My great-niece, Paityn, spent some time at our house yesterday because her mom is in training 12 hours a day for four days this week on a new job.
This is Paityn:
Paityn is a handful, to say the least. She's nearly 1 1/2, so she's into everything and wants to investigate (aka pull things out of cupboards and off of shelves). She's also very cute, so it's difficult to get upset with her.
Paityn and Bear have always liked each other. She has never been afraid of Bear, and he's always been very gentle with her. But now that Paityn is bigger than Bear, she likes to tease him. Mom said she spent much of the afternoon yesterday taking away Bear's food. Um, you don't mess with Bear's food - that's all I'm gonna say about that.
Anyway, I guess Bear finally got upset over it and nipped at Paityn. It scared her. Mom said she really cried over it. But, apparently they made up because she was playing with him again a short time later. Although, I think she figured out that messing with his food was the cause of their problems.
When I got home from work last night, Bear was fit to be tied. He knows how to tell time (not a lie), and at five o'clock sharp he sits by the door or puts his head through the stairs banister and waits for me to get home. When I'm late or have to run errands and get delayed, he thinks something is wrong and drives Mom crazy. We used to laugh about it, but try not to so much anymore because it's obviously important business to Bear that I get home on time.
After his day with Paityn, Bear needed some lovin'. He usually follows me everywhere once I get home, and last night was no exception. At one point, I sensed he wasn't around and figured he went upstairs to hang with Mom. I went in my bedroom to change into jeans before I fixed dinner and this is what I saw:
Bear was hiding under the bed. I guess he thought Paityn was coming back. Either that, or he just needed some quiet time. How cute is that?!
He has an aversion to the camera, so I snapped a shot as quickly as I could. He heard the noise my iPhone makes, and crept out on his belly from under the bed. Since he looked so forlorn, I laid on my stomach and talked to him, at which point I snapped this photo:
He realized I caught him on camera, and that's when he got sulky so this is what he looked like as we were head to head and I talked to him:
The poor thing! I tried to comfort him. Finally, I offered up some string cheese and he followed me into the kitchen.
Whoever says animals don't have personality needs to come to my house. My dog will prove them wrong. He definitely has personality! I just wish he could talk in human (and English) sometimes so I knew exactly what he was thinking. Until then, I'm learning to read his actions, and I've learned that string cheese is almost a cure-all.
Fall is my favorite season. I learned over the weekend that it's Mom's favorite season, too. When I tried to explain why fall is my favorite season, Mom finally put a word to it that makes sense. Fall is sensual to me. It's not sensual in a naughty way. Rather, it's exciting to my senses. I thought it would be fun to jot down my fall favorites. In no particular order.
Fall colors - I love when the leaves in the mountain make it look like it's on fire. The reds, oranges, and yellows just glisten in the sunlight. This year might actually be a good one for color, too, since we had such a wet June.
Football - It doesn't matter who is playing or whether it's college or pro. It's fun to snuggle up on the couch with a warm, fuzzy blanket and fall asleep to the sounds of a football game.
Farmer's Market - For some reason, it's so much fun to go to the local farmer's market and check out all the produce. We went last Saturday, and oh my! There was SO much stuff. Mom started to get overwhelmed. Neither one of us does well in large crowds. But it was great to walk by all the fresh produce and take in the colors and smells. Yum!
Corn on the cob - Don't need to say more on that one!
Peaches - Oh how I love peaches! I eat them sliced with a little heavy cream and some Almond milk poured over the top. It's a most delicious treat!
Homemade soups and stews - I am not a soup person. BUT, I love a good homemade soup (like broccoli, cauliflower, and cheese) and a homemade vegetable beef stew that has simmered all day with leftover Sunday roast. Mmm, mmm, mmm!!! Oh yeah. There's also the stew you cook in a pumpkin. It's one of my most favorite meals, and we usually only eat it once a year - if/when I cook it on Halloween.
Popcorn - The smell, divine. The taste, delicious. In all its varieties, I love popcorn! This is a newly acquired fall favorite. I used to hate popcorn. It's quickly becoming one of my favorite things.
Tomatoes - Nothing beats a really red tomato fresh from the garden. On a sandwich, in a salad, just plain on a plate with some salt. I really don't care how we eat them. They are so darn good!
Sounds - Crunchy leaves under your feet, the rustle of the wind and leaves in the air, how crisp everything seems. It's like my senses are heightened tenfold and I hear and see things that the other seasons just don't offer.
Sunsets - I've never been a morning person. Don't think I ever will be. Sunsets are so different from sunrises. A sunrise, to me, brings anxiety - lots of things to do for the day. A sunset, though, makes me feel peaceful. Relaxed, quiet, thoughtful. There's something about the day going to sleep that makes me feel calm and subdued. And Utah has, by far, some of the most amazing sunsets in the entire world!
Smells - These can't even be described. I don't know that many words. There is something about the air that is filled with aroma. It's like an addictive spice or something. You want to keep smelling it over and over again. Or a favorite candle that you light often. It's a smell you almost crave.
Corn mazes - These are so romantic to me! I don't know why getting lost in a field of dry corn is romantic. It makes no sense to talk about it, but corn mazes make me feel giddy. If a guy asked me out and we went to a corn maze, I'd probably fall in love with him. If a guy asked me to marry him in a corn maze - well, that would take the cake!
There are a lot of other fall favorites in my opinion. Christmas might be my favorite holiday, but fall is definitely my favorite season. I'm so glad it's here!
I've written before about the awesomeness of Netflix. It's still awesome. :o)
Lately, I've been watching "Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman", and it's SO 90's! Even the DVD covers are 90's:
I'm still in love with Dean Cain. He was a totally hot Clark Kent/Superman. All ripped and muscle-y. Yowsa! And Teri Hatcher ain't so bad to look at either (even though I hate most pretty, skinny girls).
The thing that cracks me up is I was addicted to this show. I waited for it all week long and was sad when that hour of television ended. Every time Dean Cain had his shirt off, I felt all giddy inside. (It still kinda makes me feel that way. Shh!) It was a "catch your breath" kind of effect every time that hotness came on the screen. (The bigger secret is that I thought Clark Kent was hotter than Superman. Something about a hot dude in glasses with loads of brains and good morals. Don't tell!)
Anyway, while I've watched it on Netflix, I realized how cool the visual effects must have been in the 90's. The characters were excited about having fax machines, email, and carrying HUGE cell phones. It's so fun to go back in time a bit and see what was popular when I was in high school. I'm amazed at some of the fashions (ick!) and the hairstyles that were popular. You can bet I probably wore some of that junk. Or had my hair "styled" in something fashionable. Ten bucks my high school yearbook has some peeps dressed in the same gear and wearing their hair that way.
The nice thing is that Dean Cain is still some hot eye candy.
I didn't see a wedding band in any of those photos. Just sayin'. Guess old crushes die hard, huh? Thank you, Netflix, for the flashbacks, and for giving me a little something (someone) to drool over.
There should be a set time for naps at work. Everyone should get a little futon in their cubicle where they can curl up and have a siesta. Other countries do it. I'm just sayin'.
After all, wouldn't I be more productive if I were actually awake and coherent while sitting at the computer? Silly me. Guess that's just crazy talk!
While I laid on the couch totally incapacitated on Sunday night and all day Monday, Bear stuck it out and showed how much he loves me. This is what we looked like:
Bear slept with his head on my feet. This is how we sleep a lot at night, too. He gets in the crook of my knees and hangs out there all night. Sometimes I kick him off of me because, for a small animal, he generates a LOT of heat. I didn't mind it so much this time because he actually kept my feet warm. No need for a blanket!
He kept inching closer and closer to me. The poor thing! I think he knew I was sick and he wanted to take care of me, but didn't know how other than to cuddle with me and keep me warm. Or maybe he was just plain lazy and didn't feel like moving. Nah.
All I can say is it's nice to be loved. Especially when you're sick and you've bonded with the Porcelain God and probably don't smell the greatest or look your best. That's unconditional love, my friends. (So what if I had to "buy" some of that love with cheese?! It's worth it!)
I'll post more later, including pictures, but the Michael Buble concert was the best! Ever!
He sang all the best songs, the opening (Cry Me A River) was A-mazing, and the encore was SO cool! It was totally worth every penny, and I really hope I get to go again some time. Maybe with a significant other? Hm. Have to work on that.
There was a couple that sat right by us that was from Loa, Utah. They were LDS, and were there to celebrate her birthday. What a good husband to take his wife to see Michael Buble for her birthday, huh? I thought it was very romantic and cute.
We had a wonderful trip. The only bad part was the food poisoning I ended up with after eating at Del Taco. It was probably because we broke the Sabbath - twice. Oh man! We just didn't have time to think about food for Sunday, so we ate at Denny's that morning and then stopped at Del Taco in Cedar City for lunch. That was the doozie! Nobody else (to my knowledge) got sick from it, so I think it must have been the sour cream or the tomatoes that were on my taco. Needless to say, I won't be eating there again any time soon. Which is unfortunate because I really love Del Taco's food! No more macho tacos for this chic in the near future. Bummer!
Other than that, we had a great trip. We did some serious shopping (I found a pair of Lucky jeans - yay!), and had lots of fun together. I just wish we could have eaten at a nice restaurant on Saturday night, but the Philly Cheese Steaks and hot dogs at Nathan's tasted pretty good.
I'll be online in the next couple of months to find out what (if any) tour dates are available next year. And I think I'll be saving my pennies so I can go see Michael Buble again. If I didn't have to work a full-time job, I think I'd be one of his groupies.
Every Sunday, when I was little, my mom would take meals to an older couple in our ward. They were home bound and couldn't even get out to come to church. Mom found out about their situation and arranged to take two plates of whatever we had for Sunday dinner over to them. I vaguely remember going with her a couple of times. At that age, I was afraid of "old people", although they couldn't have been much older than my grandparents.
Anyway, there was one Sunday (Mom tells the story better) where a lot was going on. We had unexpected company or too much going on after church or something. Somehow, in all of the confusion, Mom completely forgot to take their meal to them. Later in the evening, Mom was jolted out of her seat as she realized they had not eaten. She put together a meal for them, and nearing tears, walked the two meager plates across the street.
When Mom got there, the couple was waiting patiently at their kitchen table. She asked if they had eaten; they replied no. Then, she asked why they hadn't called to remind her. Their reply: "We just figured you got busy, but we knew you would eventually remember and come to see us." Mom was mortified - to say the least. She has recounted this story many times, and I think she may even still feel some guilt about it. She has jokingly said when she gets to the other side that they will meet her and her recollection of that day will be what condemns her to hell. That's my mom!
Mom is still my kind of woman though. After all, who else in the ward was taking in meals every week? Who else was thinking of them when they made Sunday dinner? Who else had their kids deliver the meals often so they had a service experience? Who else made two old people happy by providing a meal and a visit and someone to talk to?
I want to be that kind of woman. I want to visit the elderly with meals and treats and be someone they can talk to. I want to teach my children how to serve by being an example of service - and by expecting nothing in return. I want to share with others and do things out of the ordinary that are simple and yet appreciated. And I don't want any credit or thanks or grand hoopla for doing it. In fact, keeping it anonymous would be great. That's the kind of woman I aspire to be. I should start now, but I find a million excuses (I don't have time, I have homework, etc.) and none of them are good enough to excuse me from doing something nice for someone else for no reason at all. I guess I just don't want to be kept out of heaven because I took the easy way out by serving myself. And I guess I also want to prove the cynics wrong - people really will do nice things for others just because they can.
One of my favorite pastimes was watching the Food Network. That's where I learned to cook. Mom was always so busy by the time I was old enough to cook that we never had lessons. Everything was "open a can and throw it on the stove" or "follow the directions on the box", so most of my college years were spent eating Ramen Noodles or Spaghetti with butter and salt. I don't blame Mom for my lack of culinary expertise. And actually, I've realized that I probably wouldn't have been a good student for her if she'd had the time to teach me.
However, I think I've become a foodie. Or a food junkie. But not a junk foodie. Yeah, whatever. Anyway, I previously posted about Chicken Tikka Masala. And the quiche I made. Last night, I made Chicken Tikka Masala and shared it with Mom and Dad and David. It was a good meal! Mom and I both agreed it tasted really good, but it's not one of those things we would crave. We'd probably order it at a restaurant, and we'd definitely eat it again if it were put in front of us, but it's not something we would long for. I can't even think of a food I'd long for anymore. In my previous life, I definitely could have said ice cream or cookies or something like that. But I just don't have food cravings anymore. It's a good thing! Definitely not sad about it.
So this is what the quiche ended up looking like:
And I also got pictures of the Chicken Tikka Masala. It didn't turn out quite as orange as I thought it would, which is a good thing.
As a bonus, Mom went visiting teaching and got some free (and fresh - right off the tree) peaches. Boy howdy! I'm an addict!!! Peaches are one of my most favorite foods. They're lots better if someone will peel them and slice them for you - duh! Mom peeled and sliced them for us. She gave Dad a bowl with some milk over them, and then she had some in a bowl with some unsweetened Almond milk (a new favorite at our house). They were so juicy and sweet and delicious. David told Mom to get her September visiting teaching done early (meaning today) so that we could have more peaches. There's a fruit stand about a mile from where I work, and I think I'll be visiting there soon to get some more peaches. Yum!
For the heck of it, I decided yesterday afternoon that I wanted to learn to make a quiche. That's right, people! Even though the French people aren't "friendly" with Americans, their food is pretty good stuff.
So, I did some digging online and learned that quiche is made in a pie crust. Boo! I don't eat those kind of hip-hugging carbs anymore; disappointment set in quickly. And then - voila! (Is that a French word?) I found a recipe where you could make quiche without the crust. Yippee!
What did I do? I made a trip to Smith's and bought out the store! Okay, not really, but I spent a nice chunk of money on some groceries (that I'll be eating for the next two weeks). Then, I went home and started chopping.
*Sidenote: there's a commercial on TV for Lean Cuisine (I think) that says something about "Dicing and chopping is so relaxing" and then it says "Yeah, right", etc. I'm not one to get offended, but this commercial bugs me because there really are people (me) who like to dice and chop and really cook a good meal - even after a long day at work. Sidenote over.*
Everything but the kitchen sink later, I ended up with a delicious and tasty quiche that was even tastier for breakfast this morning. When I took one up (yes, I made two quiches - hm, is that really the plural?) last night to Mom, she and David both liked it. My mind started whirring and I blurted out, "I bet it would be really good with hamburger, Mexican tomatoes, green chilies, and corn!" Yes, this is really how I cook. Just throwing stuff in a pan and hoping it tastes like something edible when I'm done.
So, I think my next adventure with quiche will be making one with Mexican flair. Tonight, though, I'm making the Chicken Tikka Masala I talked about in my last post. And I'm going to sweeten it up a bit (aka: reduce the "torch my mouth and pray for ice cream later" feeling) with some coconut milk. Since I don't eat rice, I'm not sure what I'll put it over. Or under. Or whatever. Maybe a whole wheat tortilla? Hm.
And I need to remember to take pictures of my cooking experiments. Some of them might actually be worth looking at and going gaga over. If not, they'll at least be a good lesson in what NOT to do when cooking. In the meantime, let it be known that I actually did make something French!
Every so often (about every two years), I get an "itch" to switch things up. As in: buy a new car. Currently, I drive a Honda Accord like this one:
So that I can buy something like a Toyota Prius and save the universe with my economic and gas-friendly hybrid. Like this one:
But then, I think about how much I love my leather seats, seat heaters, sun roof, six CD player, and general feel and smell of my lovely Honda. I owned a Honda previously, and then traded it in for a Toyota Camry. HUGE mistake. Not that I don't like driving a Camry, but there's just something about my Honda that gives me the "this is my car" feeling. The Camry never felt that way. And I obviously had no attachment to the Camry because I never named it. Silverado is too lovely to part with!
Every so often, I crave trying new foods. Lots of people have told me I need to try Chicken Tikka Masala. The problem is, it's orange, like this:
Not that I have an "aversion" to orange foods (my mom has an "aversion" to blue foods unless it's blueberries), but this color of orange does not look so tasty. Plus, the last time I ate Indian food (by the way, nobody really knows where Chicken Tikka Masala originated, but some say it was in Britain - go figure) my mouth was on fire from hot curry for days - DAYS! I'm all for spice, but I think you should be able to taste other things when you're done with the hot and spicy. You shouldn't breathe fire days later, unless, of course, you're a fire-breathing dragon.
Every so often, I like to be a little kid again and watch cartoons in my pajamas on a Saturday morning. It's not quite like the "good ol' days" when Tom & Jerry and Garfield were on, but this will do:
Or this:
Or this:
In fact, my nephew, Andrew, and niece, Amanda, were staying with us a couple of nights last week. One night, we went on a walk and did some work at a friend's house that I was "sitting" while she was away. When we got home, I fixed us all dinner and we watched four or five episodes of SpongeBob. I would laugh (hysterically, if it was warranted) at the show, and every time I did Andrew looked at me with this look of complete awe on his face. Finally, he said, "I can't believe you like SpongeBob." Hey, you don't have to grow up. So what if I'm old and still like to watch cartoons?
Every so often, I wish I had the guts to write a really important letter to someone and tell them my innermost thoughts and feelings. But I don't do it because I'm a scaredy-cat and don't know how it will be received. Instead, I agonize over it because I know I should write it and the response probably won't be anything like what I expect it to be. I wish fears wouldn't get the best of me and that I could just say, "I don't care what the response will be. I'm writing this because it needs to be said and I can't move forward until I get it off my chest." Maybe one day I'll be able to do that and be courageous and not care.
Every so often, I wish life were easier and that "someone" would lay out the life plan for me because I'd happily oblige and do whatever the plan said. *sigh*
I vowed (to myself) that this blog would never talk about weird or gross things. Apparently, I'll make an exception for certain things.
One of my nieces swears she has the longest bum crack of any human being. We (as a family) tend to agree with her. I decided today that she shouldn't feel too bad because I think my bum crack is off-center. Every time I put on a pair of pants (or something else with "legs") the middle is off-center. My bum is the only common denominator! Gross, I know. And kinda weird.
Yesterday at the doctor's office, I had to fill six (or seven, I can't remember) vials with blood for whatever tests he ordered. The nurse had a hard time getting a vein (thanks, Mom, for giving me your deep and disappearing veins). When she finally hit one she exclaimed, "Wow! Your blood comes out really fast!" Um, ew. Sure, it did only take a few minutes to fill the vials, but you don't go around telling people their bodily fluids come out fast. Thank goodness I've never done any passing out when giving blood since I ran like a cheetah once the band-aids (plural, since I got stabbed three times) were on. That's gross. And weird the nurse would say that to me as my blood is gushing out into vials.
I made some whole wheat sugar-free banana bread a few weeks ago. Instead of leaving it on the cupboard, I put it in the fridge. Good move, right? The other night, I had a sugar low (totally weird!) in the middle of the night. Somehow, I buttered a piece of said banana bread and ate it. The next morning, I realized said bread was moldy. Gross!!! What happens if you eat moldy bread? Can it kill you? Or can you develop some kind of disease? Good thing I wasn't coherent when I ate it because there may have been vomit to clean up.
On another (non-weird and non-gross) note, I made an awesome dinner last night and ate the leftovers today for lunch. It was SO good! And healthy. The recipe is below. Hopefully, it will look and taste so scrumptious that it will make up for the weird and gross things I've vowed never to talk about on this blog.
Shrimp and Artichoke Pesto
1 Box Whole Wheat Pasta -- I used this kind:
The flavor was really good, and the entire box was supposed to make four servings, but it made more like seven servings.
1 pound frozen shrimp (51-70), thawed - like this:
One jar pesto sauce - jar pestos are better than mix pestos, in my opinion. Like this one:
One can artichoke hearts (not marinated), broken up in pieces. It should be a large can like this one (except that I don't know what kg is in American weight, so just get a large can):
Cook the pasta like it says on the box, but make it al dente.
Reserve three large serving spoonfuls of pasta water (or more if you like your sauce kind of wet). Lightly drain the pasta (don't shake all the water loose - leave it a little moist). Return it to the pot it was boiled in over low heat on the stove top. Add the shrimp, artichoke hearts, pesto sauce, and reserved pasta water. Mix well, until the pasta, shrimp, and artichokes are well covered.
Serve it with a little Parmesan cheese on top. It's delish! I normally think re-heated pasta is disgusting (mainly because it turns soggy or gooey), but this was not like that, probably because it was boiled only to al dente and not to mush. And I bet there are lots of other things that could be added to it to add more flavor or texture. Ooh! Pine nuts might be really good in it! Guess that will be on my "to-do" list the next time I make it. Yum!
Today, I canceled my membership with online dating sites. Yep, it was my final attempt at the online dating scene, and as my previous experiences with online dating foretold, it was a complete waste of time and money. Can I please get a refund?
Why did I call it quits? Because EVERY man/match listed passion as an important factor in their love life. Now, I'm all for feeling passionate about things. After all, the definition of passion is a powerful or compelling feeling or emotion (like love or hate). However, no relationship, no matter how much love you have for the other person, can sustain passion 100% of the time. It's not possible! There are always ebbs and flows in relationships. What happens when the passion dies? Does the relationship get flushed with it? What do you have in common then?
You can, however, sustain sparks of romance. The definition of spark is to kindle, animate, or stimulate an interest, spirit, activity, etc. This is easily maintained in a relationship, and can happen multiple times a day in various ways. Sparks are a much better way to live in love than passion. Sparks help you grow, serve, and express love, desire, and honest feelings. Sparks happen in conversation, over a good meal, reading the scriptures together, or having a new experience together. Those are things that can be found every day in the little things.
So, if any man exists that is passionate about life, learning, and being their best self, but understands that passion can never exist all the time in a loving, enduring, eternal relationship, please preserve him in stone (or through some other amazing scientific method) and let the women of the world know that there was at least one man who got it. Also, make sure to get an interview with him before the preservation so it can be sent to the men of the world in the hopes they'll get it and realize the women they should be dating are the ones who create sparks - not passion - with them.
End of story, thank you, and amen.
Almost every morning as I leave for work I have to say goodbye to Bear (my favorite four-legged friend). It's so hard because he's so cute!!!
He's so cuddly and cute and fun and adorable. We go through a routine where he comes into the kitchen, I throw down a little shredded cheese for him to eat while I fix my lunch, and then I tell him over and over again how much I love him and that I'll see him when I get home from work. Sometimes I promise to take him on a walk, which he really likes. At least, he cocks his head to one side and acts interested. (Hey, it's more than I get from any other male in my life. Don't judge!).
Anyway, this represents the look I finally close the door on:
Sad, huh? This morning it was especially sad. I'm not sure why. All the way to work I thought how awful it must be for mothers to have to leave their children and go to work. If you choose to do that, I have no sympathy. But if you have to work to make ends meet, that's a different story. It's so heart-wrenching! And I think if I ever have to be a working mom I'm going to be an absolute wreck before I get to work each morning. If I can't even leave my dog without feeling sad about it, imagine what it will be like to leave my own flesh and blood! Agony!!!
One more reason that I hate goodbyes. They totally suck and I wish we never had to have them (unless, of course, we could just say goodbye to all the idiots in our lives that cause us more pain or problems than they're worth - those goodbyes aren't so bad). I think I need a hug 'bout now. Maybe I can speed home and cuddle with Bear. And NOT think about the goodbye I'll have to do all over again tomorrow. :o(
What is it with guys who always want to be "just friends"?
Every guy I've talked to about marriage wants to marry his best friend. But every guy I've ever liked has only wanted to be just friends. What is up with that?!
How come I can be their friend, or even their best friend, but not the kind of best friend that they want to spend any time (much less eternity) with? How exactly does that work?
I'm not complaining - just trying to understand the mentality.
See, I don't understand how a man who has served a mission, is faithful in his callings in the church, honors his priesthood, and reads his scriptures and prays and regularly attends the temple can really believe that he's going to achieve the highest degree of Celestial glory if he doesn't find a woman to marry in this life. Where is the work for the eternal reward? You don't get something for nothing in this life OR the next.
And why, oh why, do men think there's such a thing as the "perfect woman" when that person does not exist? Women know a perfect man doesn't exist. Why are women held to a higher standard? I don't get it. If a guy is looking for perfection, he better be perfect himself before he comes a callin'.
Somebody please help me understand it. Because I'm getting tired of being the (un-marry-able) best friend to every man walking the face of this planet. Don't misunderstand. I don't want to get hitched tomorrow. I'd just like to know what, exactly, it is I'm doing that prevents me from dating and being wooed and finding eternal companionship.
If it's not something I'm doing that's causing the "just friends" scenario, how do I knock some men's heads together so they actually get it?
I'm a fan of this guy:
This is one of my favorite soundtracks of all time:
And I'm going to see him in concert tonight, which should be great fun!
Can't wait! Jack Johnson, here I come.
My semi-annual teeth cleaning appointment was today. (Allow me to preface that with the disgusting admission that I had not been to a dentist in over a decade prior to February of this year because my old dentist really freaked me out and his hygienist was - nicely put - rough on my mouth. I mean, if you're gums bleed for a week, and it hurts to floss or brush or CHEW, you'd have a hard time going back, too.)
Anyway, there are no cavities (thanks, Dad, for giving me your good teeth!) and the hygienist says I'm doing a great job flossing and brushing. She made me laugh by telling horror stories about patients who never brushed and expected a cleaning to make their teeth perfectly white and gorgeous. It was a nice visit.
Then, she tells me my insurance covers fluoride treatments, so she'll do that today as well. Great! And then my brain recalls my last fluoride treatment with Miss Meanypants and I start to squirm a little. I'm gearing up for that big wad of goo they put in your mouth that takes two weeks to rinse completely out. To my relief, she explains they do fluoride differently now. It's like a "paint" they cover your teeth with, it feels a little grainy, but smooths out within a day and then you're good. Phew! Gag fest averted!!!
She starts "painting" my teeth and then says: "Now, you should avoid eating anything rough, chewy, or sticky. No carrots, chips, or gum today. You can eat whatever you want tomorrow though. Oh, and one other thing. Don't floss OR brush tonight. It will take the fluoride off your teeth. So wait until tomorrow morning to brush again, and make sure to do it a little more gently than you normally do."
WHAT?! I can't floss my teeth tonight?! I can't brush my teeth tonight?! Ew!!! We just got through talking about how gross some people's mouth habits are and you want me to NOT floss or brush?! I am ANAL about flossing and brushing my teeth. Every night. It's part of my bedtime routine. I'm already grossed out about what my mouth is going to feel (and taste!) like when I wake up tomorrow. This is not happiness, people! So much for smiling with nice, clean teeth ....
Today's blog post is about totally random thoughts.
Why won't the font on my blog default to Georgia? And why, after I change it manually to Georgia font, does it revert back to Times New Roman? For real. That's just stupid.
Why, when I take this,
do I still have to use a million of these
every stinking day?!
How come the only meal I want to drink a barrel of water at is lunch?
Why does Yoplait Greek Yogurt taste like rotted cream, but this yogurt
tastes delicious (even the blueberry flavor, which I normally abhor)?
I wonder sometimes what my kids will look like. Nobody wants to have ugly kids, right? Do you love them any less if they are ugly? Or do you just think they're cute because they're yours? What happens if they get beat up because they're so ugly? That can't be good, and it would be all my fault.
What was said to be "the best thing" BEFORE sliced bread since the phrase is "the best thing SINCE sliced bread"?
If I've already shrunk an inch-and-a-half in life, does that mean I won't shrink anymore as I get older? Or will I eventually be 4'2" tall and have to declare myself a little person?
Some day, I'd like to tour the entire United States in this car
or on this bike
with this kind of guy
and not care how long we are gone or what we miss while we are away.
Best friends are really hard to come by, and no matter how hard you try, some of them aren't really as good a friend as they profess to be. Email buddies or "convenience" friends never measure up to what I'm willing to give in a relationship. Thankfully, I have very few "convenience" friends in my life and they are easy to identify. We won't list names.
My parent's 46th wedding anniversary is less than a month away. That seems like an interminable amount of time. Is it really possible to love someone for that long and be happy about it?
If I died in my sleep tonight, would it really matter? Would people really miss me, or would it be a fleeting "aw, shucks" moment in their lives? In other words, have I really made a difference in anyone's life?
Is it possible to get too much sleep? I mean, could too much sleep really kill you?
Should I write another Christmas story this year or call it quits?
Is it wrong to think about Christmas right now? In August? Because usually I start listening to Christmas music in September (with the exception of last year). Why is that not normal? All the baking and wrapping and decorating make me happy, and it only happens once a year. How is that right?
Maybe the Excedrin I mixed with the highly caffeinated Rockstar Recovery Non-Carbonated Lemonade I chugged this morning should not become routine since apparently it makes my brain vomit in blog form.
My name is Katie, and I'm addicted to books. Have I admitted this once before? It feels like it ....
There's been a lot of talk about The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. On my week off of work, I finished two books in the Percy Jackson series and also finished The Hunger Games. I'm now reading Catching Fire. Now, this blog is not a book review site in any way, but sometimes it's fun to talk about the books you're reading. Maybe others have different points of view or explain something that didn't make sense, etc. Perhaps joining a book club is the way to go. But then I wouldn't enjoy reading because it would be something that was "assigned" rather than a hobby. Like Oprah's book club. I think I started two or three different books she suggested, and ended up hating them all. Not a good way to read.
Anyway, it took a while for me to get into The Hunger Games.
Everyone said how addictive it was once you picked it up and started reading. Honestly, I kept reading because there wasn't much else I wanted (or needed) to do. It's a fast read, which I like, but the story seems so unbelievable. It's not like the world of Harry Potter. I got lost in that, even though I knew it was totally unrealistic. This series isn't like that. This series is more like let's-see-how-unbelievable-and-out-of-this-world-we-can-make-it. The third book, Mockingjay, comes out at the end of this month. I find myself hoping it's the last book in the series ....
Mom and I went to Costco last week. They always have a large selection of books. I found a series by V.C. Andrews called the Dollanganger series.
It's five books, and Costco had two books in one for $6.97, so I got the first four books in the series for practically nothing. That will be my next read (probably after I finish the last three of the Percy Jackson series).
I guess the point of this blog is that it's nice to have a hobby I really enjoy. One of these days, I'm going to have more time to enjoy books that are church-related rather than young adult fiction or fun stories. Because of time constraints with school, work, and life, I'm not able to focus on books that take a lot of thinking since my brain is already pushed to the limit with other information that's supposedly going to provide me with income the rest of my life.
On a side note (that has nothing to do with books), I slammed my right middle finger in the bathroom stall door at work. THAT was pleasant. Maybe I should write a book about it ....
My 77-year-old friend got married yesterday. Happy day!
We went to the reception. Lots of food, small cake, totally the way it should be done.
UNTIL she sends her granddaughter out to collect the "single girls", specifically me, so she could throw the bouquet. Now, I don't put weight on silly things like that. Just because you catch a bouquet does not mean you will be the next to marry.
I tried to get out of it. Tried to talk Mom into leaving. Tried to hide in a group of people. Tried to pretend like I didn't exist. It didn't work. She wouldn't throw the bouquet until I was standing in the group of single women.
As she's getting ready to throw, she notices several little girls at the front of the "pack" of singles and says, "No, no. You girls are too young for this. You go play." I (from the back of the crowd) say, "Oh, no. They're fine. Really! Let them be a part of this."
Thank heavens for little girls!!! She looked at me, tried to "aim" where the bouquet went, and totally missed. All the little girls ran for the bouquet and one of the taller ones caught it. She had a huge smile on her face and was overjoyed that she caught it.
I was smiling, too, until I saw my friend's face. She was NOT happy that I had avoided catching the bouquet. In fact, I think she was rather upset. I gave her a big hug and told her thanks for trying. Relief! I'm glad I didn't catch it!
When I found Mom, I told her what happened, laughing about it. Then, when I said my friend looked kind of upset, Mom said, "I bet she was. She really wanted you to catch it."
Oh, well. I feel bad she was upset, but you know, catching a bouquet really doesn't mean anything. It's just a tradition we do. And it's kind of a silly one at that. Catching some flying flowers in no way means you will be the next to marry. Because if that's all it took, I'd have been married for the last 20 years.
Mom and I wanted to do something fun this year that didn't cost a fortune. We opted for the Shakespearean Festival in Cedar City - and it was SO much fun!!! We invited my mom's sister, Kathi, and their aunt, Nadine, to come with us. We saw three plays (The 39 Steps, Pride and Prejudice, and Much Ado About Nothing). They were wonderful, and so funny!
We only stayed one night, but it was the perfect amount of time. Alex came and "tended" Dad during the day and then stayed the night to help David listen for him if he needed anything. I think Bear (the poor dog) missed us more than any human. We are already planning another trip next year because we had such a good time being together and getting "cultured."
Here are some pictures of our time together. I also took several pictures of the sunset as we drove home. It was incredible! The weather was great, but lightning storms were coming in as we drove home. There were beautiful, fluffy clouds in the sky and the sun tried to peek through. I've included those as well.
Mom bought us all a "tiara" to wear. You can't see hers because her hair is so much lighter than the rest of us, but it was fun to wear them and feel like princesses for a little bit. The lady who took our pictures was funny. She kept hitting the button on my iPhone and we ended up with LOTS of these pictures. Several of those pictures included her finger. Nice! And in one of those with the finger, Mom said it looked like Nadine was going to throw up. We laughed so hard over that none of us could breathe. I'm sure the people trying to watch the greenshow really appreciated the idiot ladies laughing their heads off. Oops!
One of the things we did was shop in the gift shop. Mom found a display of hats, so she made me try them on and take pictures. Every time we saw a hat after that, I put it on and she took a picture. I don't know why we thought it was so funny, but here are her photos of our hat fun.
I don't know why, but the last hat made me think of Strawberry Shortcake. I used to love her! I had a doll that smelled like her, had a board game with her theme, and just loved to watch the cartoon. That phase only lasted a little while, but I have fond memories of Strawberry Shortcake.
These are pictures of the sunset I caught out the window of Mom's van as we drove home. There's no explanation needed, but I will say that God has truly created some beautiful things in this life, and sunsets in Utah are one of the most beautiful.
My obsession with sunsets (and the occasional sunrise) continues. I don't know why, but there's something about the picture that Heavenly Father creates when the sun goes up and comes down. No two pictures are ever the same. It just makes me appreciate how small I am in this world, and yet how much I am loved that I could witness something so beautiful. It was the perfect ending to two wonderful days with three of my favorite people. I'm really looking forward to next year, and hope that we really and truly do it again.
One last thing - if you're ever in Cedar City, you have to visit The Pastry Pub. They have excellent food, and their pastries are to die for! Now, I don't eat pastries anymore, but when I did, these were the ones I craved. We had a wonderful lunch there on our second day. They have good food and it's a fun environment. I didn't get any pictures, but you can check out their website at www.cedarcitypastrypub.com.
