess what...they can't use it outside either, so they are just plain screwed. And finally, if it cannot be used where oxygen is being used, then all of the poor, catatonic people in the hospitals cannot have cute, flat ironed hair.
#11. This appliance is hot when in use. Do not let eyes or bare skin touch heated surfaces--Only too bad for me because now I can't use it to curl my eyelashes! What the heck am I supposed to do now since my other heated eyelash curler is about to bite the dust?

As you can see, I just averted certain death by reading these "Important Saftey Instructions." I hope this public service announcement goes on to save many lives.

Parson Brown

2009-12-21T14:30:00.001-07:00

I was listening to the radio as I was getting ready for school this morning and they played this jazzy version of "Winter Wonderland." Only maybe I shouldn't admit this because I don't come off looking so smart. Who am I kidding? I'm no intellectual giant anyway. Anyway, they sang the part that says:
In the meadow we can build a snow man.
Then pretend that he is Parson Brown.
He'll say, "Are you married?"
We'll say, "No man, but you can do the job while your in town."
For all of my 34 years I could never figure out what color parson brown was and what that has to do with getting married. Only just this morning did I realized that Parson Brown was not a color but maybe a preacher. In which case him being all nosey about marriage makes all kinds of sense!

Survey

2009-12-13T14:32:00.001-07:00

So, Mary Kay has come out with these new eye kits. It's basically eye shadow for dummies. Depending on your eye color there is a kit with eye colors that are supposed to make your eyes pop. The kit also shows you how to best apply it. I'm not exactly an eye shadow dummy. I know what colors look good and how to apply them. However, I've never really been able to decide what my eye color really is. Sometimes I think maybe they are more blue, but then there are days that they look greenish. Not to mention the days that I'm pretty sure they look hazel. So, I decided to do an experiment. I did the look for each of these colors of eyes and took pictures so that I could see which one looked the very best. I still don't know. They all look similarly great which makes me think that maybe I do have cameleon eyes. Since I'm apparently useless at this I decided I'd put it to a vote. Look at all three and tell me the one you like the very best. I know that there are a few of you that look at my blog but don't comment. Today you must comment because taking a vote doesn't do much good if no one votes.

Look #1

Look #2

Look #3

Christmas Photo of the Day

2009-12-12T22:50:00.003-07:00

The jury is still out on whether he has been too naughty for Santa to actually come to visit him. I think he's buttering the fat man up. Maybe I should start doing a little bit of that myself.

Mouse Babies

2009-12-10T16:23:00.001-07:00

I woke up the other morning and when I opened my bedroom door I found this outside of it:

Hank lined up all of his mouse babies like a choo choo for me. It made me giggle even though it was like 6:00 a.m. Living with Hank is a little bit like living with a 2 year old. Only more convenient because I can leave him for a couple of days with a bowl of food and water and a litter box.

-5 Degrees! ...I'm Just Sayin'.

2009-12-09T10:15:00.004-07:00

Chick's

2009-12-07T18:06:00.006-07:00

On Friday I took a personal day from school. What wonderful event was happening that I'd take a whole day off of school, you ask? Chick's, that's what. My Auntie Kaye sent me an official invitation in the mail asking me if I wanted to go to Chick's and to Midway for a Chistamas boutique. Really, she had me at Chick's. The boutique was just a bonus.

See how cute my anutie and I are? Plus, also, if you ever need to go to Chick's for breakfast (and I highly recommend that you do) this is what it looks like:

Plus it's address is something on Main Street in Heber. You should probably know what kind of an establishment it is too. I think that there are about 8 booths in the whole place and that's all. This is their typical clientele:

That is real life manure on his boots with real life spurs. That's because they are all real life cowboys. And what kind of food do real life cowboys like to eat?

Incase you didn't notice it is DELICIOUS!!! That pancake is buckwheat, those hashbrowns are crunchy, and the bacon is pretty much a whole pigs worth. They have lots of other stuff that I'm sure is equally as wonderful, only I've never tasted it because I love this so much I don't dare mess with it.

Plus, also, on the way to Heber it was about -100 degrees. It was so cold that the reservoir was warmer than the air so steam came up off of the water. It was so beautiful that I took several photos:

Plus, also, we went to the boutique, but it was only just a boutique and not Chick's. If any of you feel like you should maybe go to Chick's you are correct, only you cannot go without me.

Best Thanksgiving Ever

2009-12-02T23:16:00.004-07:00

I've been needing to blog for a long time. Only guess what? I've not had one tiny minute to do so. I should be going to bed right now, but I'm going to see how much I can get done speedy quick. Also, this blog is a little longish, but most of it is photos so you should probably read it anyway.

Let's begin way back on November 22nd. That is the best day ever because it is my birthday. You may have noticed since I made Hillyerie blog about me. I had a most wonderful birthday. My most favorite part was everone telling me that they loved me. My almost as favorite part was the fantastic presents I got:

I already showed off my Wicked calendar that Kesk got me, but it is so wonderful, I thought I should put it on again. I also got Bette Midler CDs from Aunt Kaye because she knows I LOVE Bette Midler. Hillyerie and Lynne got me the most fantastic red shoes. I actually got them last month, and I wear them so much I'm about to wear them right out already. For Christmas I'm going to take them back to their houses and have them fill them with homemade caramels. Plus, also, that Hillyerie, because she can't help herself, got me the slippers what that I LOVE and the ball. If you think that ball is a weird gift for a 34 year old, you may be correct, only I've wanted one for over a year. It is filled with a glittery liquid that is so hypnotizing. I used to take them away from my students and then sit and then play with them. Hank likes that present quite a bit too. We have to fight over it sometimes. Plus, also, I got a crock pot from my Amy friend. It was such a thoughtful gift because she knew I needed one. When I first moved into my current house, I didn't have an oven. I had to have some way of cooking, so I borrowed Amy's crock pot. I kept it for a very long time. Only don't feel too bad for Amy because I always brought what I made to lunch the next day for both of us. So, that Amy friend knew that I needed one and that I'd love one. Plus, also for my birthday, Hillyerie had me to her house for dinner. She made me birthday cheesecake as Ruby is so proudly showing off:

That brings us to Thanksgiving. I think I quite possibly had the best Thanksgiving ever. I went to St. George to have it with the Ences. You may remember them from the blog I did in October about Dad Ence when he passed away. I have actually spent many a Thanksgiving with the Ences, but it's been a few years. I caught a lot of guff for it from them, but I blame Inkey:

She went and got married and moved to St. George. It was hard for me to go down with her when she was already there and I didn't much want to invite myself. Now I know better and I will not make that mistake again. I think Inkey will be okay with me blaming her since she knows it's a pretty weak excuse and I'm grasping at straws here. So, anyway, I went to St. George and it was like coming home again. St. George has a special place in my heart. I decided that is probably because every time I go it is to be with the Ences. I don't have a care in the world because I leave all of that back in Utah County. I go and eat yummy food, play with Mom Ence, Inkey, and all of her sisters, shop, watch movies, eat more yummy food...I think you get the picture.

After Thanksgiving we drug out the Christmas decorations and got busy decorating:

I love this photo of Inkey's little Aidan. He looks so tiny next to that monster tree. These are some photo of Inkey's husband, Phil, helping Holly's littles decorate the tree.

Plus, also, I took some photos of little Maddux, only I'm not sure what happened to them. He is such a cutie that I stole a photo of him from Inkey's blog:

I think it's an oldish photo, but he was still exactly this cute last week. I also told Inkey that after spending time with Maddux and Aidan that I was going to have to expand my list of kids that I love best by two.

On Black Friday no one was too interested in getting up at the crack of dawn to fight people for good deals. However, around 10:00 a.m. Inkey, Mom Ence, and I did wander down to Krumpet's. That store has the most wonderful of everything decorating-ish. Really, I could hardly stand it. I wanted pretty much everything. I limited myself to just a few things. All of them well under $10 and all of them Christmas decorations:

The snowflake and not the stocking is the decoration I got at Krumpet's. The stocking is one that Aunt Kaye made last Christmas. It's pretty cute too.

I've decided that the biggest problem I have with going to St. George is that I don't ever want to come back. Only too bad for me.

Finger Lickin' Good

2009-11-18T22:03:00.000-07:00

My house doesn't have an oven. Actually, that's not quite true. I have a very spendy Thermador double oven, only I can't use it. It has no oven racks and nobody can find any to fit. I know that sounds impossible, but it's true. I've lived here for a year and a half and still no oven. It is really and truly the only thing I can think of about this place that I don't love. My house is practically perfect in every way. Only good thing for me that my Auntie Kaye loves me and for my Birthday or Christmas or some such winter holiday last year she gave me the money to buy a convection oven. (On a very important side note my afore mentioned birthday is this Sunday, November 22, beginnig at 4:20 a.m. Not that I expect gifts and/or doting on, on that day. I'm just sayin'.) So, when Auntie gave me the money I did a lot of research and got the perfect one for me. It's much bigger than any other one I could find on the market. It bakes, convections, and rotisseries. It's actually perfect and I've not missed my oven one bit except if I want to cook something in a 9x13 pan. Which again, I usually don't because I only cook for me and I don't need a 9x13 pan of anything, except for maybe brownies or cake or cream cheese chicken. One of my favorite things to cook in my oven is rotisserie chicken. I'd been hankering for one, so last night I made one. It's turned out to be a fun activity for Hank:

He sat and watched that Chicken rotate forever. If I were a cat, I'd think I'd want to keep my eye on a moving chicken too just incase it decided to rotate into my mouth. However, after a while he got tired:

Note that he didn't quit watching, he just decided that he could watch it just as carefully while lying down. He's pretty much my favorite.

Plus, also, since this is a story about chicken, I should probably show you how scrum-diddly-umptious it turned out:

And that's all. The end.

A Pretty Much Perfect Day

2009-11-16T22:06:00.005-07:00

Dear "Hurbilly" Anonamous Commentor, This blog is maybe a bit "long winded" for you, so you may want to not read it if you think it will be too taxing to look up all the big words in the dictionary as you read. I'm just sayin'.

I feel like I want to blog today, but I'm not sure what to blog about. I just had one of those days where at the end you feel content and like you accomplished what you wanted to. Those days seem to be rare because I always want to get a lot more done than I ususally do. Maybe you should just have a play-by-play of my day and then you'll know about how productive I really was.

6:00 a.m.--This doesn't sound like a pleasant hour at all, but it was because I got up to be on conference call with Julianne, my Mary Kay National Director.  Incase you think she's crazy for having everyone call at 6:00 a.m. or I'm crazy for doing it, she also has a 7:00 p.m. on Sunday night one for those of us that are morningly challenged. I could have gotten on that one last night but a couple of people I know were yacking my ears off and I missed it. (You know who you are.) Good thing I love their guts :) You probably remember Julianne because it was her good thing idea for me to go to New York and see Wicked. I love that lady because she has good ideas. She's always so excited and before you know it you are excited too. You don't necessarily know why, but it doesn't matter because excited is always a good thing.

7:30 a.m.--I went to school. I had not been there since last Tuesday because of the death illness that didn't quite kill me but left me mostly dead for about 4 days. I was somewhat behind, needless to say, but I got caught up lickety split and the kids missed me sorely.  Having a sub for a few days will do that to them. Sometimes I'm tempted to stay home just so they will love me more when I get back.

8:00 a.m.--I taught my first period and we did a fun thing that they enjoyed. They got to work in groups so they hardly noticed at all that they were learning hard stuff that they hate. It's easier to be happy at school when all the littles are happy too. Plus, it's nice when you have those days were you feel like you are a good teacher because you came up with an awesome activity.

9:50--I was eavesdropping on my 3rd period class as they worked in their groups. I am very good at working at my desk while listening to 4 or 5 conversations at once. It never occurs to them that I'm listening to what they are saying. A group of 3 boys was having a conversation that involved "that time of the month." What do 13 and 14 year old boys know about "that time of the month," I ask you? And furthermore, why would they talk about it? I don't have an answer because I missed the beginning of the conversation.  I decided that it was a good thing that they didn't know I was listening because them I'm off the hook for having to ask them why they were talking about that.

11:45--Lunch. Yummy tomato soup in the quietness of my room.

12:15--Lots more teaching until...

3:00--I got a phone call from one very small Roxie that was missing me and wanted me to come and see her. I'm pretty sure she is my biggest fan. At least in the under 4 year old category. It broke my heart a tiny bit.

3:10--I left school and went to see my new Nevin friend. I had a HUGE bee in my bonnet and he was very helpful in how to handle that very pesky bee.

5:15--Hillyerie did not answer her phone even though she knew it was Monday after 5:00, and I was going to tell her about how the bee conversation turned out.

6:00--Delivered some Mary Kay product in Highland. I wandered around a bit looking for the place, but when I got there I was rewarded with $50.

6:20--Delivered some more Mary Kay product in American Fork. This time I was rewarded with $70.

6:35--Went to Walmart. Found a filter for my humidifier and a fun Christmas thing.

7:10--Panda Express orange chicken dinner--Yummy!

7:30--I went to Roxie's house to see her and the other zoo animals that live there. I was not rewarded with money but with something even better--lots of snuggles and loves from all three animals. Plus, I managed to hear Family Home Evening AND get my birthday present. Best idea I had all day was to go there. This is what my present was:

It is the biggest, most wonderful Wicked calendar ever. The photos are huge and the actual calendar is small, as it should be.

8:30--Came home, changed in to my warm jammies, and loved on Hank a bit.

9:15--Blogged.

See how full and productive and fun that whole day was? Now to top it all off, I'm going to snuggle into bed and have a sleep. Yey me. I hope you all had a day that was equally as great.

Polyanna

2009-11-14T16:32:00.003-07:00

When I was in the 4th grade I read the book Pollyanna. It became my favorite book and I was mad at that Haley Mills for making a movie about it that wasn't as good as my imagination. Only that's not my point, just a bitter side note. My point is that Pollyanna always played the glad game. No matter what the horribleness, she managed to find something to be glad about it. Today I decided to play the glad game. Here is the horribleness that I'm having to find gladness about:

I think that snow and cold is in my top 3 things that I don't love. One thing that I do love about it is that it puts me in the mood for this:

I LOVE Christmas and Christmas lights. I decided that if it was going to look like Christmas outside, then I'd enjoy my lights on the inside. Hank enjoys them as well.

The snow and cold also makes me want to have this:

I think that wassail is one of the few redeeming qualities of winter. I love the orangey, spicey, sugary goodenss. So, I had some today. Since I've still got a yucky head and throat, it was a pleasure. Only there was something that was even more of a pleasure than the wassail:

Yup, my mug has a cat in the bottom of it that peeks out at you as you drink your beverage. When I was a wee one my mama's cousin Hazel had a mug with a frog in the bottom of it. One day she made me some hot chocolate and told me that if I'd drink it all, there was a surprise for me at the bottom of the mug. Can you imagine the delight of my 4 year old heart when I saw that frog? My sister bought me this cat mug several years ago because she knew how much I loved that frog mug. So, I'm glad that the cold brings Christmas and wassail and cat mugs.

Snogginess and Such

2009-11-12T20:44:00.001-07:00

I meant to blog sooner only I've been sick. And by sick I mean S-I-C-K. The kind that leaves you floating in and out of consciousness for a couple of days. I'm feeling a little better tonight after two days of sleeping and a long, hot bath tonight. I'll probably live. Who do I blame for this affliction?

Ruby, that's who! I happened to see her a few days ago and she was all snoggy, as Hillyerie says. I really don't think she got me sick because what I have is far worse that a little snogginess, but she's as good as anyone to blame. Plus, also, if I blame her then I can include that cute photo of her, which is my true motive.

Before my affliction I was going to blog about grocery shopping. Mostly because I needed to go so badly that my fridge looked like this:

Incase you didn't notice I only had corn tortillas, applesauce, eggs, a couple of Diet Cokes and a couple of bottled waters. That's because school teachers only get paid once a month, and toward the end of the month when the food is gone, it's gone. Then blessed pay day came and my fridge looked like this:

Do you see how relieved Hank is? He's looking at actual fruits and veggies and meats and cheeses. I guess the moral of this blog is that if I happen to show up on your doorstep around dinner time, check to see if it's the last week of the month and you'll know why.

Summit

2009-11-07T23:14:00.066-07:00

Today I had a super-fun Mary Kay conference what that is named Summit. Only it wasn't just any conference because I got to speak. I got to speak about my tip to New York. What does Mary Kay have to do with Kesk and I going to New York, you ask? Well, I'm going to tell you. Only I'm going to tell you by letting you read my speech. This works out for me in a couple of ways. First of all, you get the story and secondly, I have a record of my speech. I want to make sure I document this because it was such a powerful, important thing for me. Before you get to read my speech I think I should introduce you to my Mary Kay friends that will read about. The first photo is of me and my Amy friend. I think you are probably acquainted with her and how much I love her guts.

Then there is my Laurie friend. She's sure a good egg.

And finally, Julianne. She is the one that I actually have to thank for my most fabulous trip and a present she gave me, as you will soon see.

Now for the speech--

Good afternoon! When Julianne asked me to speak to you today about the power of a dream I felt deeply honored, a lot inadequate, but mostly I felt terrified. I just hope you can hear my heart today incase my words don’t come out the way my heart would like them too.

A little about me and my journey is that I started my MK business about a year and a half ago. I was, and still am, an 8th grade English teacher. There are a couple of reasons I decided to start. The first one is Amy Haider. In addition to being my director she is also a coworker and best friend. Back before she was my director and had just started her own MK business, she invited me to her parties. Of course I went because I’m pretty sure I’m her number one fan, and I wanted to support her. Which on a side note, actually brings me to my second reason for starting MK…every time I went to one of Amy’s events, Laurie Ashby would give me a call to follow up. After 9 months of telling Laurie no, I decided that if I signed maybe she’d quit calling me. Boy was I wrong about that! I really can’t shake her now. Truthfully, I’m just teasing Laurie a bit because I liked her so much I actually looked forward to Laurie calling. Looking back, I realize that if you can call someone repeatedly for 9 months to follow-up and they still look forward to the call, you are pretty much amazing. However, before Laurie wore me down I had no intention of ever becoming a consultant until the day Amy came to work and told me that she decided she was really going to do this MK thing for real and quit teaching school. If there is one thing that I cannot abide by it is being left behind or left out. I was not going to be left in that Jr. High alone while Amy played with makeup. I guess it’s true that when you can’t beat ‘em, you join ‘em. What I know for sure about all of that is that starting my MK business has been one of the most important decisions of my life. I have experienced immeasurable personal growth, come to recognize my strengths, and have had the opportunity to work on my weaknesses.

One of the greatest things I’ve learned is the power of a dream. I find it ironic that I’m speaking today about that because before MK I’d never dared to dream. I was raised with scarcity mentality. My focus was always on what I didn’t have instead of what I wanted. Surviving from day to day was enough. However, when I started MK everyone seemed to be obsessed with dreams and goals and they always wanted to know what mine were. Since I honestly couldn’t wrap my head around what that really meant, I’d just make something up that sounded good. Then one day last December just making one up to didn’t work out so much for me. I was on my way to St. George for the futurity trip and I had the chance to ride for a while with Julianne. Practically before we got out of the parking lot she began to talk to me about my dreams. I didn’t know what to say. Dreams were frivolous things for people who could afford them. Only apparently, I was wrong. Julianne was having none of that, and I’m not so sure she would have let me out of the car until I had a dream that I could get excited about. That is the first step to building a dream—it must be something from your heart. This was tough for me because I had to push aside years of scarcity mentality—years of thinking that I never had enough, and I had to start thinking in terms of abundance, because I found that dreams don’t come cheap. Julianne and I threw around a couple of ideas, but nothing spoke to me until the heavens opened up and choirs of angels began to sing. You think I’m kidding, but I swear I heard them singing and the songs they sang were from the musical Wicked! One thing I knew I wanted to do more than anything was to see that play and see it on Broadway in NY.

Now that I actually had a dream that I was excited about I thought I was done. Julianne would be happy with that, right? Come to find out, I was wrong about that too. She started asking me pesky detail questions that forced me to really envision what that dream would look like for me. One of the things she wanted to know was who I would take with me. I have a friend that is a little bit obsessed with Wicked like me, and I knew that she was the one who needed to go with me. It was something she would probably never do for herself, but it was a gift that I could give to her.

Now, let’s be clear ladies…I don’t know how many of you have ever ridden with Julianne or in a car like hers, but you are eyeball to eyeball in that thing, breathing the very same air. Personal space is not an option. In that kind of environment you’ll commit to most anything. You’ll commit because who wants to be disagreeable with someone you are sitting that close to in a car that is going 90 mph? I sure didn’t and so even though I never believed that I’d really go to NY, I sure as heck told Julianne that I would. Only too bad for me, because I was officially in the dream making business and Julianne was not going to let me forget it. Which brings us to another crucial part of making your dreams come true—you must tell someone about it! If no one else knows what your dream is, you probably won’t accomplish it. It’s so easy for us to let ourselves off the hook when things get difficult. However, someone else expecting you to do it is a strong motivator. In my case Julianne wasn’t the only one who knew because if I remember correctly, and I do, she promptly told everyone in the continental United States.

The next step and by far the scariest one for me was telling my friend that I was planning on taking her to NY to see Wicked. That is truly the point of no return. Someone else knowing is important, but if your dream involves your family or friends, you must commit to them too. It’s a lot harder to disappoint the ones you love. A couple of weeks after that fateful drive with Julianne I gave my friend 3 boxes for Christmas. Since Wicked is about the Wicked Witch of the West and Glinda from The Wizard of Oz, she got a witch hat in one box with some clever poem I wrote, a broom in the other with another clever poem, and in the 3rd box was a copy of the itinerary of our trip, a NY photo album, a NY calendar to count down the days, and of course another clever poem. I’m pretty sure there was a 30 second period where she didn’t breathe. To be honest, I wasn’t breathing either. What had I done?

Something I learned real quick about dreams is that they require a lot of planning! They don’t just happen. I had to do quite a bit of homework if this was going to work. I had to find out how much it was all going to cost and then figure out how I was going to pay for it. I had to research airfare, hotel, Wicked ticket prices, the cost of the tourist attractions that we’d want to see, food and cab money and of course shopping money. Since I didn’t have a few thousand dollars hanging around I had to break it all down month by month and week by week. I figured I needed an extra $300 a month. Really, that was only 6 miracle sets or a few extra parties a month. When you break it down like that, it feels less overwhelming and more obtainable. I set up a NY savings account that I did not touch unless it was for NY. The first thing I bought were the Wicked tickets. A couple of months later I got our airfare. Next came the hotel.

Bit by bit my dream became a reality, and on October 18, 2009 at 8:00 pm Eastern Standard Time, to be exact, I was sitting 5th row back, center section of the Gershwin Theater in NYC living my dream. Even though my friend and I had been in NY for a couple of days, it wasn’t until that moment that it really hit me that I can accomplish whatever I want. I felt so proud of myself because for the first time in my life I set a huge goal and I hung in there and did it. I think we frequently worry about trusting other people, but for the first time ever I realized that I could trust myself. I did what I said I would do. It also hit me in that theater that I did not do this alone, and I was so grateful for all those that helped me along the way. Lest you believe my journey was all smiles and fluffy bunnies, know that there were many bumpy days where I wanted to give up. But, here’s the good news: because I was surrounded by positive people that loved and believed in me, when those times came I had my own cheering section. You cannot achieve a dream without these people. In fact, if you surround yourself with Debbie Downers I dare say that when you feel discouraged you will give up for sure because Debbie Downers will only pull you down more. On the days I thought I must be crazy for thinking I could take someone to NY, I would inevitably get an email from Julianne asking me how it was going and telling me how awesome I was. However, on a day to day basis I relied heavily on my MK friends and director like Amy and Laurie and even Deanna was checking in on me. They have dried more than their fair share of my tears. On the flip side, it also meant the world to me that they weren’t just there for my bumps and bruises, they were always the first ones there to help me celebrate my successes. YOU HAVE GOT TO SURROUND YOURSELF WITH PEOPLE WHO BELIEVE IN YOU! Involve your directors because they are just itching to see you grow and succeed, and conveniently enough, they actually know how to get you there.

I don’t know how many of you have seen the play Wicked or are familiar with the music, but there is a song called Defying Gravity. Some of the lyrics say, “Something has changed within me, something is not the same. I’m through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game. Too late for second guessing, too late to go back to sleep. It’s time to trust my instincts, close my eyes and leap. It’s time to try defying gravity. I think I’ll try defying gravity, and you can’t pull me down.”

In my own way, I defied gravity. Now that I know what I can do, there is no going back. It only gets bigger and better from here. If you don’t have a dream, get one! What speaks to your heart? Is it a trip, a house, a gift for a loved one? It doesn’t matter, as long as it is something from your heart. Do you know what the power of accomplishing a dream really is? Sure you get something fun from it, but more importantly it gives you self-confidence, you will experience personal growth like never before as you stretch to make it happen, and it will give you hope. Hope for something better and a vision of who you can become. Think of how you want to defy gravity and then make it happen! Thank you.

During the speech Julianne showed photos of the trip on a couple of huge screens and then when it was all over, she played "Defying Gravity" as everyone cheered and clapped. It was so amazing and I felt honored to be able to tell my story. After all said clapping and cheering was done, Julianne loved on me for a minute and said some really nice things and then she gave me a present. I was not expecting that and when I saw it I squeeled like a little girl. Lucky for you, I have photos:

You're eyes do not decieve you because that is a Barbie collector's doll. The only Barbie I have ever loved. She got me the Nessa Rose doll, which those of you who are not acquainted with Wicked, would call The Wicked Witch of th East. And when you push a button it sings, "Ding, Dong, the Witch is Dead."

She looks really pretty and really grumpy because in the TRUE story she was both of those things. She was also not-so-nice and to prove that you should probably know that it is her fault that the Tin man became the Tin man and doesn't have a heart. Also, look at her tiny little stripey legs and ruby slippers:

I wanted to open her and get a good look at her, only Julianne about stroked out because apparently you can't open collector's editions or they are not collectable so much anymore. I didn't think a peek would hurt, but apparently it does.

All in all it was a most wonderful and "wicked" day!

The Nerve!

2009-11-06T13:29:00.003-07:00

It's time for me to come clean...I'm crazy. Okay, so maybe crazy isn't totally accurate, but it's not totally inaccurate either. I'm guessing that this isn't really a newsflash to the handful of you that read my blog. Maybe a better description than crazy is that sometimes I tend to lean toward the "glass is half-empty" side of things. I've taken every pill on the market and talked myself blue with therapists. If you promise not to tell anyone, I'll even admit that I've been hospitalized and had my brain shocked for it. One day maybe I'll tell you some of my stories from the psych ward. I met Jesus there and delivered an alien baby in the middle of the night for starters. However, that will have to wait for another day because this blog is about something else.

It's been a couple of years since I've seen a therapist because I had one for a long time named Erin that I know Heavenly Father put on the earth just for me. She patched me up pretty good and I had my brain shocked, so life was a pleasure and I had no need. The last several months, however, life has slowly felt less pleasurable and more glass half-emptyish again. Since being sad is not my best or most favorite feature, I decided to go back to therapy. I called Family Support and Treatment Center in Orem because they are so wonderful at that place. I’ve always had a girl therapist because who wants to tell their feelings to a boy? Not me, that's who. They happen to be on my list of reasons that I have a therapist in the first place. However, I failed to mention that when I called for the appointment. The nice receptionist put me on a waiting list and 6 weeks later I got a call telling me there was an opening. The same nice receptionist girl left me a message telling me that my new emotional best friend's name was Nevin Alderman and would Mondays at 4:00 be okay? I called her back and my conversation with the receptionist went a little like this:

"So, my new therapists name is Nevin, huh? That sounds suspiciously like a boy's name."

"Yes, Nevin is a boy. He's super nice."

"Oh, I'm, sure he is, only I'm also pretty sure I don't want to find out how nice. I don't know if I want to talk to a boy. I’ve tried to convince myself that I’d be okay, but now I'm thinking maybe not. Only I don't know as I want to wait another forever hoping that a girl therapist gets an opening. So, basically I don't know what I want to do. What do you think?"

"Well, Nevin really is so nice. We really love him here. Why don't you just come in once and give it a try? If you can't do it, then I know he'll be happy to help you figure out what to do."

I decided to do what she said. After all, my first appointment was a week away and I had plenty of time to chicken out. All week I convinced myself that I was feeling pretty good and not so depressed anymore. The closer Monday came the more I wanted to puke, so I decided that I'd call and just cancel all together. The Monday of my appointment I was having lunch with my Amy friend and telling her my plan to just not have therapy at all. She told me basically what the receptionist did and that there was a reason I went to the trouble to get the appointment, so I'd might as well go and see what happens. What was the worst that could happen? Mostly puking was the worst so I decided that she had a point, and I didn't call and cancel. However, I did decide that as soon as I got there I'd tell him that it was nothing personal, but I didn't like him and would prefer a girl therapist or maybe none at all. I would never tell someone what that isn't a therapist that I didn't like them, but I know that therapists are trained to be loving no matter what and that they really don't care because after all it is a crazy person telling them that. It's like when my kids don't love me best. I'm not sad because they are dumb kids and I don't need 14 year old friends.

When I got to the Family Support and Treatment Center, Nevin made me wait for 10 minutes past when our appointment was supposed to start and that made it all the easier for me to tell him I didn't like him. Finally, he came to get me and he acted like maybe meeting me was the highlight of his whole day. Darn it! How am I supposed to tell him how much I don't like him if he's going to act like?! Plus, the fact that he is fairly young and flashed a million dollar smile didn't help much. I have a student named Bryan that does that very same thing when he's doing something naughty 'cause he knows I'm a sucker for it.

We went into his office and he was just chit chatting with me about this, that and the other. I kept waiting for a good time to give him the bad news. Before I knew it, he pulled out some paperwork and said that he just wanted to go over that real quick. Okay, I'd tell him right after that. That seemed like a good time to do it. Only too bad for me because we never got through the paperwork! He tricked me by having lots of questions in that paperwork that required me to tell him lots of stuff I had no intention of telling him. I still thought that maybe I could work me not liking him into the conversation. Only he did something totally nervy. As I was talking he kept using phrases like:

“Wow, you are really ambitious.”
“You are so funny. I can tell that we are going to get along great.”
“Your kids at school must really love you.”
“I can’t believe how strong you are and what a survivor you are.”
“Do you know how amazing you are because other people with your experiences are typically so glum and absorbed in always being a victim.”

Don’t you think that was pretty nervy of him to say all that nice stuff when I’m doing my best to not like him? He was downright charming, and I didn’t appreciate it one bit! At the end of our session he said that he was excited for our time together and that he was really surprised that I was willing to work with him because he now knew that boys aren’t high on my list of trustworthy people. NOW was my chance. Only too bad for me because by then I really did like him. So instead, I told him that I meant to tell him in the beginning that I didn’t like him and that I wanted another therapist but that it didn’t work out so good for me because now I actually liked him. He laughed because I think he knew how tricky he was. Maybe next time I try to hate someone it will work out better for me.

Halloween

2009-11-01T14:26:00.002-07:00

My major Halloween plan was to not be home. Living in the same town you teach in has the potential to be anything but a pleasure. The last thing I want is for a bunch of 14 year olds to come to my house dressed up, begging for candy. I see them plenty enough during the week.  On Thrusday a girl named Annie talked to me about this very subject. Our conversation went like this:

     "Ms. Haymore, we are going to come to your house on Halloween and Trick-or-Treat."

     "Go ahead and knock yourselves out. I won't be there."

     "Why not Ms. Haymore?"

     "Because there is no occasion I can think of that I'd ever want any of you at my house."

She didn't really have too much to say after that. True to my word, I made other plans. I went to my Aunt Kaye's house for the weekend. She had a knee replacement last Thursday, so I thought I could maybe be of some use to her. It's a win/win as far as I'm concerned because I'm not at my house on Halloween and she gets the pleasure of my company. This is my favoritest photo of me and my Auntie:

Not bad for one I took myself with my phone. While at my auntie's house I carved my pumpkin. I LOVE carving pumpkins. It is my favorite part of Halloween. Aunt Kaye needed to be in her room lying down with ice and junk on her knee, so I carved it on her bedroom floor. That way neither one of us had to be lonely. This is my pumpkin:

I think the hardest part of pumpkin carving for me is choosing the pattern. After an hour of searching, I finally settled on this one. I felt a little bit sorry for that kitty what that almost got left behind, but he was so funny I couldn't resist.

That's all I have to say about Halloween. The not-so-spooky end.

Weekend Math

2009-10-25T21:24:00.002-06:00

I found out important things this weekend. One is that on a gloomy day sometimes you need to do some addition. For example:

Popcorn +

Chocolate Chips =

Yummy Goodness!

Who can feel sad about that? I also found out that yummy goodness + someone who loves you enough to bring it to you and giggle with you = being very blessed. Who knew math could be so fun?

Quite Possibly The Nicest Thing Anyone Has Ever Said to Me

2009-10-24T00:10:00.001-06:00

Tonight I was at a Mary Kay function. It was Girl's Night Out. We feed you dinner from Olive Garden, Wax your eyebrows, give you a facial/makeover, and then give you dessert. All for $10. Not to shabby if you ask me. Anyway, as I said before, I was there tonight. I have an Amy friend there. Only the Amy friend I'm referring to is not this Amy friend:

That is my Amy Haider friend what that is my bestest Amy friend. (On a totally nonrelated issue--I'm pretty sure that is a darling photo of the two of us.) As I was saying before being distracted by the cutness of that photo, the Amy I am referring to is my Amy Walker friend:

She and I were cutting up the cake to serve to the guests and she out of the blue asks me, "Shan, have you ever met anyone that doesn't like you?" I wasn't sure what she meant so I asked her, "What do you mean?" She replied, "It's just that I can't ever imagine anyone not liking you, so I thought I'd ask if you knew of anyone." Like I said, quite possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.

Street Cred.

2009-10-22T21:39:00.002-06:00

I hate to hurt Hank's feelings, but I have to call a spade a spade...He's a big boy. Fourteen pounds of big boy. It looks like he ate another cat.

He also has big claws like these:

And big, sharp teeth like these:

However, today he met his match. A foe so fierce that Hank ran out of the room with his big, fat tail tucked. I was able to catch a photo of this beast: Don't be frightnened:

I'm embarassed for Hank. I think he just lost a lot of street cred to the 2 pound kitten next door. He spent the rest of the afternoon like this:

At Least I Didn't Hit Someone on a Motorcycle

2009-10-14T22:14:00.000-06:00

I got pulled over again today. Only he didn't give me a ticket because I just barely got one on Monday. This officer looked a little more like this:

I'm pretty sure I need to just stay off the road...forever! My only consolation is that I didn't hit anyone on a motorcycle and none of my teeth fell out. That's an improvement from the last 2 days.

Alliteration

2009-10-13T21:30:00.004-06:00

Monday -motorcycle mayhem.
Tuesday -tooth trauma.
Wednesday -????????

I'm not sure what all kinds of alliteration goes with Wednesday, but maybe I should stay home in bed tomorrow just to be sure. Tuesday's tooth trauma is that I have a cracked tooth that sends me through the roof when something cold hits it. By cold I mean anything below 98.6 degrees. It will require a crown, but thankfully I can wait until after I get back from New York to take care of it. Speaking of New York, maybe you need a tiny little sneak peek:

This is our Hotel: Portland Square Hotel

Wicked

Statue of Liberty

Ellis Island -I don't think these people will actually be there, though.

Ground Zero

Times Square

Empire State Building

I know that Kesk will not be excited for this guy, but I am. I feel like I need a hot dog from a street vendor to have the true NYC experience. Good thing for me that I like hot dogs. This guy's name happens to be Ernie.

Motorcycles are NOT My Friends

2009-10-12T21:40:00.002-06:00

So, today I woke up under the assumption that it would be a pretty good day. I had reasons to believe that because for one thing I didn't have to go to school and teach all of the squirrely kids. I had a workshop in Springville that I had to go to, and I was pretty excited because it was going to be done a full hour before I would have been done at my school. For the record, that part of my day was pretty good. I only had one major computer catastrophe but as I mentioned before, I got to leave early so I didn't mind so much.

My problems started after I left that workshop place. I had a million of errands to do so I headed up to Provo to begin those errands. Only too bad for me, because there was a policeman on the side of the road just waiting for me. I wasn't even speeding. I'm careful not to do that so as not to draw attention to myself because I don't want the police to notice that my car should have been registered in July. He noticed. He was nice about the whole business. He didn't even write me a ticket for the fact that my driver's license was invalid. Neither one of us could figure out why so he told me to call the DMV to see why they didn't want me to drive so much. He even told me that if I'd get my car registered in the next 2 weeks, the ticket would be reduced to 20 bucks. I think it was this guy that pulled me over:

After I left the policeman I was a little rattled and couldn't decide if I still wanted to go to Provo/Orem or just go home, put my head under a huge pilla', and pretend like today never happened. I started back home and then thought to myself, "Self, you've got a million things to get done before you go to New York on Thursday, (Oh, by the way, did I mention that I'm going to New York on Thursday? Because I am.) and if you don't do them now, you'll never have time to get them done." Again, too bad for me that I didn't do the head-under-the-pillow thing. I got off of the next exit to turn around. I had to make a left turn to flip a U-turn so I put on my left signal. However, I had to lean a little to the right to make enough room for me to flip around. Some guy on a motorcycle saw me leaning to the right and decided that I was probably only kidding about the left turn signal so he tried to pass me on the left. Guess what, I turned left, as my signal indicated and hit him! Or rather, he hit me. He bounced right off of my front fender. Lucky for him, he didn't get dead. My favorite part is that he had the nerve to try and tell me that I shouldn't have been leaning to the right if I wasn't going to turn right. I told him that it doesn't matter which way I lean, he should probably look at my signal and think that there is a strong possibility that I'm going to turn that direction. No real damage was done, thankfully. My hubcap is cracked a little and I have a small scratch. I'm pretty sure that this is the motorcycle guy that hit me:

The next time that the Holy Ghost tells me to go home and go to bed, I'm going to listen.

Public Service Announcement

2009-10-06T14:43:00.002-06:00

DON'T READ THIS BOOK!!!

I guess you could read this book if you want to hear a pitiful story about a 7 year old boy that is beaten so badly on a regular basis that he almost dies. I am team teaching a class with another teacher at my school and she wanted to know what we should teach next. I've never taught 7th grade so I asked her what she usually teaches 'cause she's taught for about 30 years. She said The Lottery Rose. I'd never read it so I said, "Okay, but I should probably read it before I try to teach it to the kids." I've found that it usually works out better that way. So, Sunday I read it. I didn't love all the yucky stuff, but I told myself it'd be okay because it had to end happy, right? Nope. In fact it got worse...there is a little retarded boy in it that the abused boy, Georgie, absolutely loves. The only person he's ever really loved. (I'm going to tell you what happens because you should never read it, anyway.) The little retarded boy dies!!!!! Not only that but they never tell us if anybody ever loves Georgie enough to take him home or something. It just ends. My feelings at the end of this book put Petey in "Touched by an Angel" to shame.

Bug Problem

2009-10-05T21:27:00.002-06:00

For some reason I have HUGE bugs at my house. I didn't take a photo, but I came home from school a few weeks ago and there was a grasshopper the size of my door knob. Plus, also, if you don't remember the humongo wasps nest outside my door, what that humongo wasps lived in, I'll remind you:

Then one day I walked out of my door and saw this guy staring up at me:

What is he anyway? An albino Preying Mantis perhaps? And just incase you don't believe me that he was huge, I've given you a point of reference:

Almost as big as my glasses, I tell you.

One night a week or so ago I saw this thankfully dead guy on my rug:

Yup, one inch with all of his dead legs crumpled up under him. I don't want to think what he looked like when he's legs were fully functioning. I think Hank should be earning his keep and killing those kinds of critters.

This green thing was on my door frame:

I don't know for sure what he is, but since he looks like a big leaf with legs, I'm calling him a leaf bug.

Then, if you think all of those things are scary, hold on to your britches because I found the biggest varmint I ever met in my house. I put it next to a ruler so you could see how gigantic it really is:

St. George

2009-10-04T12:14:00.002-06:00

On my way to St. George on Friday I took this photo from the car window:

How beautiful is that?!

My trip to St. George went well. I felt honored to be there and grateful to say my good byes to Dad Ence. The funeral was beautiful. I was surprised by how difficult it all was for me. I think I've figured out why. I believe it was because I could feel Dad Ence's spirit so strongly during the funeral and the graveside services, and the last time I felt that feeling was at my brother, Larry's funeral. I remember not wanting to leave the funeral when Larry died because I knew that he'd leave and I'd never feel him like that again. It was like he was there with me. If I could stay in that building, then maybe he'd stay there with me forever. Just like with Larry, I knew Dad Ence was there and I desperatly wished that I'd seen him before he passed away. He was so sick for a while before his death and I was afraid of being a burden on the family, so I stayed away. I'll not make that mistake again.

On a happier note, Mom Ence invited me to come back for Thanksgiving. She even told me I could have my very own gravy boat because it is my favorite. Who can say no to that?

Dad Ence

2009-10-02T08:55:00.018-06:00

Once, a long time ago, let's say 12 years-ish, I met a girl named Heather Ence. Mostly I call her Inkey, but that's another story for another day. Inkey and I were mission companions in the MTC in June of 1997 because we were both going to be serving our missions in Los Angeles. The moment we met we became bestest friends. I personally believe we loved each other from the first moment we met because we were both so relieved that the other one wasn't some skinny little 90 pound waif that we'd be stuck standing next to for the next two months. However, I think you'll agree that we were both pretty much hotties, anyway:
This was taken in Los Angeles while we were being missionaries. Oh how I miss that skinnier version of me. Anyway, Inkey and I really did become the bestest of friends and after our missions we roomed together while going to BYU. Part of the good news about being Inkey's friend is that her family came with her. I immediately loved her mom and dad the second I met them just like I did Inkey. Maybe it's something in their gene pool that makes you love them best right off the bat. Regardless, of why, I decided that they probably needed a 6th black headed child and they loved me and let me pretend that I was theirs. Inkey and I took many trips down to St. George to visit. My favorite trips were the Thanksgiving ones. Mom Ence makes the best dang gravy I've ever eaten.

On Wednesday I got a phone call from Inkey delivering some bad news. Dad Ence passed away earlier that morning. I was shocked and then very sad. Since then I've spent a lot of time thinking about what he meant to me. First of all, here is a photo:

As you can probably tell, this was my graduation from BYU. Mom and Dad Ence drove the four hours up from St. George and watched me graduate. That's the kind of people they are. You can also probably tell that Dad Ence is in a wheel chair, so you know that trip wasn't an easy one to make. I wasn't able to have any of my family there and it meant the world to me that they were. I don't know if I've ever told them that, but it really was the most special part of that day for me.

I never really met my real dad and my step-dad and I didn't get along, so I loved that Dad Ence let me adopt him, so to speak. What I probably remember the very most is all of the games of Go Fish we played together. Here's what I don't understand about those games...How does a man that doesn't really have use of his arms, beat me 9 times out of 10? For heaven's sake, I was the one that actually controlled his cards, yet he beat me most every time. I'll never get that one. I think it must have been all of his smack talk and insults of my poor playing ability that threw me off psychologically. That's the story I tell myself so my self-esteem doesn't suffer, anyway.

Aside from harassing me, Dad Ence also made me laugh. It cracked me up that when you fed him cookies or crackers, or something smallish like that he liked to have a certain number of them in his mouth at a time. I don't remember the exact numbers, but I believe he liked some in each cheek. He also used to swing his arm up, hit me in the gut and say, "Don't pat the fat!" I still say that if someone touches my belly.

Dad Ence taught me quite a bit about love, humility and patience. I never met a family that loved and cared so much for him and he for they. He spent a lot of years in a body that didn't work and he had to rely on others for his everyday needs. I try to remember the amount of humility and patience he must have had to develop. When I get frustrated with others or upset that I can't do something myself, I try to remember that. I also try to remember the amount of love and patience Mom Ence had all of those years to provide those services. I always said that I hope Mom Ence will put in a good word for me when she gets to the Celestial Kingdom, because she's got a ticket straight there.

I will always cherish my memories with Dad Ence and I wish the whole Ence family peace and comfort. I know they will miss him as he continues to watch over them and care for them from the other side.

Hank and the Rotton, No Good, Very Bad Night

2009-09-28T17:20:00.003-06:00

Hank and I had a less-than-pleasurable weekend together. He is usually a very sweet child. Only not this weekend. On Friday night I was trying to walk out of my house and Hank was hovering by the door. Sometimes he likes to run out when I open it, and I didn't have time to mess with that foolishness. So, I put my foot out as a barrier to keep him from running out. Only guess what? He doesn't appreciate being shooed with my foot. I think he thinks it's disrespectful and IF he were a person, he'd be right. Nobody has bothered to tell him he's a cat yet. I blame myself. Since he is a cat and can't use his words, he showed me his displeasure another way...he wrapped himself around my foot and put all of his claws and teeth into whatever he could sink them into. Mostly my foot and leg. Luckily the leg was covered with pants, but the foot was not so lucky:

Then on Saturday night I came home late. Like 11:30ish late. Hank must have been lying in wait for me because the second the door opened, he zoomed out. I had my hands good and full and could do nothing about it. So, I came inside, put down my load and went back out to go find him. Usually, he will run out into the yard and sniff around the flowers for a minute and I can scoop him up while he is busy investigating. Not this time. This time he ran from me when I got close to him. He would only run just out of reach and wait for me to get close to him again. Then when I got within reach, he'd run a few more yards out of my reach. I was not saying kind, loving, be like Jesus words at that moment. Also, keep in mind that I was still really upset with him from the night before. I probably spent one minute trying to get him and then I told him he could stay out all night for all I cared and went inside. I fully expected him to be meowing at the door in a few minutes. He typically gets nervous about being outside within 5 or 10 minutes. I checked about 15 minutes later and he was nowhere to be found. I shut the door and went to bed. At 8:00 yesterday morning I woke up and when I didn't hear the tinkle of his collar outside my door, I remembered that I left him outside. I opened the front door and he ran in like a shot. He was not pleased. Apparently, it's colder outside than inside and there are no food and water dishes always full for the eating. Also, there are no warm, soft blankets and beds and couches to sleep on out there. I laughed at his displeasure. He ran straight in and got food. He hadn't eaten the night before because he ran off before I could feed him. Then he went to my room and promptly passed out on my bed. I giggled in delight to think that he was probably a nervous wreck and didn't sleep a wink outside.

Only as he was lying there I noticed that he was not my white kitty but a much dingier, grey cat. I delighted even more in thinking about how much he was going to hate the bath he was about to get.

He was very upset and tried to lick himself dry. You can already see how much whiter and porcupine-like he was. And once he dried, he practically sparkled:

After his most traumatic day, he has cooled his jets quite a bit and we are friends again.

Who Knew?

2009-09-24T18:23:00.006-06:00

Today I took a walk. I took my camera with me to see what I could see. Who knew all the things right outside my own door? For example, apparently, I live in the forest. This photo was taken right outside my very door on the side of my house:
I walked right through it to begin my walk because it looked so lovely.

I live right next to an elementary school and someone lost their homework:

I hope they didn't get in too much trouble. I decided that I would probably have stopped at 7+8 too. Numbers are hard.

Plus, also, who knew that the park next to my house has a nice little walking path?

I maybe should have noticed it when I was at the carnival, but I was too busy talking to Hillyerie I bet.

I found these guys playing in a little stream that runs by the park:

Who knew that kids still played outside in the dirt like kids should? Sometimes I worry about that because our society is getting so that we keep our kids inside 24/7.

Who knew that people still had tomatoes on their vines? I thought it might be a little late for them.
These people had LOTS of tomatoes:

Then I saw a house with this sign:

I don't always worry so much about those signs because people will put them up just to keep people away from their houses. Only who knew these people really meant it?:

I saw a house with a limo in the driveway and I thought, "How Fancy!" Only then I thought, "Maybe not so fancy." :
The cooler, wheel barrow, bikes, dilapidated yard swing, and sacks of cement in the dirt yard kind of detracted from the fanciness.

When I got back to my house I found this:

It used to be our mailbox. Only who knew that if your 15 year old neighbor knocks it over with her mom and dad's new Mercedes, you don't get mail anymore? Well, you don't unless you go to the post office and beg them for it.

The last and happiest part of my walk is who knew that I got a welcoming committee?

Mostly, who knew all of the things that are in your very own neighborhood when you are walking and not zipping past in your car trying to get somewhere you probably didn't want to go to in the first place?

Things I Worry about when I Should be Sleeping

2009-09-23T19:53:00.002-06:00

1. I hope I don't forget my lunch in the fridge tomorrow morning. It's a yummy lunch and I'll sure be hungry if I do.

2. Oh, Shoot. I forget to put the attendance in the computer before I left school today. Julie is not going to be happy with me. I bet I'll get one of those not-so-friendly emails tomorrow morning reminding everyone to put in their attendance everyday when I know it's just for me.

3. I wonder what I'm going to wear tomorrow? I'm not so sure I have too much clean.

4. Once the red gas light comes on in my car, I wonder how long I can go before I have to get gas? I've got to go to Spanish Fork tomorrow, I bet I can get there. I hope I can get there. We'll see if I can get there.

5. What if I can't fall asleep? I've got to get up early and if I don't sleep, I'll hate tomorrow.

6. I'm almost out of milk.

7. I haven't gotten any mail the last few days. I should go over to the Eaves and see if they have my mail at their house.

8. I wonder why my cat is so big. I'm not sure if he's just a big cat or if he's getting fat. I only feed him 1/2 a cup a day. That's all I need is a fat cat. I guess it's not the end of the world to have a fat cat. Unless he gets dead from a teeny kitty heart attack. Then it's the end of the world for him.

9. I've got to get some money to register my car. It's to the point that they will tow it if I get caught. On the other hand, I'm sure an obedient, safe driver now. No need to draw attention to myself.

10. I hate it when my favorite TV shows come on at the same time. How am I supposed to pick?

11. Where's the best place to buy panty hose?

...and the list goes on and on. I don't worry about these things in the day when I'm supposed to worry about them. Nope, only at night.

Tips to Surviving Parent/Teacher Conferences

2009-09-17T21:05:00.004-06:00

1. Diet Coke

2. It's best not to laugh at the kids who you get in trouble while their parents are still sitting there.

3. Eat garlic before hand...parents tend not to linger.

4. When talking to parents avoid phrases like, "You look so familiar. Did I see you at the bar last weekend?" or "I'm not sure why your kid is failing. Maybe you should just stick him/her in special ed."

5. If a parent tells you that their child is too smart for your class--agree. Then send them directly to the principal to tell her how smart the kid is and demand that they be transferred out of your class and into honors English. Nobody likes those know-it-all kids anyway.

6. Be extra-nice to the parents whose kids are idiots...after all, they are stuck with them forever. You are only pulling a 45 minute shift a few times a week.

7. Never admit that you really have no recollection of ever seeing their child before.

8. On the day of P/T conferences make your kids feel sorry for you because you have to be there all day, and tell them to bring you stuff when they come with their parents.

9. NEVER eat anything homemade they bring you.

10. Make sure you've planned an easy teaching day for the day after because post parent/teacher conference hangover is a beast.

Tender Mercies

2009-09-14T21:44:00.002-06:00

Sunday I taught Relief society. That’s my job every 2nd Sunday. I realized that it was going to be a tough one when I started crying during the practice hymn. Furthermore, I didn’t stop until sometime after I got home. Why? I don’t know. Maybe for lots of reasons, but I think the subject matter didn’t help too much. My lesson was on friendship. I know that I have more than my fair share of friends. Not just your regular kind either. The kind that many people go a whole lifetime and never find. The kind that listen real close, laugh with you until you snort, and always hold your heart carefully. I think here’s the part that makes me bawly…Why me? How come Heavenly Father loves me and blesses me with so many people to love and that love me back? I happen to know me better than anyone else, and I sometimes don’t feel worthy of all the angels Heavenly Father has given me. I think my friends are Heavenly Father's tender mercies for me. It’s what I’m most grateful for in my whole life, and I pray every day you don’t get tired of me. I’m such a mess sometimes. I guess mostly I just want to say thank you and that I love you.

I looked out the window and what did I see?...

2009-09-13T20:32:00.005-06:00

Actually, that's not so true. On Onion Days day Hillyerie noticed it. I was shocked because as you can tell it is quite large. It is just outside my front door and has been for a long time. I was wondering all summer why there were always hornets in my house. Hank liked them because he could chase them around. I just ignored them until they got dead of their own accord and then I threw them away. I grew up with bee hives all around because my Uncle Ed was a bee keeper. I'm not allergic and have spent time with swarms of them, literally, so I wasn't too alarmed or worried. However, when I saw how huge that nest was I decided I should be nervous about it. I saw that My Girl movie where the little boy got dead because of bees. Only it was too late too get too worked up because I think it is empty now. Do hornets leave their nests? More importantly, do they come back? If they do, I need to take the nest down. If not, then I kind of like it there.

Too Bad For Me Because I'm Not A Bleeder

2009-09-09T19:57:00.007-06:00

Remember my snarky post about the clinic in Springville that advertised free bandaids with their flu shot? Well, apparently it's not a laughing matter because today I got a flu shot and guess what I didn't get? Yup, no band aid for me. She poked me and looked at my arm to see if I was going to bleed out and then sent me on my way when I didn't. Serves me right for my smart aleckiness. It also serves me right for not being a bleeder. I was actually a little butt-hurt about not getting one. First thing at school tomorrow I'm marching myself to the front office and demanding a Band-Aid.
Plus, also, if some one knows the best way to spell bandaid/band aid/Band-Aid, let me know.

Good Eggs

2009-09-07T19:46:00.003-06:00

I bet none of you know just how pitiful my life has been the last couple of summers. I will now tell you. I live in Payson, America. I've lived here since June 1, 2008. That is not the pitiful part because I happen to love it here. I love it here more than any other place I've lived in Utah and I've lived many places: Lehi, Pleasant Grove, Cedar Hills, Orem, and Provo. Here's the pitiful part...I happen to live almost exactly across the street from the big park here. I guess that's not exactly the pitiful part yet because I love that park, too. It's a nice park and two times a year they have a huge carnival there. Once in early summer for Scottish days and then again on Labor Day weekend for Onion days. Did I mention that I love carnivals? I love the booths, the food (especially the food), the rides, the people, and even the heat. I love ALL of it. (Only maybe not the clowns if there are any because clowns are scary and if you think I'm kidding you'd be wrong.) Here has been my dilemma and the source of my pitifulness...for 2 summers now I have not been able to go to the carnivals that are almost exactly across the street from my house. Why, you ask? Because I also happen to teach jr. high kids in this same town. As far as kids are concerned I'm not really a person because I'm their teacher. If I were to show up at the carnival to enjoy a good scone, for example, I would run into no less than 32 kids that I currently teach or have taught in one of my past 8 years here. This is not a problem at all if someone were with me also enjoying a scone, perhaps. However, without a good-time carnival friend with me I'd look like a creepy old maid cat lady that is too weird to even have friends. Jr. high kids are not just mean to each other, they are terrible to weirdo teachers too. I know this because we have a couple of them at my school. One guy is rumored to live in his mom's basement growing frogs. The other is said to sit at home all by herself all evening picking at her mustache. In the kids defense, these teachers are kind of creepy weird and I must take care not to turn into one of them. Hanging out alone at a place made for fun and friends might just be the thing that does it. This summer, however, I fixed that and forced this girl to the carnival with me since she lives close and has kids that likes that kind of business: All 2 of you that read my blog probably recognize her as that Hillyerie girl. We had a good time even if she did get stuck in the parade, have to walk 60 miles from her car to the carnival, not get a ride the 60 miles back to her car because my car was blocked into my driveway, lose her car, and once she finally got to her car, it had a flat tire. Her first flat tire ever. She will probably blog more fully about it all. I just mention it all because I think she's a good egg for coming to be my carnival date and having a good time despite all that. At least she pretended to have fun and that's enough for me. The girls had fun:

Oh, and this is Maddy looking all dramatic in front of the flat tire:

At first she smiled but I made her frown because flat tires aren't happy. Her dad came and rescued us. He's a good egg too. All I can hope is that by next year Hillyerie has forgotten the trauma of this year and will be my date again.

Full Circle

2009-09-06T22:39:00.003-06:00

In honor of my weekend at the Storytelling Festival, I feel I need to tell this story. It begins in North Carolina where I grew up. I believe it proves that no matter how old you get, or how far away from home you may move, you always come back full circle.

The first time I realized there was a distinct possibility that I was a redneck was when I was about 12 years old. When you are a kid you don’t notice stuff like that because you have other important things to think about like how to get to the good swing before Angie Vance when the teacher let you out for recess. Also, in my defense, I grew up in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains; so really, pretty much everybody in my town could be classified as a redneck. It wasn’t a bad thing. While life here in Utah is about as opposite as you could imagine from my southern upbringing, one thing that the cultures share is an enthusiasm for killing things. I don't really understand how shooting things is fun, but I also don't mind that others do. Growing up, my brother-in-law, Buddy, was and still is an avid deer hunter. We all knew that every fall and winter Buddy would be missing in action for a few weeks and he'd likely return with a deer carcass or two. As a result, I've had my fair share of deer chili, deer jerky, deer burgers, deer roast, and other deer meat concoctions. Again, I don't mind it so much. After one particular hunting trip, I happened to be at my sister's house when Buddy got home with the kill. I sat in the living room and watched him cover the coffee table with garbage bags. I didn't think too much of it until he dragged that deer carcass into the house and plopped it onto the coffee table. He then commenced to hacking at that thing right there in the middle of the living room. Honestly speaking, I still didn't think a whole lot of it. I just kept watching TV and playing with my nieces. The moment when it all became very clear to me was when I heard the dog and cat fighting and looked to see what the matter was. I looked down and saw that Buddy had thrown them a bone and they were fighting over it right there on the living room carpet. THEN it dawned on me that I was the people that Jeff Foxworthy made fun of. This was a moment that very well could have been illustrated in one of his You Might be a Redneck if... books. “You might be a redneck if you’ve ever had a relative chop up a deer corpse on your living room coffee table while the dog and cat fought over the bones.”

Fast forward about 20 years. Since then I’ve graduated from high school, moved to Utah, served a mission in Los Angeles, graduated from BYU, and have taught jr. high English for the past 9 years. There is really no part of my life that resembles redneckness. For heaven’s sake, I’m a Mary Kay beauty consultant. Fancy high heel shoes make me downright giddy. I’m pretty girly and I dare say even a bit prissy. Imagine my surprise tonight when I looked at my own living room floor and saw this:

I'd like to tell you that I didn't give my cat a huge bone to knaw on in the living room, but I can't.

Have I Got a Deal for You!

2009-09-02T19:47:00.000-06:00

I don't have a photo for this blog and for that I am truly sorry. I will just tell you instead. Today I was running an errand in Springville and I happened by a sign outside of a health clinic that said this, "Free Bandaid with Flu Shot." I sure know where I'm getting my flu shot this year. With those kinds of benefits, who wouldn't? I never got bandaids with my shots before because who can afford it? I've just always drip-dried. Boy am I going to feel fancy this year.

What I Know for Sure about Today

2009-08-30T00:45:00.001-06:00

1. Waking up at 6:30 a.m. is early, but 5:00 a.m. is earlier and not as pleasant. I'm glad my husband, what that I don't have, didn't have to go fishing this morning at that unpleasant hour.

2. You can't drive 120 miles on only a quarter tank of gas.

3. Helping a bride-to-be feel beautiful for her big day is a pay check of the heart that can't be beat.

4. Orange fingers are a small price to pay for Cheetos.

5. Long drives home are not so lonely if you call a friend and giggle a lot.

6. You can be sure people are glad for you to visit if you bring chocloate.

7. Nine hours in high heels is only slightly less comfy than a root canal and you don't get laughing gas with it.

8. If your car is more than a month past registration you should obey all traffic laws so as not to draw attention to yourself.

9. It's better to be agreeable than to be right.

10. "The Golden Girls"--still funny!

Christian

2009-08-27T21:12:00.000-06:00

Today I had a delightful day. I didn't go to school, so that's something right there. Why I didn't teach today is another blog for another day. However, what I did do was spend some time with one zebra-boy named Christian. Tian's 7th birthday was Monday and so I owed him one birthday date. He got to pick out where we had lunch and he got to pick out a new pair of shoes. Fortunately for me, Tian loves the Cafe Rio so that's where we ate. He picked out some Transformer shoes that glow when you walk. I think it's safe to say that the society pages tomorrow will report that a good time was had by all.

I'm grateful for Christian. He has always held a special place in my heart. I was blessed enough to happen by the hospital moments before he was born. I got to be there for the miracle that was Tian. One thing I know for sure about him is that he was meant for greatness. I don't know what form of greatness, but I do know it will happen. He's blessed to have a mom that would walk to the ends of the Earth and back for him, and I believe she quite possibly does on some days. Happy birthday Tian! I love you!

More Than I Had Hoped For

2009-08-20T20:43:00.002-06:00

School has begun and I don't hate it. The end.

It's About Time

2009-08-14T10:01:00.003-06:00

I've been waiting a big long time to go to Lynne's house and sit upon her swings and visit with her. I was waiting for Hillyerie to get her ducks in a row and take me there, but that was happening too slowly. So, I called that Hillyerie up and told her that I was going to her mom's house with or without her but she was welcome to come. Since it is her mom, I thought it'd be nice to at least give her the chance to come and play with us. Yesterday we went. Only no swings. The weather man had different ideas. It rained no small amount last night. The good news is that this is what the rain left behind:
I can always come and sit on the swings another day, but that rainbow was pretty spectacular. It was even double, only you can't see that in the photo. My camera isn't super-schmancy enough.

Instead we went to Heap's for some dinner and sat inside to visit and visit and visit. One thing about that Lynne is it feels like you've always known her and so you want to sit and be with her all the time and tell her everything. She listenes good and laughs a lot.

I learned many things but this might be the most useful of all those things:
The best way to keep fur off of stuff is to go straight to the source. Now why didn't I think of rollering my cat? His fur everywhere makes me nuts. Note to self: Roller the cat because it's a much smaller area than rollering my whole house.

Plus, also, this cat:

I just needed a photo of that cat because she has the most grumpiest face I've ever met. It goes to show that you really can't judge a book by it's cover because she is not so grumpy as her face wants you to believe. I quite liked her.

Presents

2009-08-11T09:15:00.001-06:00

Hank has mouse babies. He loves them. He also loves to share them:

This photo is like Where's Waldo. Can you find the mouse baby? Plus, also, to Hillyerie, don't you think Mr. Smith should build me a shoe shelf too?

And my personal favorite:

I'm sure glad he's not an outdoor cat. Think of the treasures he'd bring me then.

Legacy

2009-08-09T19:14:00.004-06:00

Do you remember this day?

I bet you also remember this Amy girl.

So, on that not-so-great day I was talking to Amy. Let me clarify that: I was ugly crying at her on the phone. In my defense, it was her own fault. She never should have had the nerve to call me that day and be nice to me. Being sweet to someone that is emotionally unstable is only asking for it. To make a long story short, I was just having one of those unlovable days. The kind where you are just sure that everything you do is wrong, and you are confused about why anyone would love you because you don't love yourself so much in that moment. Everything that ever seemed wrong or I was ever insecure about just came crashing in around me that day. I now know that a good deal of it can be attributed to PMS, but at the time I was sure that everything I was feeling was true and that it would last forever.

One thing that works well for Amy and me is that her brain is wired differently than mine in most ways. For example, Amy was blessed to be born with a knowledge of who she is and raised in a home that really nurtured that. Me, not-so-much. That day Amy made it very clear to me that all I was thinking and feeling was a bunch of crap. The thing I love best that she told me was that Heavenly Father made me and He only makes people He likes. And if Heavenly Father likes me I should probably like myself, too. Touche. Then she told me that she was going to hang up and that I needed to make a list of 20 things I liked about myself. She could think of 50 off the top of her head, but she'd let me start with 20. Then I was going to call her back and tell her what they are. Sassy pants, that girl. She had the advantage of me being in a weakened state and not able to fight back too much, so I did it.

Fast forward a couple of days and I'm preparing my Relief Society lesson for today. I actually like teaching R.S. quite a bit. It's not primary. That's all I have to say about that. Today's lesson was on Joseph Smith's Wentworth letter. I honestly had no idea what that was all about. Maybe I shouldn't admit that, but it's true. After reading the lesson, I knew quite a bit about the letter, but had no idea what to do with that information. Everything in that letter is really basic, LDS info: Joseph Smith prays, Heavenly Father and Christ visit him, he gets the plates, translates them, the church grows, they are forced out of many towns and persecuted, the church sends missionaries all over the world, and then the Articles of Faith. Really, 40 minutes retelling that to women that know far more than I do about it all? The manual gave me NO help in maybe what principles would be a good thing idea to bring up. I imagined all the little old ladies on the back row nodding off from the heat and boredom. We have not a few of those in my ward. Then, in a moment of divine inspiration, one word came to my mind: Legacy. Because of those events, Joseph Smith left us with a legacy that makes it possible to get back to Heavenly Father. Pretty big deal. I thought about what my legacy would be to those that come after me. Obviously it's not the restoration of the church and the opening up of the heavens for Heavenly Father to communicate with prophets again. Thank goodness that's already been covered. It was then that I realized that the list that Amy made me write down is what my legacy will be. All we have is who we are and how we treat others. That's what people will remember you for and what you leave for them. I'd sure be sad to leave a legacy of hurt and pain to others. My friend Laurie once told me that hurting people, hurt people. However we treat those we love will be perpetuated for generations to come. On the flip side, loved people, love people. I like that better.

My Legacy:

I love with my whole heart. It's all or nothing.
I am loyal.
I go out of my way to help others.
I am willing.
I am teachable.
I don't give up.
I have compassion for others.
I try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.
Other people like to be around me.
I (generally speaking) really like the 8th graders I teach.
I'm creative.
I'm funny.
I'm good at compromising.
I make everyone feel like I love them best, because I do.
I am good with kids.
I'm smart
I'll sacrifice what I want in order to make someone else happy.
I'm grateful for what I have

Of course, our legacy will grow, develop, and change as we do those things. For now, that's a good start.

One of Those Days

2009-08-06T19:08:00.001-06:00

Do you ever have one of these kinds of days?

You know the kind. It involves ugly crying and headaches. Yeah. Me too.

Seminar 2009

2009-08-05T22:28:00.001-06:00

I've got to catch up because I have been to Dallas, and let me tell you it was good times. There are no words for the wonderfulness that is Mary Kay Seminar. I want you to try to imagine General Conference, Miss America, Broadway musical, and Academy Awards all rolled up in to one. Really it is amazing and that's not to even mention all of the silliness that happens when we are all hanging out in our hotel rooms.

My roommates Holly and Shari helping Noelle get ready before the big awards night.

You probably recognize this Amy girl.

Riding the Limo to awards night.

Noelle and me

This is Julianne. She is our national and all the super-cool things I get to do are because of her. She and I are in Mary Kay's personal office.

Wearing Mary Kay's glasses. These were the ones she wore just before she died and not to disrespect the honored Mary Kay, but she was just shy of bat vision.

This is my Laurie friend, a girl named Gillian, Amy friend and me. That Kesk made an observation about my photos. If you look closely you will notice that in all of my photos the girls with the hottest hair are Amy and me. With the exception of maybe Julianne, but she had an internationl makeup artist doing her hair the whole week, and on awards night she looked like a freaking rock star. The Gillian girl in that photo has million dollar hair and it's not as fantastic as Amy's and my hair. The common demominator...Amy and I have the same genius hairdresser. You only get one guess as to whom that may be. I'll give you a hint: it starts with K and ends in esk.

Shelly, Amy, and me

This one I love. On the last day a bunch of us went to Spaghetti Warehouse in the West End of Dallas. We had a mirror right above our very heads.

While it was the the greatest trip ever, (that is until Kesk and I go to NY to see Wicked in October) it was kind of good to get back home. I missed many people but the person I think missed me most was Hank:

This has pretty much been my life since I got back. I honestly can't shake him. While it is sweet and cute, it was a lot sweeter and cuter before he weighed 15 lbs.

Scurvy and Polyg Night Too

2009-07-26T01:02:00.006-06:00

Lately I've been craving grapefruit. I never liked it in my whole life, but all of a sudden I cannot get enough of it. Seriously, I have like 20 of them in my fridge. I'm pretty sure my body is trying to fight off the scurvy. I had problems with the scurvy back in my pirating days. So, I usually eat my grapefruit with some stevia and cinnamon. It sounds weird, but when was the last time you ate something with cinnamon that you didn't love? Tonight I think I did a terrible thing. That terrible thing is called brown sugar. I thought to myself, "Self, what goes good with cinnamon?" Brown sugar is the answer. I thought maybe it would be gross, but in the name of science and the Food Network, I felt I must try. You know, take one for the team. Now I just wish they made brown sugar stevia.
These next photos are just because I like them. I couldn't think of a good blog only about them, so I'm sticking them in with the grapefruit. This is me and my Randy friend. We were at a barbecue. He belongs to my Amy friend.

Speak of the devil:One of my most favorite things about Amy and Randy is polyg night. Usually Polyg night just consists of a movie and a Macey's twist ice cream cone, or playing a board game, or something innocuous like that. However, we did have a polyg night in Wendover once. Mostly, the best thing about Amy and Randy is that I love their very guts. Look at those faces...who wouldn't?

The Nerve

2009-07-23T21:47:00.004-06:00

I tell you what, that Kesk girl is always asking me to do the most unsavory of things for her. For example, today she had the nerve to ask me to snuggle this for 2 hours:

If that wasn't bad enough, when Rox woke up I had to deal with this kind of awfulness:
It's a good thing that I'm such a good friend, because if there's one thing I hate it's holding delightful, sleeping babies that wake up so happy to see me that they giggle when they realize who's holding them. It's rough.

Rain, Rain, Go Away...

2009-06-20T17:26:00.002-06:00

I mean it...GO AWAY!

Reincarnation

2009-06-08T23:35:00.000-06:00

I was watching TV today and saw one of those very sad commercials where the animals are sad and owie and Sarah McLachlan is telling everyone to give money for all the sad animals in the world. I looked over at Hank and saw this:

It occurred to me in that moment that if I could be any animal in the world, I'd pick my cat hands down.

Maybe if I'm good enough in this life I can be my cat in the next. I think that's how it works.

Roxie and the Three Pound Poop

2009-06-07T20:43:00.005-06:00

I know a very small girl who had a very large problem. Her problem was that she was always way too busy to go potty. A few weeks ago at Grammie’s house Roxie apparently couldn’t hold it anymore and told me that she needed to go potty. That got my attention speedy quick because she was sitting on my lap. I am very aware that in most cases if she’s asking to go potty, we are probably already in the danger zone because she probably needed to go half an hour ago. I’m also always a little concerned about my own time when she asks to go potty, because Roxie is a prolific recreational pooper. I truly believe she thinks the potty is her throne and she reins over all the land from it. She will sit on the potty for indefinite amounts of time long after she is done going potty. This one particular day I decided that I had a good hour before I need to go home, so I took her to the potty. Upstairs in the potty room there is a digital scale that Roxie must weigh on every time she goes in that place. She always hops on it before she gets on the potty. This particular day it read 30 lbs. I didn’t pay too much attention because I was trying to maneuver her Elmo under ware off of her and sit her on the big potty in such a way that her tiny hiney didn’t fall through. Fast forward half an hour and princess Roxie announces that she is finished so I, her loyal subject, must help her wipe and get her off the potty. As I’m wrestling her Elmo undies back on her bum she hops back onto the scale. Only this time it read 27 lbs. I made her weigh 3 times to be sure. That small child managed a 3 pound poop. I have to admit that I was truly amazed and not a little impressed.

Best Hair Ever

2009-05-28T20:22:00.004-06:00

On Monday I got the cutest hair ever from that Kesk. I wish you could have seen it in person, 'cause it was the most wonderful of hair days. I've not since been able to recreate this exact wonderfulness, 'cause I'm not Kesk, but it is still my favoritest hair I've ever had. My 8th graders think it's great, and if they like it, it must be true because 8th graders don't like too much of anything.

Rockstar

2009-05-23T20:54:00.007-06:00

Someone, who shall remain nameless--HILLYERIE--said that I am in big trouble because I haven't been blogging. To that I say, "Fine! I hope you are happy now."

This is what I've decided...I think that everyone needs someone who makes them feel like a rockstar. While I have many friends whom I love and whom love me, the one person that always makes me feel like a rockstar is only two: I think that the fact that she's only two is why she makes me feel like a rockstar. She is not inhibited in anyway and she makes it very clear how she feels.

For example: Today I was in Sandy all day and I decided to go by that zoo because I missed the zoo keeper and all the animals. When I walked through that door, Roxie greeted me like I might be Ed McMan with a big million dollar check. The only person that might have been more excited was the dog. His excitement, however, is not my favorite as it involves loud barking. To be fair, the Monkey and the Zebra are always excellent squeelers of joy when I come. I guess the only difference is that Rox is just the most persistent in her exuberence. With her, the happiness doesn't stop after I come through the door. Pretty much anytime she or I leave the room and come back into the room, even if it is only 2 minutes later, I think she forgets I'm there, so when she realizes I'm there, she acts like she hasn't seen me for months. Today I went into the bathroom to change my clothes from my heels and skirt and she stood outside the door talking to me and telling me stories until I came out. Lest you believe that the good times are over once I've been there a few minutes, Rox promptly leaps into my arms and there she stays (mostly). Even if she wanders away, she always manages to find her way back to my lap after a few minutes. You can probably guess how much I hate that. My favorite today was when I went and ran some errands with all of the zoo. Any time we got out of the car, she insisted that I hold her hand. Anyone else was welcome to hold the other hand, but I had to be attached to at least one of her tiny arms. How do you not feel like a rockstar with that kind of treatment, I ask you? Even when I don't think I'm all that great, Rox does and sometimes that's enough.

Only 9 Days Left...

2009-05-19T23:03:00.003-06:00

I don't know how many of you know what it's like the last couple of weeks of school in a junior high, but let's play a pretend game of what it might be like. You might walk into your room and find a baby doll duct taped to your wall above the white board. It might look something like this:

Apparently, in Teen Living they have to carry baby dolls around all week so they will keep their clothes on and not get a real one. This one came with a ransom note and her mother picked her up during 8th period. People wonder why I teach junior high all the time and I tell you, THIS is why. This kind of stuff cracks me up. I don't think my sense of humor has developed much above theirs. I've made my peace with that.

Wardrobe Malfunction

2009-05-09T21:52:00.004-06:00

This one time...okay, so it was tonight...I was at the Asian Star restaurant. I don't know if you know about this place, but it is in Sandy and it's fancy enough to have valet parking. Lest you think I am fancy, I was not there to eat. I was actually there with my Mary Kay friend, Deanna, giving out samples for Mother's Day and entering people into a drawing for a $200 basket. It was pretty much packed and without a reservation, you were not eating there tonight. At one point there was a bit of a lull in the evening and I was standing in the foyer area talking to that Deanna when all of a sudden she has this look on her face:
Why would Deanna all of a sudden make such a face, you ask? I wondered that too until I looked down and saw that my skirt was not on my hips, but instead, hanging out down around my ankles. I have never been more embarrassed in my life and I don't know as I ever will be that embarrassed again. Plus, also, there is no graceful way out of that situation. I just bent down and pulled it back up. My Deanna friend, who tells me she is 30-20 years old, told me (after peeling herself off of the floor) that it was officially the funniest moment of her whole entire life. When I look back upon it, funny is not the first word I think of.

Hillyerie, This Blog's For You

2009-04-24T22:35:00.001-06:00

Faces

2009-04-20T14:22:00.000-06:00

On Saturday I had a fun outing with Aunt Kaye. We, in the past, have loved to travel the land in search of treasures. The kind of treasures that are in and/or around old, abandoned houses. I have many of these treasures in my home. (Like that chair I balance on in order to change light bulbs.) So, we headed south on one of these expeditions and stopped in every tiny town from here to Manti. These are some of the faces I ran into:This little guy doesn't actually have a face. It all melted away in the 60 degree weather. I don't feel one bit sad about that. He might have been Frosty the Snowman for all I know, and I still don't feel sad. Even if the children did say, "he could laugh and play just the same as you and me."

This face almost ate my hand off trying to get that carrot.

On the way home we decided to go through Nephi, Mona, and Santaquin to get home. I saw my Krista friend in Nephi, My Natalie friend in Mona, and this rag-tag group in Santaquin:

Some of you are probably familiar with these people. I had to drop off something to that house, and lucky for me I did. Auntie and I were on our way to the Wildflower Grill for dinner and it just so happens they were in need of sustenance as well. How convenient for us all. It was the perfect end to a perfect day.

Plumber's Apprentice

2009-04-16T16:49:00.003-06:00

I don't know how many of you remember my post about the Ikea Plumber, but I'm pretty sure I ran across his apprentice:

Ashamed

2009-04-14T15:19:00.002-06:00

I am terribly embarrassed and ashamed too. On my one blog about the light bulb changing, I noticed that I put an apostrophe where it doesn't belong. One of my biggest pet peeves in the world is when people put apostrophes where they have no business. The title says, "How many Shan's does it take to change a light bulb." I would just edit it and take that apostrophe out, only it's too late to pretend it never happened. I hope you all can still love me and respect me despite that grievous error.

Plus, also, I'm super-shocked that Kesk didn't call me on it. Either you're slacking, Kesk, or you are too good of a friend to embarrass me about it.

Bawl Baby

2009-04-13T19:10:00.014-06:00

I'm beginning to wonder about myself. Some of you may have been wondering about me for years. Well, I'm just getting around to it and this is what I'm wondering: why on earth am I turning into a big bawl baby? Is it because I'm becoming less calloused in my old age? It could be hormones, only I'm pretty sure I've had them my whole life. Maybe it's my punishment for hating romantic comedies all these years. What ever it is, I'm not in love with it. I have been in denial that it is a problem until today and I can't deny it any more. I've been toodling around the house cleaning and organizing and mostly wandering from room to room wondering why I went in there in the first place. Having lived by myself forever, I like to have the TV on for company a lot. The Simpsons came on and I really didn't pay too much attention to it at first. It was one that I've seen many times. Homer and Marge are telling Lisa and Bart about how Homer was so upset about baby Maggie being born because he had to quit his dream job at the bowling ally. At the end, when Homer gets a look at that little baby Maggie he falls in love with her and goes back to the nuclear power plant. Lisa asks Homer why, if he loves Maggie so much, there aren't any photos of her in the family photo album. He tells her he has them where he needs them most. Then it show his office place and plastered all over the walls are photos of that little Maggie. I cried. Who in their right mind cries at the Simpsons? That plaque used to say "Don't forget, you're here forever." Sometimes that Homer gets it right.

On a happier non-bawly note. I ran into a bunch of zoo animals and their zoo keepers at the mall on Saturday. I didn't actually run into them so much as I went there specifically to see them.

Did you know that Zebras happen to love french fries?

This little animal loves her chicken...

...and lettuce, and pretty much everything on her and everyone else's plate. She may look small, but she can really pack it away.

A pizza eating monkey.

One of the zoo keepers making nice with one of the animals. I had a photo of the other zoo keeper named Bubba, only he told me I couldn't post it because he was opening his mouth huger than huge to put food in it. I will improvise and use a body double: I hope he is happy that he didn't let me use the photo I wanted to.

Zebra likes to dance with mannequins. I don't have anything else to say about that. I think the photo says enough.

Plus, also, I have a shoe problem, but it is not contained to only myself. I have always had a problem with wanting to buy shoes for all the above mentioned animals. It is Spring time and that means summer is next and that means they need summer shoes. Christian got some sandals, Ashton chose some pretty amazing green flip flops, and Roxie chose these:

It really doesn't get any sweeter than that.

This photo just makes me laugh because this is after we tried on her new shoes and put her old socks and shoes back on. Only, silly me, I thought she'd carry around her new shoes until I could pay for them. She had other plans. She wore them out of the store and we didn't even have to put her on the counter and scan her feet.

I think I'll go find something else to cry about. Like maybe mean old House. He's on TV right now. I bet that Lynne is watching because that's what she does.

How Many Shan's Does it Take to Change a Light Bulb?...

2009-04-08T16:04:00.005-06:00

...It only takes one, but she has to be very tricky.

My house has very tall ceilings. I'm not sure how tall exactly. What I do know is that they are tall enough that a chair is not even close to good enough when a light bulb needs changing. A couple of days ago a light bulb in my bathroom burned out. Unfortunately, the bathroom is one of those places that you need to have all the light you can get so that when you put your makeup on, you don't look like Tammy Faye Bakker when you are done. If you didn't grow up in North Carolina with the Bakkers, or if you happen to not have spent a lot of time in the 80s watching tele-evangelists, then here is a photo to illustrate my point:Nobody wants to look like that. So, I'm faced with the dilemma of how to change the light bulb. You might say, "Use a ladder. What are you, daft?" To you I'd say that I don't have one. So, I'm pondering my dilemma when I see my brand new Ikea table. I've got to put it to good use now that I have it. I drag that thing into the bathroom, thinking how smart I am, and once I had it situated exactly where I wanted it, I looked at my work and this is what I saw:

I have to tell you that I laughed right out loud. The kind of laugh that even though you are all alone, you still look around to see if anyone is listening because it is embarrassing how loud you just laughed. I think this is what you do if you are serious enough about your eating that you don't want to take a potty break.

Even though this may not be best light bulb changing option, it sure beats what I used to do:

Queston...

2009-04-06T17:30:00.003-06:00

Are glue sticks supposed to be moldy? I didn't even know that was a possibility.

I'm Over It

2009-04-05T12:18:00.004-06:00

Thanks Lynne for your "there, there" yesterday. I think I was just at my whit's end with the last week and a half of sleep deprivation because of my shoulder, and that little dog just pushed me right over the edge. I'm over it. On a happier note, look at my new shoes I got yesterday:

A good pair of shoes makes everything feel better. I'll have to admit, however, that these shoes are even more fabulous with little Miss Rox's feet in them. Regrettably, I don't have a photo. I went by that Kesk zoo yesterday because while I was out and about I found a pair of socks that I believed that Monkey girl could not live one more day without. Then, there was this "pretty, pretty dress" as Rox says, that I didn't know if she could live without. And then of course, the Zebra boy might need a cute, new pair of shorts for that blessed day when the sun shines and it is warm every day. The only thing happier than buying myself new shoes, might be buying them new stuff because they are always so excited and so grateful. They immediately strip off the clothing they are currently wearing and put on the new stuff. It's happiness, I tell you.

Bone to Pick

2009-04-04T08:55:00.016-06:00

Last night I had my first big outing since surgery. I went to pick up a couple of cds from a friend of mine in Highland. It felt so good to get out. Upon my return home there was a little dog at my door. This dog to be exact:

Her name is Daisy. She's a sweet puppy, but silly, silly me thought she'd have the good sense to go back to her home. That's exactly what I thought she'd done until 2:00 a.m. when she started barking, whining, and scratching my solid, knotty alder door. At this point I realize she's probably lost, only what do you do about it at 2:00 a.m.? I didn't want to let her in because she was a little neurotic and I knew she and Hank would make each other crazy and that translates in me wanting to beat them both. I also didn't want to take the chance of her going potty on the floor. Sure, I could lock her in the bathroom, but then I've got her barking, whining, and scratching my knotty alder bathroom door all night, and that would be lots louder. In short, I didn't sleep last night. Neither did Hank. Not that I care if he slept or not, because about 20 hours of his day is usually spent sleeping. Here's what he did all night:
I called Daisy's owner this morning and she came to get her. Apparently, she was only one street away from her house and I realized I wasn't dealing with the sharpest pup in the litter. However, now I'm grumpy and sleep deprived and I have a bone to pick with you cat haters of the world. I get a lot of guff from people who say things like, "the only good cat is a dead cat", or think maybe the only use for a cat is to torture it. I don't hate dogs and even if I did, I wouldn't tell people that I think their dog should be dead or tortured. Here's what I know about my cat experiences vs. my dog experiences. Keep in mind, I've owned plenty of both.

Like a dog, my cat greets me at the door every single day when I get home. He also comes when I call him about 90% of the time. Unless you have a super-trained dog, I don't know as you're odds are a lot better for a dog. My cat snuggles and purrs and is really quite good company. He never smells and is actually really clean all of the time. Dogs, on the other hand, stink. Period. End of story. If you try to tell me you don't have a stinky dog, then you are just used to his/her smell, you bathe your dog several times a week, or you are lying. My kitty doesn't whine or cry or beg. It's rare I hear a meow out of him at all. I can leave my cat home alone over night and I don't have to worry about chewed up property or cleaning up pee and poop because there was no one to let him out. He doesn't bark at or try to attack people when they knock at the door. In fact, unless you happen to have someone with you under 4 feet tall when you come to my house, after a few minutes, he's actually quite friendly to company. (He used to like little kids too, but he's had more than his fair share of little people chasing him, pulling his tail, and carrying him around by the neck.) I'm not trying to tell you that cats are perfect. There have been times when I've wanted to drop kick my cat across the room when he's playing in the blinds, using the couch as a scratching post, or incessantly snatching tampons to play with. For those of you that want to use the whole loyalty argument, my cat loves me better than anyone and 10 times out of 10 will pick me over anyone or anything else. I also think that, generally speaking, I've probably got an above-average cat and have always been lucky when it comes to my cats. What I am trying to say is that I think cats are a lot quieter, neater, and cleaner than dogs, and do not deserve the mean, hostile feelings some people have for them. Plus, also, I read and absolutely loved Marley and Me but that only further proves my point. In short, unless you have been brutally attacked and injured by a cat (which, by the way, dogs do every day) I'm not really interested in hearing your mean comments about them.

P.S. Inkey, it just occurred to me that you might think this is directed at you, but it's not. I'm just bitter about my dog barking, scratching, whining sleepless night and needed to get that off of my chest for cat lovers everywhere. I love your very cat-hating guts.

Kitty Abuse

2009-04-02T22:41:00.004-06:00

Cabin fever has officially set in. Earlier tonight I was minding my own business and it began to rain. I know, the nerve, right? I decided that I'd like to open my door and take a look at that rain and breathe in some fresh air. Once I opened the door and I saw how hard it truly was raining, I got this one evil thought. I know two things for sure about my cat: 1. He loves to run outside as fast as he can when he gets the chance because he knows it's naughty. 2. Water (what that is not in his bowl) is public enemy number 1 in his book. My one evil thought was this: If I pretend to not be watching him very closely, he will run like a cat out of hell into the pouring rain and that will be funny for me. I was correct. That was sooooooo funny for me because he ran out and got only a few feet into the rain and freaked out. Only he wasn't sure where to run to get away from the wetness because it was everywhere and he was not about to run back into the house and be humiliated by his failed escape attempt. I laughed and laughed and laughed. Only in my haste to torture my cat I didn't factor in this:
I wish I could tell you that I didn't deserve all the brown kitty prints he left as he raced back into the house and stepped on EVERYTHING. Only in the end, I still got the last laugh because Hank had to have a bath.

I'm in need of some human contact. For Hank's sake.

Two Things

2009-04-01T19:34:00.016-06:00

I know two things this day:

1. I went to the doctor and we had a good visit about my pitiful arm. I actually told him that we were not friends anymore and that he should be ashamed wearing such a bright, happy tropical shirt when I'm doing my best to be mad at him. He laughed because I don't think he took me seriously. His nice medical assistant lady took out my 3 baby stitches and told me it all looked great. That's funny, because it doesn't FEEL great. Mr. Tropical Shirt Doctor Guy came back into the room and sidled himself right up next to me on the table so he could show me all my photos and tell me about them. He just plopped himself down like we were old friends about to look over some photos of the cruise we went on together last fall. He was starting to grow on me and I found it harder to be mad at him. Basically, my shoulder was really owie, but in a good way. He did have to clean out jacked-up cartilage and shave some bone off, but there was no damage that he couldn't fix me up good as new. He assured me that when I saw him next, I'd be bringing him cookies because I'd be sooooooo glad he inflicted all this pain. We'll have to see about that. What I am looking forward to is the arm wrestling contest he promised me on my next visit. Apparently, if I can beat him when I go back in 5 weeks, then I'm all better and I don't have to go back any more. I hope he wears one of those t-shirts that makes it look like you are all muscley when we arm wrestle.

2. I also know that I am not appreciative of "Touched by an Angel" on this day. I'm guessing you all remember the show that used to be filmed in Utah. The storyline is the same for all the shows: Someone is sad, or mad, or hurt, and the angels come and show them how to make peace with God and that He loves them. It's on the Hallmark Channel every morning. I'm personally a fan of this show because I get the warm fuzzies every time I watch it and "7th Heaven". This morning, however, they took it too far. It was about a kid named Petey that was dying. He had a single mom (Wynona Judd) and a cute little best friend. He made a list of things to get done before he died and of course they were all wonderful, thoughtful things not for himself, but for his mom and friend. He wanted his mom to finish writing a song she started when he was born, his friend to meet Celine Dion, a flag in his yard telling the angels where to find him when he died, and several other things for his mom. The last 2 minutes of the show, his mom had finished that song and everybody he knew was in his yard singing it to him as his little friend raised the flag that said, "Petey lives here." And wouldn't you know it, he took that very minute to die and I cried and cried and I'm very angry with those Touched by an Angel people. If I wanted to be depressed and cry all the day I'd have watched "Little House on the Prairie" or maybe The Notebook.

This is Petey. Only don't get too attached, because he's dead. Nobody told me ahead of time to not get too attached.

Those are the 2 things I know this day.

The Anatomy of Shoulder Surgery

2009-03-30T22:28:00.017-06:00

So, I'm alive. Only just barely. I wasn't even sure about that until earlier this evening. The last 4 days went something like this:

I had to be at American Fork Hospital at 10:00 a.m. on Thursday. I was extremely hungry but I hardly noticed because I had to go potty so badly. Life was much happier after that sterile plastic cup and I had some time together in the bathroom. After a potty break I got to get all dolled up in some fancy thigh highs:
Then they asked me to give them permission to knock me out, cut me up, and leave me much worse off than I was when I arrived. I happily agreed:

This is one of my anesthesiologists...I believe he is in the witness protection program.

Of course, they have to poke you:

This is my very own Dr. Wells. He's a nice guy. Plus, that nurse in the background was really happy. I'm glad someone so jovial was in my operating room perking that place up a bit.

They also gave me a nerve block in my neck to make my shoulder and arm feel dead for several hours. It's pretty much an epidural for my arm. I don't have any photos because it weirded Aunt Kaye out too much and I don't believe she had the presence of mind to take photos of it. Apparently, one wrong move and they puncture your lung or do some permanent damage because of all the nerves that go straight to your head. The nerve block procedure was my first tip off that this was not going to be a pleasure to recover from. My Amy friend's mom had a shoulder scope one week earlier and did wonderfully. I decided that I would have that same experience. Only too bad for me...

My second tip off that this was not going to be my favorite was when I woke up and threw up for a few hours. I never felt so sick. When I stopped with the throwing up and came to my senses, a nice nurse man named Larry came and told me all about my pain pump. (This was the third tip off, 'cause I've never even heard of a pain pump you take home until that minute.)It lived in my sling and hooked up directly into my wound. It gave me a constant drip of pain numbing goodness, and I could also push a button and get an extra shot of it every half hour. FYI, if you ever go to the doctor and he wants to give you a nerve block and a pain pump, you should probably leave speedy quick because he is up to no good, I tell you.

I also had a Polar Care thingy. That is the blue thing with the number 1 on it in this photo:
It is my favorite parting gift they gave me when I left. It wraps around your afflicted body part and is connected to a cooler with an electric pump. It constantly pumps ice water over your owie.

Hank is not pleased with this whole situation because his perch of preference is on my chest. He's liked to sleep there since he was a kitten, only now he feels terribly displaced:

He wouldn't even sleep on the rug to make me feel a little less sad about his life. He went straight to the cement. Kids innately know what to do to make you feel the most guilty.

On Sunday a nurse came to my home and removed my pain pump. I did not know how in love I was with that pump until about 3 a.m. this morning. I'm glad that the Hallmark channel plays Golden Girls most of the night because I was too owie to do any actual sleeping. The good news about the pain pump removal was that the bandages came off and I could shower. Here's a peek of under the bandages:
Apparently, my doctor believes he is also an artist. Or at least a topographer because that looks suspiciously like a map on my shoulder. I know for sure he believes he is a photographer because he took lots of photos of what the inside of my shoulder looked like.

This is what happy healthy cartilage looks like. Nice and smooth and white. I'm not sure where this is located in my shoulder, but I think it's pretty. Then there's this:

That is a big old hunk of cartilage hanging down amongst some more really jacked up cartilage. I honestly don't know how I did that to myself, but I'd hate to think what I could do if I was trying.

That's the long and short of it. What I would like to mention is all of the people that have helped me the last several days. Auntie Kaye took me to the hospital and waited for me and held the tub while I threw up. That's love, I tell you. Then my Amy friend let me spend the night at her house that night. Also, many others had to help me because I was not totally prepared for the recovery phase. I really thought that this was not going to be so big of a deal. I've had my knee scoped and I survived that quite well. I was not anticipating lying on the couch on Friday afternoon and literally not able to get up to do anything for myself. It was a really scary feeling. I called up my Kristen friend that lives here in town and she totally hooked me up. She couldn't get away from work that minute, but within 20 minutes of me calling her in near hysteria, her friend, Cheryl came over with food. I hardly even met this lady before, but she was sure an angel of mercy that day. She also came back on Sunday and brought me ice for my polar care pump, homemade chili, soup, and bread. Just because she's nice. That really touched my heart. Kristen came on Saturday and brought me food and visited for a while. A teacher friend/lady in my ward came on Sunday with some homemade brownies and movies. Lori came Sunday night and spent the night. Auntie came back today with enchilada casserole, and my Nan friend called several times to make sure I was alive. Plus, Laurie called a few times and Hillyerie texted me even though she's been helping her own curly headed animal recover from having her tonsils taken out. Then today my very own Kesk came by and brought me those 3 sweet zoo animals I love so much. Nobody can feel sad with that kind of cuteness around. Pretty much, I am so blessed to have so many people care about me.

One more thing...have any of you ever woken up from a drugged induced near coma to this?...

Grumpy Bum

2009-03-23T21:25:00.003-06:00

I had to pull out the angry eyes again. The culprit:
Sure it looks harmless enough. You may even think cute with that photo of those three zoo animals on it. However, it has caused me over 3 hours of anguish. I keep having problems with the cord that charges it. I've replaced it and I tell you it is at no small price. $89 of no small price to be exact. However, either the cord or the computer has a short in it and if you don't hold it just right, it doesn't connect and then it doesn't charge the battery. This evening I was minding my own business and it decided not to work at all. It got angry with me and told me that it only had 5% of the battery and if I didn't plug it in then too bad for me because no computer. I jiggled it, and jiggled it, and jiggled it. Usually it works by about the 2nd jiggle. Not tonight, I tell you. I started feeling panicky and decided the only thing to do was to shake it and yell at it, and beat that cord because that always helps.
This table is supposed to look a little ratty and beaten, but that one hole was a casualty. I finally got in the car and drove to Orem to get a new cord. Beings as I live in inner outer Mongolia, that was no small drive. 25 minutes each way, in fact. I spent another $89 on that cord and brought it back home. I was feeling confident enough that it would work. Confident enough that I stopped in to this new shoe place next door to Best Buy called Shoe Carnival. It's brand new and has all manner of cute shoes. I did not buy, but I did lust. When I got home I opened up the new cord and guess what. It did not work. I was in all manners of despair and decided that I'd try to shut it down and just hope for the best. I had not tried that before, because I feared if I did, that'd be the end and all of my photos and documents on the computer would be lost forever. I shut it down and lo and behold, it worked. Apparently, the problem was not a cord problem, but the screen got froze with that meany message about the not charging. I wanted to laugh and cry but mostly I wanted to save everything on my computer to a thumb drive for safe keeping. So I did. The end.

Career Conference

2009-03-22T09:34:00.011-06:00

I've been blog AWOL for a week, but I've been boring for a week.

This very yesterday I went to my Mary Kay Career Conference. Let's just get the bling out of the way right off the bat. MK is a firm believer in lavishing with jewels. I'm not opposed to this philosophy. Here are the two jewelries I earned:
This necklace is made of pearls and something else what that I don't remember but it's sparkly and pretty.This I got just because. They also are firm believers in randomly giving away lots of stuff. I hope you are prepared for the bling that follows:

Those are not pretend diamonds. They are real and I don't even know how many karats there are between those two rings. More than 1 and fewer than 10. What I do know is that they brought over $100,000 worth of diamonds for us to try on and play with. I'm not opposed to earning one of those things. I used to think that those kinds of rings, dripping with diamonds, were gaudy. After feeling the wondrous weight of all those karats on my finger, I believe that I only thought that because I never had any. It would not hurt my feelers at all to own a gaudy jewelery such as that. (And, yes, that is lunch meat behind my bedazzled hand. It was a dinner I earned after Career Conference and that's were the rings were for me to play with.)

Mostly career conference was about training and fun. It was held in the E-Center to accommodate all the hundreds of women who attended. There was no assigned seating, so I want you to picture this: Hundreds of women, all dolled up in skirts and high heels, waiting at the doors. Did I say waiting because I meant surging at those doors waiting to get in and get a good seat on the floor and not higher up in the arena. The the poor security man gave us the go ahead and he only narrowly escaped a sure death of trampling by stiletto as all those women full out ran into that place to secure seats. It beats anything I've ever seen.
I included this shoe to show you what manner of shoes were running into the arena, but mostly I included it for Hillyerie. I don't think she ever met a shoe she didn't love. She has a shoe problem.

I also earned a special luncheon on Saturday:

All the other millions of people that didn't earn this fancy lunch had to fend for themselves around town. Only too bad for them, because this was delicious and I didn't have to pay for it.

This was my name badge with all of my flair. I don't know how many of you saw the movie, Office Space, but if you did you know about flair. I got a ribbon for all the cool stuff I did. Some women had ribbons a-go-go but I didn't do to badly myself.

This is just some of my MK friends and me waiting for the show to begin.

In short, a good time was had by all.

Saturday...the loveliest of all the days

2009-03-15T00:39:00.010-06:00

Today was a perfect Saturday. I slept until forever and then lounged around the house until I was good and ready to shower. I left my house around 11:30 in the a.m. and headed out to Spanish Fork. My school friend, Mary, just had a baby and that Amy girl and I told her we'd love to come and see him today. Only Amy and her phone are not best friends and she let it die and I couldn't get a hold of her. Lucky for me, she lives close to that Mary and I just dropped by unannounced. However, Much to my chagrin, we couldn't see the baby because he is all yellow like a daffodil and has to lay in lights all the time. I love Mary, but I told her I'd not bother to come and see her if I couldn't hold the baby. She understood and told me so.

With the day before us, Amy and I decided to head to Ikea because lo, and behold, they finally had my chairs in and my table has been lonely without them. Now, for the moment you've all held vigil waiting for: In order to really appreciate the wonderfulness of this chair, I will give you a closer look at that cushion:

The color isn't so good, but it's pink with polka dots and flowers. They cost as much as the chair, but was I supposed to do, I ask you?

Of course, Hank was the first one to try out their cushiony goodness.

This is the first supper ever eaten on my new table. Amy and I brought the food home and then had to put the chairs together before we could sit down to eat it. That's some motivation for speedy quickness. FYI, if you ever find yourself in Payson, USA and you have a grumbly tummy, I'd go to the Wildflower Grill. Those are homemade fries you are looking at. Like they were actual not frozen ever potatoes just moments before being cooked. The only drawback to the Wildflower Grill is that you can actually hear your arteries slamming shut as you eat it. Sometimes that is a small price to pay for homemade potatoes.

Amy and I finished off my perfect Saturday watching Beaches. I love that Bette Midler. In fact, for all of you that have been up at night wondering what wonderful thing you could do for Shan, I highly recommend tickets to see Bette Midler in Vegas. Next to my trip to NYC to see Wicked with Kesk in October, it's my wildest dream come true. I'll be sure and act surprised when you show up to whisk me away to the concert.

Duck, Duck...

2009-03-13T19:48:00.010-06:00

Yesterday at school Amy says to me, "You need to come to my house and look at my new shelves Johnny made for me. (Only his name is really Randy and only she can call him Johnny.) They still need to be painted and you can help." She said that last part in a way that only Tom Sawyer could say it to make it sound fun. She didn't fool me, but I love her very guts and I really did want to see the shelves her Johnny-on-the-spot made.

Only this... I got to her house and she was not in it. She was across the street and she told me to come and see the ducks. Perhaps she was mistaken. She's no farm girl and she lives in town homes what that don't have duck accommodations. I guess you don't have to have duck accommodations in order to have actual ducks:

This duck friend hung out in my hoodie.

This is Kisen. Only I don't think you spell his name that way. He is the owner of the ducks.

I think they are a little confused about feeding time.

If these were my ducks, I'd name them Frankie and Mack, I believe.

I finally got around to helping Amy with her shelves:

My help was more of the moral kind and less of the physical kind.

Wendover Will

2009-03-10T18:52:00.003-06:00

It was brought to my attention that I failed to blog about how I spent my Friday night this past weekend. I took my first trip to Wendover. I've always heard that that place is a pit and only drunk, white trashy people go there. Boy were they wrong. There were drunk, white trashy people but there was also me. Actually, there were 4 of us classing up the place. I took a most fabulous photo of "Wendover Will", only it was super windy and super cold and I was shaking a lot and it came out all blurry. I took about 10 blurry photos and one not blurry one and I accidently erased the not blurry one. I'm not sure what my new good friend Will is pointing at...maybe where to go to get some good Chinese food.
This most wonderous of weekends was brought to me by my Amy and Randy friends. Amy and I teach together and I only see her about 8 days a week and we are the Cool Kid Club founders of the Mt. Nebo Jr. High chapter.
As you can see from outside the car, the weather was not a pleasure when we left.This is Randy's big head. That was pretty much my view for the whole drive there and back. I sure love his big, fuzzy head.

Also, a boy named Gavin went with us. He's Randy's good time friend from a long time ago. I do not have a photo of Gavin because I thought it would be a little stalkerie to request the photo of a total stranger on our first outing together. Maybe I should just go to his house and sit and wait for him to get home so I can get a picture of him as he walks from his truck to his door. Or maybe I can get his picture as he walks past an open window. He probably wouldn't think that was creepy even a little bit.

We got home from Wendover at 4:30 a.m. If I were Hillyerie, I'd be waking up right about then to do a post on my blog. I believe that when she sets her alarm clock for on blog days.

Table Talk

2009-03-09T21:09:00.004-06:00

This very day I went to Ikea with my Auntie Kaye. She was in need of a thingy to put her TV in and I wasn't in need of anything....that is until I got into that place. I was shocked at all of the things I couldn't live without. My whole life has been empty and I didn't even know it. In order to fill that aching void in my life I bought a little table to put in my kitchen/living room area. Conveniently enough, it will also fill the void in my kitchen.

I've been sitting on my couch and eating off of my coffee table all this time. I don't drink coffee, but I figured the coffee table police would forgive me for misusing their table.

So, for only $60 I found the table of my dreams. Okay, that's an exaggeration, but I did find a decent one that was small enough to fit in that very small space. In case you didn't know, Ikea doesn't give you their furniture all nice and neatly put together as furniture should be. You have to do it yourself. Lucky for me, I'm good at that kind of thing and I like to do it. Don't make the mistake of thinking I did it all by myself, though. I had plenty of help...

First, Hank checked to make sure I had all the right tools:

Then he carefully counted all of the screws and such to make sure I had enough to do the job.

After a lot of kitty sweat, here's my new table:

Plus, also, I hope you enjoy that witch broom in the background. You never know when you need to make a quick getaway.

Here is what my kitchen looks like with the void filled. I'm getting two cute black chairs, too. Only they were out of them, so now I can't sit at my table yet and I still have to use the coffee table.

All that work sure made Hank progressively tired. These next photos I took just a couple of minutes ago. You can see this very post I'm working on in the background.

Angry Eyes

2009-03-02T20:48:00.002-07:00

What would cause me to pull out my angry eyes, you ask? Shoulder surgery on March 26th. Sooner if there is an opening. The end.

Out of the Closet

2009-02-27T21:35:00.006-07:00

I constantly have this fight with myself about the clothes in my closet. Some of them are so old and ratty that I'm not sure they are fit to wash my cat's bum with, much less wear in public. I am not a hoarder, and to be honest I get downright giddy when I sort and throw things away. So this closet business makes me crazy. I've decided that I just need to make my peace with it and this is why:

This is my favorite black skirt. It is a skirt that I inherited from my Inkey friend. That's not her name, but for reasons that are starting to become fuzzy to me, that's what I call her. She and I were mission companions in Los Angeles, plus, also, roommates after plus, also, I love her very guts to this day even though she bailed on me and moved to St. George. This skirt is no less than 11 years old, but I wear it at least 3 times a week. Every Sunday and for at least 2 Mary Kay functions. You cannot see, but the thread is unraveling from the elastic, the hem has fallen out in a couple of places, and it has a discolored spot you can see on the bottom left that is lighter than the rest of the skirt.

This sweatshirt is also from my Inkey friend. It doesn't fit anymore, and as you can see, I have painted many things while in that thing. Every color has a memory for me. I tend to be the kind of girl that only gets excited about physical labor when it involves getting to spend time with someone I love. I'll happily shovel rocks all day long as long as you are there with me. Tell me to do that same chore all by myself, and you may not be in love with the response I give you. So, all of those paint splotches are memories of relationships I've built over a can of paint.

This is my religious shirt. I put something black inside of it so you can see how "holy" it is. Inkey also gave me this shirt, only I believe I keep it around to see just how long I can wear it before it literally disintegrates. I sleep in that thing 3 or 4 nights a weeks. Every time I wash it, I wonder if it is the last.

These are shoes I bought while I was on my mission. They are also 11 years old, and I still wear them. Maybe I shouldn't. They are pretty sad.

These are my monkey jammies. I wore out the crotch, but I will be fixing them and wearing them forever. I do not wish to be disowned by Kesk and the zoo animals that live with her because it is a rule in that house that you must own some monkey jammies. I don't remember, because I don't remember lots of things, but I might have started that rule myself. Whether I started it or not, I do recall buying more than one pair of monkey jammies for that zoo.

These two shirts were my brother, Larry's favorite shirts at the time he died 12 years ago this month. The shirt that says, "Greece" is from a restaurant that he used to take me to in Chapel Hill, NC. The other is Richard Petty's race car. If you don't know who Richard Petty is, then I'd have to say that you are obviously an uncultured swine, because he is the king of NASCAR. Nobody loved Richard Petty like my brother. If my house was burning down, I'd grab these two shirts and maybe my cat.

The Zoo

2009-02-23T21:22:00.005-07:00

Shoulder update: I had an MRI on Friday and it wasn't nearly so unpleasant as I expected it to be. If you've never had an MRI at the Imaging Center in American Fork, I highly recommend it. They don't put you in a tunnel and tell you to try and pretend it's not squishy and coffin-like. This MRI was totally open on all the sides. I was so pleased, I fell asleep. Anyhow, I went back in to the doctor and the good news is that my rotator cuff is fine. The bad news is that it is still really inflamed and has some kind of hook on it that may keep it from ever calming down. I think I can safely say that anyone who had a hook in her shoulder should be owie. I feel like someone tried to fish me and I'm the "one that got away". The doctor said that she'd give me a shot of cortizone to make me feel better about the whole business, but she'd see me in 3 weeks and we'd most likely be setting up and appointment for a shoulder scope. She says after that, it will be magic and will heal up nicely. I'm planning on it magically healing up all by itself after this shot. Again, I'll keep you posted.

The most happy thing about today is that on my way home from the doctor I decided to pay a visit to the Kesk Family Zoo. They have all of my favorite animals at that place: monkeys, zebras, and Roxies. If you think a Roxie isn't an animal, you are terribly mistaken. At my visit to the zoo it was apparently feeding time because there was some very yummy, freshly made, cinnamon apple sauce. For a zoo keeper that hates cooked apples, she can sure make good applesause. That Roxie animal gave me a bite of hers and then made sure I got some of my very own.

While at the zoo, the zebra decided that it was grooming time after his applesauce snack and started working on the Roxie critter.
He did his own fur afterward
The monkey wanted to do her own hair and I'm personally in love with the dental flosser she added. I'd expect nothing less from a monkey.

This is my favorite of all the zoos in the land.

Shoulder Sadness

2009-02-19T21:56:00.003-07:00

I don't know why I don't blog more with this kind of helpfulness:
Plus, also, I went to the doctor yesterday because I've had a bum shoulder for the past 3 and a half months. Apparently, I slept on it funny one night. I figured it was some tendonitis but even after some physical therapy It's not even a tiny bit better. I went to the doctor and begged them to give me a cortizone shot to make all of the swelling go away. Only too bad for me because they did an x-ray instead that says I have a hook on my shoulder. I don't know what that means except it makes it harder to heal. My doctor friend is also afraid that I might need surgery because it is owier than just some tendonitis. I have an MRI tomorrow that will settle it once and for all. I'm praying my guts out that surgery is not-so-much what I need. I'm hoping that the man upstairs wants to do me a solid and grant that wish. I'll let you know the verdict.

Company

2009-02-15T18:43:00.008-07:00

So, Hank and I have some company this weekend. His name is Alpine.

Alpine belongs to the Eaves. I live in their little house. They are away in St. George and needed someone to tend Alpine. I figured that he's little enough that he can't be too much trouble. I think he's fabulous, but Hank doesn't really agree so much. This is a little bit of how the adjustment is going for him:

This is what Hank looked like when he first saw that their was a foreigner in the house:He tried to be inconspicious as he assessed the situation:

He gave that up and started stalking the poor thing:

They finally started seeing eye to eye:

Alpine will go home tomorrow and I can safely say that they absolutely tolerate one another.

Robert Jones

2009-02-08T14:30:00.002-07:00

I don't know if any of you know who Robert Jones is (unless you are a fancy pants cosmotolgist), but I had the pleasure of spending 8 hours with him at at workshop. What kind of workshop, you ask? He is a world renound makeup artist. He charges $2,200 an hour to do your makeup, hair, and to pick our your clothes. I spent 8 hours with him and only had to pay $60. You tell me who is smarter--me or the rich people who pay him? Anyway, he taught us how to properly apply make up for every face, eye shape and color imaginable. I have his book that he based his workshop on, so I can remember all of the wonderfulness I learned.

Robert Jones was just about what I expected. He is an eccetrant, funny gay man. He kept the temperature at about 64 degress the whole time because apparently he gets migraines if he gets too hot. I brought a coat and I was glad for that. He spent some time telling us about he and his "friend's" new puppy, Gigi, that was sick, so he kept his cell phone on incase of an emergancy. You think I'm kidding, only I'm not. He loves Barbara Striesand's music and he loves Donnie Osmond. Not his music, just him. Really he was halarious.

I have taken the liberty of taking some before and after photos of myself. If I had the right camera and lighting it would look a lot more impressive, but I think you'll get the picture.

If any of you want me to work my miracles on you, just let me know.

Where's Hank?

2009-01-28T21:21:00.004-07:00

In one of my very first blogs I mentioned that Hank is always getting shut up in my closet because he cannot be in the presence of an open door and not run through it. I spend much of my time wondering where Hank is and having to do a mental inventory of all the doors I've opened in the last half hour. I've started collecting photos of all the places I find my cat when I can't find my cat. I want you to take note of the grumpy face he has in many of the photos. All I have to say to Hank about that is that I'm not the one who askes him to crawl into weird places and be forgotten.

This next one is a new place, even for Hank. He is obsessed with Q-Tips and tampons, so I believe that's why he's in my Q-Tip drawer.

You are correct. That is frozen corn behind his bum and tater tots below his feet. He was one cold kitty.

This photo made me laugh because there is virtually no food in my fridge, but a 20 pack of Diet Coke. I've got my priorities right, I tell you.

For Hillyerie that expressed concern over Hank "coming out of the closet", I think I've got much bigger problems what with him "coming out" out of so many other things. I'm not even sure what that means since I had his little boy parts removed of a couple of weeks ago.