Laura and her thoughts

Ila Miriam

2012-01-12T17:36:00.001-07:00

12.28.2011

9.0 lbs & 20 inches

Presidential Cabinets

2011-12-19T09:00:00.000-07:00

David has some issues with our kitchen. It has more than twice the amount of cabinets and drawers that our kitchen in Palo Alto had. He claims not to understand when I tell him where something goes. If I say "it goes in the left corner cabinet" he things there are just TOO many cabinets where that description could apply.

So one day he takes some of my post-it notes and labels each and every cabinet and drawer in order of the US presidents. Starting with Washington. He calls them the Presidential Cabinets. David is enamored with puns. (obviously).

These new labels have their own difficulties. First of all, I don't remember which president goes with which cabinet. And the labels are too small so I have to lean forward and squint (since I never wear glasses in the kitchen).

Clearly our camera is not good at closeups. But if you squint you can sort of read the labels.

The "Grant" cabinet

The "Johnson" cabinet

etc, etc. There are 20 cabinets/drawers total, labeled in sequential order going from left to right around the kitchen. Just FYI, silverware is in Madison.

still empty...

2011-12-11T18:31:00.001-07:00

DH likes to look inside the car seat cover when he gets home each day. I've been meaning to put something in it for a joke, but keep forgetting. Meanwhile...

It is still empty!

More side views with the standard control group

2011-12-11T17:17:00.001-07:00

This is a continuation of this post: http://laurahasathought.blogspot.com/2011/09/pregnant-side-view-control-group.html
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34 weeks and 4 days along. (11/12/2011)

We forgot to take a control picture of DH, so here we are the next day:

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34 weeks and 5 days along. (11/13/2011)

Notice how DH remains in control. And how happy he is about it:)

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37 weeks and 4 days along. (12/03/2011)

This style of skirt should look familiar! Its all I wear...

In control and SO excited about it...

DH and his bro, looking a touch lopsided.

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38 weeks and 5 days along. (12/11/2011)
Note the slant at the bottom of the dress. This is what happens when you pretend your dress is maternity...

Still in control...but not QUITE as thrilled about it...

the mustache: a thing of mystery

2011-12-07T13:47:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time David tried to grow a mustache. It was very short lived. It died at the end of September 2010. The mustache was a bit sparse, to say the least, and grew very slowly. I hated it. So did he. He grew it for 4 or 5 weeks. The last couple weeks of growth occurred while I was in Seattle and so I arrived home to find this:

He looks like a deadbeat in the 2nd photo, which somehow seems appropriate. We cherish these photos, because DH probably won't ever have another mustache:)

I posted this video on my blog over a year ago, thanks to my friend Rachel. But it still rocks and should be revisited. I asked DH to contribute his own thoughts on what it is to have a mustache (so he can be cool like the dudes in the video). It goes like this--DH: "having a mustache is like ah.. driving a Ferrari. Um..its less comfortable than you would think"

Apparently Indian police officers get paid more if they have a mustache. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/3392809.stm

The end.

Running as the pregernaut + ironman delight

2011-11-21T09:00:00.000-07:00

So I kept up with my running schedule (with lower intensity/distance) until the end of my 2nd trimester (around week 27). At that point I started to get side aches and would have to slow to a walk. I wasn't even running that fast, just jogging and plodding along. I was hoping to run longer into pregnancy, but oh well. Being in good shape before and during pregnancy and having strong abdominals has made it so that I haven't had any lower back pain. I think having good posture has helped too.

After I stopped running I was planning on walking for exercise or going to a gym to use their machines if walking didn't do enough. Unfortunately I got really sick right after I quit running and that lasted for 2 months. I am finally well enough now to expend energy on exercise and so am wanting to start up again with something.

I am planning on running a half-marathon next summer sometime. I think I need a goal like that to help myself get back into the running habit and get back into shape. I am really excited to use the running stroller I purchased. I got it used and at a discount (yay!). It also has an awesome name: THE IRONMAN.

Woo!

Christmas

2011-11-14T16:12:00.001-07:00

David and I have been thinking about Christmas much earlier than usual this year. With the baby due on Dec. 20, it is probable it will arrive before the holiday. The men in David's family have a tendency to go Christmas shopping at the last minute. (like Dec 24...) I pointed out to David that this tendency may be inconvenient with the expected arrival date of our tot. He agreed and did the uncharacteristic thing of buying presents 6 weeks in advance. (Some of them, at least. He is not done yet..)

Because of this early Christmas movement, David is getting in the Christmas spirit. I am definitely a Grinch, so he is deprived usually. He wore a Christmas tie to work last week. And he is using a Christmas mug for his peppermint tea. And he sings Christmas songs all the time now. And he giggles about it (in a manly way). We might even put up the Christmas tree in November instead of the week before Christmas. (This may cause all who know of my grinchness to faint with shock).

But I must point out that it does not bother me at all to have my husband sing Christmas songs around the house. It only bothers me when other people do it. Like Celine Dion. But clearly I am biased. (Although I cannot understand why anyone would prefer Celine Dion to DH's tunes.)

the end.

Study Carrels and Bathroom Stalls

2011-11-09T16:29:00.000-07:00

The Green library on Stanford University campus has some fantastic study carrels. They are big, cozy, old, and made of wood. They are also covered in graffiti. You can find practically anything in a Stanford carrel: poetry, math, scavenger hunt hints, love notes, and of course all topics related to sex education. You may find yourself staring off into space during a study session and realize you are staring at something written on the carrel. It was kind of amazing how so many people added to existing notes over time, making the graffiti sort of artistic. I did not spend a great deal of time in these carrels, but since they were so cozy and entertaining, I did enjoy the time I spent.

When we moved to Provo this past August, one of my top priorities was to finally get a look at the BYU study carrels. I feel like I've heard a lot of talk about the BYU carrels. Some people would talk about their old BYU study carrel as a lost loved one. Apparently they were very attached. The first week of school this fall, David took me to a new faculty breakfast on campus. Afterward we went into the library for a bit. And then I forced him to show me some study carrels.

Now I may report on the sad state of the BYU study carrels. They are exceedingly dull and small. I had high hopes of finding colorful material written in secret inside the carrels, but I looked in at least six of them and there was not a single thing written. NOTHING. The comparison between Stanford and BYU carrels is disheartening. I was looking forward to seeing what BYU students saw fit to write in their carrels. Apparently they have nothing to say. There weren't even any favorite scriptures etched into the plastic.

We also attended stake conference the 3rd or 4th sunday after the move. We were supposed to go to Provo High School's auditorium for it, which I thought really weird. But I sensed another opportunity to inspect the creativity and personal expression of the local students by inspecting their bathroom stalls. After using the facilities during my visit, I can say that Provo high school students either have zero personal expression in bathroom stalls, or the stalls have all been recently replaced. I remember plenty of thrilling material to read in the bathroom stalls during my time at Bountiful High 10 years ago. Bountiful and Provo are both pretty conservative, but Provo takes the cake.

Poor little Provo / BYU students. They don't even know what they are missing. It could be I am wrong and simply looked in the wrong carrels and bathroom stalls. Or not.

Dreams + Weird Al's Birthday, observed

2011-10-31T09:00:00.000-06:00

So Oct 23 was Weird Al's birthday. To past readers of this blog, you know that Weird Al has a special place in my husbands heart. And every year he partakes of the twinkie wiener sandwich in honor of Weird Al. See this post from last year.

This year was slightly different. First of all, he did it a day late (shocking!) due to lack of necessary supplies. Second, the brand of cheeze whiz and hot dog was different. (The newly purchased "Easy Cheese" for 2011 expires in 3 months, unfortunately. I keep hoping that someday he can reuse the can of cheeze whiz at least once. NOT that I am encouraging the use of cheeze whiz. Because I am NOT. It is gross. Just want to make that clear.) Third, it took place in Utah instead of California. Oh, how I miss the Palo Alto air. And our old apartment. I SO miss the fridge. And I even miss having no space and the noise of the old wall heater that groaned like the ghost of last Thursday as it turned on and off. Fourth, I was unable to get a picture on his first bite. My camera kept turning off instead of taking a picture. So after two attempts, I changed the batteries and had him do a pretend-eating pose so that there would be some hot dog left if it turned off again. Fifth, David put on his new Weird Al t-shirt in honor of the occasion.

Here are some action shots:

The application of the new cheese. He opted to go with "cheddar" flavor. There were other flavors, but I think his choice was very wise.

This is the pretend-eating moment. I think he overdid it a little.

And here he is looking absurdly happy with his celebratory sandwich. And yes that is twinkie filling on his face.

And now for the really strange part. The final reason this Weird Al Birthday celebration was different from last year's was that this year I HAD A DREAM ABOUT WEIRD AL. Yes. It was technically in the very early hours of the morning on Oct 24, but it was close enough to his birthday to count. Weird Al had invited me and someone else (who I forget) to his house. It was like a special tour. And there was a race track around it. We drove really fast in the car. And his wife looked exactly like Steve Young's wife. (Which is to say, it WAS Steve Young's wife. I know what she looks like because we were in their ward for a while in Palo Alto, whereas I have no clue what Weird Al's wife looks like.)

Now that we are on the topic of Steve Young, I may as well say a few things. I really don't think he should be revered. He is a normal guy. He forgot his tie once at church. And I once saw him holding a diaper bag. I am thinking it probably had a dirty diaper in it too. Or three.

Shakespeare + important evidence of game loss

2011-10-24T18:06:00.001-06:00

David and I went to the Utah Shakespeare Festival last weekend. Unfortunately I was sick. But we still had a good time! We saw three plays and got to sleep in a king sized bed, which is so so nice. It is the first trip we've gone on in over two years if you exclude visiting family. And it is probably the last trip for a while because of the alien invader. Here are some pics of us around the festival statues/benches:

This is what happens when you put the camera on a table and try to do a timed shot.

In case you are wondering, David is pondering Yorick's skull.

I forget the inspiration for this shot. But this is the "Women of Shakespeare" bench and they are all very scary women. And I think I'm supposed to be dead.

David rents his shirt like King Lear. Yeah. (or is it rends?)

And remember how Utah won the BYU/Utah football game? Well, David and his brother Jonny always do a tie exchange depending on the game result. With this year being a loss for BYU, David was lucky enough to get to wear the Utah tie bestowed upon him by the noble Jonny. David wore it to work (at BYU) on a day he teaches two classes! I was hoping he'd get a few dirty looks, but he says not. Psha. But clearly he is VERY excited to be wearing the tie:)

Long Lost Cup

2011-10-17T09:00:00.000-06:00

Nearly three years ago, tragedy struck in my kitchen. My long adored mug broke.

It was special. I got it at Los Alamos Laboratory.

Occasionally I would search for it online. One time I saw it on ebay. I cursed myself later for not buying it.

And then I FOUND it again! And bought it immediately. Some things are just TOO important to pass up. Now me and my cup are together again. This week has been like a family reunion--uniting me, Nigel Clarence, and my favorite cup. Together at last.

You may recall this old post about another favorite cup. I would like to inform you it is now my second favorite cup, and this toxic waste mug has now been given back its former position as #1 favorite cup.

Nigel Clarence comes home

2011-10-10T09:00:00.000-06:00

I went to the Provo DMV last monday to register my car. But it was like no DMV I have ever been to (which are all in CA). There was no line. There was not even time to sit before my number was called. I was in and out in 10 minutes. And the best part is I got to use my old plates!

I like to name my car. Whenever possible, I try to use the letters from the license plate to make the name.

The first car I drove was called Gina (GNA). The next was Lamar (LMR). After that I borrowed my dad's car for a while, and called it Sir Gallahad (which came from the model of the car, Gallant, and not the license plate. This is because of the unfortunate circumstance of all arches license plates beginning with the letters z, y, x, or w. Very few names start with those letters!).

And then I bought Nigel Clarence, as in NGC. He was my very own. And I took him to California where he had to be reregistered with new plates, alas. But, I brought my old plates to the DMV with me hoping they would let me use them and they DID! I never thought going to the DMV would make my so happy.

Nigel Clarence has even had 15 minutes of fame. When Google first instituted the streetview option, they got Nigel Clarence in the picture of the house I lived in at the time (in 2006). Woot.

So this post is totally lame and nerdy, but I am excited to have Nigel Clarence be official again. Yaaaaaaay.

the curse of the ex-boyfriend

2011-10-03T09:00:00.000-06:00

Once upon a time I was 19 years old. It was at that age that I began to date whom I now refer to as "my semi-pittance of a boyfriend."

This boyfriend, who was never actually acknowledged as such (except in retrospect, hence the title "semi-pittance"), was in MENSA. You know, "the high IQ society." Well. Among other things, this boyfriend was always talking about it. MENSA this, MENSA that. Uh huh. He said he wanted to bring me to their activities. (Let me bring you to my spaceship...) One of these activities was a regular dinner at The Belgian Waffle (a restaurant in Salt Lake City area). I was semi-interested because it was waffles, and I am somewhat obsessed. But we never went.

So anyway, we dated 3 months and then I was dumped. To be precise, I was dumped onto the sidewalk east of the Merrill Engineering Building on University of Utah campus. Just so you can get a picture of it in your head. I was sad at the time (in my stupidity), but it really was not meant to be. The sole reason he asked me out in the first place was because I knew why the sky was blue (and told him so) and crushed his error-ridden theory relating to the excess of Nitrogen in the atmosphere. One time we were driving somewhere and he started talking about how he couldn't believe there were people in the world who did not know what "hiatus" meant. I immediately replied that I had forgotten its meaning. (Apparently though since I had only temporarily forgotten its meaning, I was forgiven this grave offense.)

After I was dumped (picture the sidewalk), I had this perverse inclination to take the MENSA test. According to the semi-pittance of a boyfriend, I was definitely fit for their elite status. (But I don't think MENSA is very elite, and is more along the lines of total crap by the way). So I registered to take the exam. I took it. There were 30 people in the room with me in the Salt Lake City Public Library. I found out later that 25 out of the 30 passed. And I was one of them. Lucky me. I guess I passed your stupid test, Mr Hiatus. Passing that test made me feel good though. Not only was I "smart" enough to get in to the supposedly super exclusive MENSA society, but doing it as a sort of revenge against a somewhat snooty ex-boyfriend was a nice touch. (I know this does not seem like revenge. But to someone who was just dumped, it was like a "so there, Mr. Hiatus. I made it into your lame club but couldn't care less.") But really, 25/30 got in? That seems like a lot, even taking into account the type of people who register for a test like that (that is, people who think they're the bomb). One of the questions on the test was for me to identify a spark plug. How is that relevant? I guessed on a ton of the questions. (I had no idea what a spark plug was. I asked someone afterward and realized I'd guessed wrong). (As a side note, the boy sitting next to me at the test wrote down part of my name (after looking at my paper on the sly) and got my information off of the university directory. Word to the wise: a MENSA test is not the best place to meet people. But that is another story.) And MENSA is definitely not as exclusive as they like people to think. I think they advertise that people with the top 2% IQ scores in society get in. Whatever.

So that was almost 9 years ago. My membership lapsed many many years ago and I still get their emails and mail. Please renew your membership. We are desperate for your money. And in retrospect, I realize this is the curse of the ex-boyfriend. I will be forever plagued by MENSA begging me for money. Thanks a lot. I think I'll change my name and move. (Except I already did that.)

(My apologies to anyone reading this who thinks MENSA is amazing and takes offense. I hope you at least got to eat some waffles.)

Weird Al in concert + my husband the dairy farmer

2011-09-26T08:51:00.000-06:00

A few months back David mentioned to me that Weird Al Yankovic would be performing at the Utah State Fair in September. And we were totally going to be living in Utah at that time! So naturally he bought tickets. The concert was on September 12.

We drove up to Salt Lake City a couple hours early to see some stuff before the concert began. Naturally David was most excited about the livestock. He did grow up on a dairy farm after all and tells stories about birthing calves and crazy cows with attitude. There were two large barns holding cows (one for dairy and one for beef breeds). DH knows his cows. He was saying stuff like, "that Guernsey is really beautiful," or "that looks just like such-and-such cow we had growing up." There is a large cow pasture on 280 that we would pass on the way to Redwood City in California that had black cows with huge white stripes (like an oreo). Naturally DH had to find out what they were called. They are called Belted Galloways, and he would always look wistful when we'd pass. I saw on a friends blog this week her report of going to a state fair in Washington. She has a picture of a little girl hugging her 4-H cow. It made me think of DH hanging out with the calves as a child. Plus it is just sweet.

So we had dinner and got in line to get into the concert. Never had DH been surrounded with so many die hard Weird Al fans (like himself). You might recall how DH likes to celebrate Weird Al's birthday with a "special" hot dog. Yeah. While we were in line he commented several times that he felt like he had found is true people. And he really had. These people are one of a kind.

So we watched the concert. It was so great! Weird Al really puts on a show. He is so energetic--jumping around the stage, changing outfits for almost every song, dancing and generally acting weird. I had a really good time and I'm not even close to obsessed, though I do like some of his music. One of my favorite parts was when Weird Al sang "White and Nerdy." If you watch the music video on youtube then you can witness younger Donny Osmond dancing in the background of a several shots (I think as an example of someone White and Nerdy). (And if you want to see the first take of Donny Osmond dancing NON-STOP through the entire song, watch this. It is so hilarious.) At the concert there was a huge screen hanging at the back of the stage. Weird Al must have gotten Donny Osmond to do some more dancing many years later, because on screen there was an aged Donny doing more dance moves. It was really entertaining. Another great part of the song was that Weird Al came out riding a Segway and drove it all around the stage for the first part of the song. Those things are heavy and expensive! But definitely a great prop.

David bought a poster and t-shirt at the concert. This is him in his new shirt. The shirt advertises the 2011 Weird Al tour. I think going to this concert totally made his year. And it was baby's first concert too. It was a memorable night!

Divided House

2011-09-19T11:21:00.000-06:00

Last Saturday was the Utah-BYU football game. I am a Utah fan and David is a BYU fan. Naturally it was important for me to wear my red Utah shirt and David to wear his blue BYU shirt. We had a bunch of errands to do that day, and we got some hilarious comments from random people in the town. I've never been in "enemy" territory like I am now, and I really enjoyed dressing up in my Uteness.

Here we are in our abode:

And here we are at the game. Look at all that blue behind us! I was one of a handful of Ute fans scattered throughout the faculty section at the stadium. People were nice to me anyway since I wasn't particularly irritating and I looked pretty harmless with my big belly and all. It was fun getting attention.

David thought this was important to get a picture of. It's the biggest flag ever!

I had two favorite parts of the day. The first was when we were at Walmart and we passed an older couple in the aisle. The husband looked at us and said, "the red one is the smart one!" We laughed and then watched his wife swat his arm and tell him he was in big trouble. Ha! It was like a vision of the future, me and DH 40 years from now.

The second favorite part was near the end of the game. A lot of people had left early (due to BYU's lame performance) and we spotted a couple with a baby a few rows down. The wife was in blue and the husband in red. David and I had been discussing how we should dress up our baby at future Utah/BYU games. I thought a purple shirt would suffice (you know..red + blue = purple) but david liked the idea of a half red half blue onesie (but which is unlikely to be sold anywhere). But this couple we saw, they had their baby dressed up in a red and blue stripped onesie! We thought it was genius.

the end. (+ go Utes!)

belated birthday pics

2011-09-15T12:18:00.002-06:00

I wanted to write a follow up post about my birthday this year (original is here). First of all, I mistakenly thought that 28 had no mathematical beauty, but it is actually a perfect number. DH and J the magnificent enlightened me:)

This year I went to my friend Libby's house and shared my birthday with her now 1-year-old daughter, who was born on my 27th birthday! Libby made a tiny cake for her and a big cake for the rest of us to share. Here are some pictures (and her own blog post from that night):

This is me. Just in case you were confused. Libby gave me a present:)

The end.

pregnant: the side view + the control group

2011-09-08T09:13:00.000-06:00

David has taken three pictures of me so far while pregnant. And he chose to use himself as the "control." (HA!). So whenever I remember, I prompt him to take a picture of me, and then I take one of him. Here is what we have so far:

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17 weeks and 3 days along. (07-15-2011)

Here I am from the side.

This was the day Harry Potter 7 part 2 opened in theaters. Hence my special shirt!

And here is DH. The "control" group.

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20 weeks and 5 days along. (08-07-2011)

I'm in a dress so I don't look that much different than before. And my facial expression is definitely on the weird side.

DH again. In control.

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25 weeks and 2 days along. (09-08-2011, today)

Yes my hair is still wet.

And here is DH maintaining control, wearing an AWESOME pink shirt.

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And that's all for now. According to one of David's colleagues, I am "great" with child (and that was 2 weeks ago!). I can only imagine what I'll be at the end. Probably magnificent with child. Or titanic. We shall see.

laundry woes

2011-09-06T12:00:00.000-06:00

I have discovered a new aspect of my slovenly housewifeness.

For the first time ever, I have my own washer and dryer. I share it with no one (except DH, but he doesn't count). No one will be annoyed if I leave sheets in the dryer for a week. No one will be annoyed if I leave piles of clothes in the laundry area because I am avoiding folding them. And, finally, no one will have clothes that are put away.

In my previous existence as a tiny 1 bedroom apartment dweller, I would do laundry on the day that DH was going to run out of underwear. Or he would. (Actually, that is the grand strategy. Make sure you have more underwear than your partner and then they are forced to do laundry. Hopefully.)

So in this previous existence, on laundry day, I would scope out the laundry hut (because it was sort of like a hut) to make sure none of my neighbors was using it. We had an agreement that it was ok to move each others stuff. These agreements are IMPORTANT. I even mentioned it to each one early on to make sure there would be no issues. (Some people have issues.)

If available, I would haul out the first load of laundry and put it in the washer. Then I would come back in and set the chicken. (In our house, the timer is in the shape of a chicken. Thank you Karren! Although I am worried it might have met its end by being dropped one too many times. But I have not given up hope that it will once again become reliable.) 45 minutes later, the chicken would ring. And I would go outside, move the stuff to the dryer, put more stuff in the washer, etc. And then repeat. After each load was dry, I would come inside and dump it on our bed. We only have one laundry basket. I intend to keep it that way. It is ABSOLUTELY ESSENTIAL for preventing the laundry basket syndrome that has befallen THOSE WHO SHALL REMAIN NAMELESS. Who live out of laundry baskets. Or used to. Anyway. Moving on. I had to set the chicken (timer) for fear that I would forget about laundry and one of our neighbors would try to use the washer and find our wet underwear instead. This was not ok. Or, they would interrupt my laundry groove by assuming I was finished when I was not.

So to jump to the end of the story, we would end up with piles of laundry on top of our bed that had to be put away before we could sleep that night. And so it was put away. Now, unfortunately, there are many other places besides the bed to put laundry and leave it. There is the washer. And dryer. And couch (recently acquired). Or on top of the dryer. Or on the floor. I could go on.

In order to prevent such laundry woes and attempt to decrease my slovenly housewifery, I must figure out a way around this "problem" of not having to share a washer/dryer. I could pretend someone else used it each night. Or I could pretend that anything left in the dryer grows mold (I don't have to pretend this for the washer, which is why it is less likely to have stuff in it for too long!) Or I could just give up and be grateful that at least I only have one laundry basket. Whatever happens, I'm thinking I might just continue with my trusted method of dumping it all on the bed.

wearin' o' the Ute

2011-08-26T10:58:00.000-06:00

Today is the first day I feel semi-normal after the move.

I must say that I do not recommend moving during pregnancy. The phrase most commonly used by me in the last 10 days was: "my poor little feetsies." And they were oh so poor. I got to enjoy swollen ankles for the first time as well (which are finally back to normal, thank goodness).

DH and I were both so exhausted, with the peak occurring the day we had to drive to Utah, a week before last thursday. Not the best timing! You know you have had no sleep for too long when the sight of Sacramento turns you into a blubbering buffoon. (Although this might be normal for some people...)

Anyway. We were exhausted for a few days. Then when I was feeling better, I got stomach flu. David asked me, how do you know if it is stomach flu instead of pregnancy nausea? I'm not quite sure. Maybe because I only threw up once during the "morning sickness" bit? That was last wednesday. Then, yesterday, I was exhausted again from lack of calories. I figured out late on stomach flu day that eating popsicles didn't make me throw up, but they didn't make much of a dent in my intake for the day.

And finally, today came. I woke up. The sun was shining. DH kissed me goodbye. And I knew I was feeling good because I wanted to eat some leftover birthday cake with my breakfast. And I wanted to go running. And I wanted to wear one of my Ute running tops.

So there I was. Running down the street in my red sleeveless Ute shirt. I was hoping to get some dirty looks. But I didn't get a single one! Someone even said "hello" in a pleasant tone of voice. Granted, it was a bit late for the running masses and I wasn't out very long, but still. So then I decided to take my bike to get aligned (my poor little bike was abused by the moving truck) while still wearing my running garb. I walked over to a shop (Mad Dog Cycles), maybe half a mile. On the way there, a girl DID look at my shirt and grimaced ever so slightly. FINALLY. And I was not refused service at the bike repair shop for my wearin' o' the Ute. They did not even comment. And they fixed my bike in less than 5 minutes. Woot.

Maybe my expectations are a little off. Maybe I am imagining what would happen if someone ran through the University of Utah campus wearing a BYU top. And I was not actually running on campus, so had limited exposure. Or maybe I just need to run through BYU campus wearing it the morning of the BYU-Utah football game.

Yes. I am twisted and derive satisfaction out of ridiculous things.

birthday + early provoness

2011-08-23T16:27:00.000-06:00

Today is my birthday. It has been weird so far. Usually I remember my birthday is coming up at least a month in advance. And then I might think about it once every couple days. And then the night before, I would go to bed thinking that the next day is my birthday. And I would remember it the moment I woke up. This year, I was so distracted with moving that I barely noticed my birthday was coming. I didn't even think of it yesterday until someone wished me an early happy birthday on facebook. I didn't remember it was my birthday for a whole hour after waking up this morning. I am not sure what is normal for most people, but this year has definitely been unusual for me.

Another possible reason I did not anticipate my birthday is because there is very little mathematical significance about the number 28 (my new age!). 28 is 7 times 4. But it is not a prime number, or a cube, or anything like that. So it is definitely lacking in the math thrills department. I am excited for next year when I am 29. First prime number since 23. Yes, I am nerdy. This is no surprise.

So far I have been in Provo since Friday morning at 7:15 am. That makes it 4 and a half days so far. Our ward appears to be pretty good, based on my experience last sunday. There are the old ladies in Relief Society that know all there is to know. There is the old man handing out programs with a smile. The only thing that was decidedly provo (to me anyway) was the signup sheet in the attendance binder sent round Relief Society asking if you were expecting, and if so, to put down your name and due date.

I have been on campus twice now. Both were for free breakfasts for new or continuing faculty. Today DH took me into the BYU bookstore. There is a shelf called "Forgotten Classics" that I mistakenly thought would contain things like Agnes Grey or Around the World in 80 days. But, no. They mean LDS classics with long names. I was also amazed at the amount of junk food sold in the bookstore. Wow. I mean. Wow. And they actually sell clothes that are not BYU items. DownEast Basics is sold there too. This astounded me.

So far I have accidentally stumbled onto only one lovers tryst. I was trying to walk home (by myself, after David ditched me) without knowing anything but the general direction. I found myself entering a garden like area. I went down a few steps. And then I was at a dead end. But I was not alone.

Also on the same walk home, just after I parted with DH outside his office building, there was a group of people walking behind me. These were university faculty and staff streaming out of the same meeting I had just attended with DH. I kissed DH goodbye (on the lips), and went on my way. Then not 10 seconds later I hear someone say behind me, "And there is a great example of student/professor relationships." I was somewhat shocked but also thrilled that I could add this comment to my collection of strange provoisms. I turned around and looked at them to make sure they knew I'd heard, and also to make sure they were talking about me. I forget what they said after that (something about how they were kidding, and enjoyed the display), but I entertained myself thinking about the exchange on the way home, at least until I discovered the tryst and realized I was lost in 90 degree weather. Sigh.

Sorry for this long post. Or not.

moving + the end of the endless soap

2011-08-15T09:23:00.000-06:00

We're moving this week. That means we procrastinate packing until the last two days before movers come and get our stuff. (I am so thankful BYU pays for movers!) But I am tired from just thinking about two solid days of packing...

I have been trying to use up everything in the fridge/freezer and have done relatively well. I had no idea I had so much ham. Or pork. I think I will avoid ham and pork for a while.

Some things are working out perfectly. Out of the 48 toilet paper roll pack I bought some time ago, we now have 2 rolls left. We have maybe 1 cup of laundry detergent left. Unfortunately we ran out of peanut butter a couple days ago. I will probably have to buy more. Alas.

BUT the most amazingly timed event ever is that we FINALLY used up the last of the soap. You know. The soap I have written about periodically for the last 2 years. Here and here and here. I know you will be SO sad to know that this could be the last soap post. David did suggest that we hunt down another bar of that soap (if Walmart still sells the same bath kits) and test out how long it lasts by using it only in the shower (since the last one was used solely as hand washing soap in the bathroom). I am not sure how I feel about repeating the soap experience. While definitely entertaining and amazing at times, it really was quite irritating having endless soap that doesn't lather. I'm not sure I want to do it again, even for the benefit of science.

But my birthday is coming up, and if DH gets me a Walmart bath kit (highly unlikely, if not impossible) then I guess we'll have to see:)

ja vi elsker dette landet

2011-08-08T10:25:00.000-06:00

I was maybe 8 years old when my entire family got Norwegian flag t-shirts. I'm talking about the standard white t-shirt with a flag printed on it. It had "ja vi elsker dette landet" printed below the flag, which is Norwegian for "Yes we love this country" and is the national anthem of Norway. I forget the occasion for the group purchase, but the point is that we are Norwegian. I'm like 45% ish. Or whatever. So I was watching this music video, which is sort of addicting. I want to watch it over and over. (its the Pop! song with Hugh Grant...) Anyway, there is a guy in the video wearing one of those British flag t-shirts. I'm not talking about the white t-shirt with a flag on the front, but where the entire shirt is the flag. So that got me thinking that I really need to have one of those. Except I want the Norwegian flag on it.

After searching for a while on the internet, including google.no using both english and norwegian search terms (norsk flagg skjorte), I now know that they are almost non-existant. The closest thing I found was this:

But unfortunately, it does not come in anything other than standard male t-shirt sizes. But I will not give up. Someday I will find one that is perfect, and then I'll wear it with a leather jacket.

It's a girl!

2011-08-02T17:06:00.000-06:00

David was right. Though I'm sure the baby will love blue towels:)

My family is especially excited since it's the first granddaughter after a slew of boys. Woot!

The end.

Predictions

2011-07-30T17:06:00.001-06:00

So. Tuesday is the day DH and I will find out whether there is a little emperor or a little eppie growing inside me.

As fun as we thought it would be to leave it a surprise, we are now going to find out what IT IS. I still think of IT as an alien invader, living in my body and making creepy, sneaky, fluttery movements that I always assume to be gas. If I let myself think it is not gas, then it sort of weirds me out and makes me feel like I ate a spider or something. Ew. Yeah. So, I admit to being less than maternal. But I also admit that it is probably a human fetus.

And now for the requisite predictions. Boy or girl? For the sake of having a prediction (which DH insists is very important), I am going to say it is a boy. And also for the sake of the prediction, DH has agreed to do the opposite and say it is a girl. So there it is.

I do have some reasons for thinking it might be a boy. First and foremost, it is because of Elaina's towels. Elaina is a good friend I have from my geophysics undergrad. Together with Jillian, we were up to no good. And then I got married, and Elaina gave us a present. Part of that present consisted of a set of smallish blue towels, which she said were for our first child. She said she had a hunch.

The second reason I predict a boy is because I have often pictured having a baby that was a mini-David. In the first years of marriage when I was definitely not ready for kids, I did have an occasional glimmer that if the baby looked just like him, then having one might be ok.

David told me he thinks it might be a girl just because he's thought more about having a girl than a boy.

So we will find out soon enough!

Special Announcement:
After learning I have zero intention doing the "mommy blogger" thing, David decided that he wanted to be a daddy blogger. And here is his first post: http://ailihphilia.blogspot.com. I'm not sure how crazy he is planning to get, but it is likely there will be more baby stuff on that blog than on this one.

kitchen lessons

2011-07-25T10:41:00.000-06:00

I've started cooking again. Occasionally. I didn't cook at all during my first trimester of pregnancy, and now I am starting to cook again and trying to empty the fridge/freezer. We are moving in three weeks.

I thought I'd put down a few things I learned about cooking so I can remember them. I'm sure there is a lot more to this list, but for now I am remembering just two things.

1) For sauces and soups, use white flour. (Gravy is an exception; whole wheat flour works fine in it and just makes it a bit more gritty. I usually use whole wheat flour when making sausage gravy for a biscuits/gravy meal.) I created this rule for myself after using whole wheat flour as the thickening agent in some kind of soup. It turned out really strange. I wish I could remember what it was. If it is bread product, whole wheat flour works fine. But if its just used as a thickening agent, the results are unpredictable and might be less than delightful.

2) Don't assume that anchovy paste/fillets can be interchanged with sardine juice. I know I might be an oddball in liking sardines. Before I was pregnant, I was on a sardine kick and loved eating them on rye toast with cheese. There is always some sardine "juice" left in the tin after all the sardines are taken out. At first I dumped it in the sink, but then I got the idea that I should save it in a plastic bag and put it in the freezer for some future use. David is not a huge seafood fan, but I have made a fish-base soup once or twice. Or maybe just once. I thought the sardine juice could go in something like that. So I accumulated leftover juice from 3 or 4 cans, adding up to about 1/4 cup.

Meanwhile, I read in cooks illustrated that adding tomato paste and anchovy past/fillets to a beef stew will add depth to the beef flavor (without making it taste like fish). There is a very good beef stew recipe that uses these ingredients and it is super awesome. As I said before, I am trying to use up what is in my freezer. Recently I was making another beef stew recipe and decided to throw in the frozen sardine juice. BIG MISTAKE. It made the whole kitchen smell like sardines, and you could definitely taste it in the finished product. It was still edible and tasted fine, but the sardine flavor ruined the dish in my opinion. Perhaps if I had used only 2 teaspoons of the juice it would have worked out perfectly. (The stew recipe that calls for anchovy fillets says it is 2 teaspoons worth.) But I probably won't ever try it again.

3) This is more of a complaint against blogger and its search engine. I have discovered, to my dismay, that when searching my recipe blog, the title is not searched, only the body of posts. HOW LAME IS THAT? Super duper lame. This means that I have to rely on my tags to find certain recipes. Or, I should just repeat the post title in the body of the post so it will be searched. I might go back and do that for all the posts. Grrr.

the pregernaut + the importance of the star trek title sequence

2011-07-18T10:43:00.000-06:00

I am the pregernaut.
Boldly going where no man has gone before.
-------------------------------------------
When I was young(er) (12 perhaps?), my parents always watched Star Trek reruns that showed at 10pm on weeknights. I think it was the James T. Kirk, but might have been Next Generation. Either way, everytime I'd walk by my parents door around that time at night, I'd hear the opening title sequence, or bits of it (this one from Kirk):

Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Its five-year mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.

Soon, I had it memorized. One day I typed it up and put it on the door of the refrigerator. My father was studying Latin at the time, and within a few days the Latin translation of the title sequence had shown up on the fridge also. It became a family joke. My parents are pretty big Star Trek fans. My mom even has some framed star trek picture with Leonard Nimoy's signature (you know, Spock). Whoa. And lets not forget the Christmas ornament in the shape of a shuttlecraft that, when you press the button, says (in Spock's voice), "Shuttlecraft to Enterprise, shuttlecraft to Enterprise: Spock here. Happy Holidays. Live long and prosper."

Meanwhile, time passed. I discovered the changes in the wording used in the title sequence for Kirk's Star Trek versus Next Generation. The most important part being, "to boldly go where no one has gone before." Apparently "one" is more politically correct.

The Latin translation was semi-forgotten. Then one day, out of the blue, a new Latin translation shows up on the fridge. My dad had a lot more Latin study under his belt, and had decided that his first stab at translating the star trek sentence was sub par. We wouldn't want that.

And thus, the story of the Latin translation of "Space, the final frontier..." earned its place in family legend.

the end.

provophobia (noun): fear of living in provo, utah

2011-07-09T15:28:00.000-06:00

provophobic (adj) - suffering from provophobia

provophobe (noun) - a person with provophobia

Reasons for provophobia:

1) the people there have gone round the bend, as it were. (also known as the point of the mountain). teeheehehe

2) the zip code is very dull. not poetic at all. 84606? Psha. 40404 is poetic. Such beautiful symmetry...

3) there is only one public library. Palo Alto has 5 (though they don't have near as many books as Provo).

4) it is overrun with scary undergraduates. With cars.

5) there is no mocha ice cream flavor at the BYU creamery.

6) you can buy caffeine free diet coke in vending machines

7) University of Utah is where my heart is

8) BYU is in provo

9) The mountain has Y on it. As in, "Y are you a nutcase?" This makes one ponder self-worth. The U on the mountain behind the University of Utah is much better. It says, "U are a nutcase" and there is no need to think about it.
10) No Milk Pail grocery
11) pollution
12) weather extremes. How will I run in the snow?

And so forth. The last three are mainly complaints about Utah in general, or how I will miss the the lovely Bay Area. And I will definitely miss it. A lot.

I am consoled in this upcoming move by contemplating that my family will be nearby. It will be so nice to be able to see them more frequently. I am also consoled because after this move, David will start getting paid at a "real" job. Woot!

pregnant thoughts

2011-07-02T11:02:00.000-06:00

Of all the unusual (and mostly unhealthy) food I have consumed in the last 3 months, it wasn't until I wanted to eat a baked potato that made David exclaim, "are you a different person?"

apparently so.
-------------------
Yesterday I got a surprise delivery from my friend Jennie. She gave me my first baby present! It was so exciting. Presents! In July! Totally unprecedented.

I would like to state that I have no intention of turning my blog into a mommy blog. That is just too much effort, and it is too much like scrap-booking (which I loathe). So you can all either make a gasp of horror or relief. Depending on your preference.
-------------------
The people in my Spanish speaking LDS ward have been waiting impatiently for 3 years for me to be pregnant. The first year and a half in the ward, everybody asked me if I was pregnant. Even men. I wondered if it was because of the high-waisted dresses I was wearing at the time (I have worn nothing but skirts the last year and a half..in retaliation). Then they all finally clued in and then stopped asking me if I was pregnant. Instead, they started asking me when I was going to have a baby. Or they would ask David. The joys of el barrio. Sigh..

So now I finally am going to have a baby, and I can finally fulfill the dearest wish of apparently every person in my ward. How nice for them. But I did enjoy finally being able to use the word "embarazada" in a sentence. Not that I can say much in spanish, but I DO remember that embarazada does NOT mean embarrassed. It means pregnant:)

Napa trip

2011-06-20T10:01:00.000-06:00

So I am finally getting around to reporting on a trip DH and I went on last February. To Napa. The land of wine and grapes.

We had some friends who invited us and another couple to help them use up some "points" that were expiring on a hotel package. Napa is about an hour and a half from Palo Alto. We had three rooms, one of which had a full kitchen. We stayed there Sunday and Monday nights, ate lovely food, even visited a winery!

Napa Valley is all about wine tasting and tours. We didn't want to pay to go on a tour when we were mostly paying for the wine tasting at the end that we wouldn't be tasting! We ended up visiting a winery and doing a short self tour. The shape of Napa Valley reminded me a lot of Cache Valley in Utah (minus wine and vineyards!). There is literally one vineyard after another. There are SO SO many.

Here are some pics while at the vineyard:

I'm inside a wine barrel!

Me, Christine, and Silas

1120 gallon barrel!

3 years of love and soap

2011-06-19T07:44:00.000-06:00

Happy 3rd Anniversary to me! The soap saga continues. For earlier episodes, read here and here.

Our soap has survived 3 years in the Hansen bathroom. We use it many times a day. It is amazing supersoap. (I think it is because it is a low lather soap that it has lasted so long...that and it was huge to begin with).

Poor little soap. You have broken into tiny pieces. But you still live. For now. We thank you, soap. You have been good to us.

David the Graduate + no more secret

2011-06-13T16:28:00.000-06:00

Yesterday was David's graduation from Stanford. He looked super awesome in his special outfit.

You might think there is a degree certificate inside of that thing he is holding. But, no. Instead he has a certificate that says, Congratulations, You're Almost Done! (David won't actually defend his dissertation until early August.)

My parents and David's mother came to the ceremony. It was great! The commencement speaker put in all sorts of economics jokes which I even thought were funny. I guess I've been living with an economist for three years now:)

Another perk was that they gave us food. As a response, David said, "Economists know that hungry people don't donate as much money." Right. Economists are smart.

You can watch a recording of his "hooding" here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W_bJa3Wr13I

As for the SECRET, it is no longer a secret. Because we are telling it. Hence, no more secret. I am having a baby and it is due December 20th. We alternate between calling it the "poor little christmas baby" and "Emperor Palpatine." :-)

Talking Picture

2011-06-09T15:24:00.001-06:00

David and I bought our first video camera. We did a test recording to make sure it would record correctly at David's graduation ceremony.

Here is the test run. David totally pulled this out of his hat, with about a 2 second warning. If you've never seen Singing in the Rain, watch this first: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-j8GwkniGrU

(It you can't see the video, watch it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HUEAevcIwao )

Goodbye.

MLIS graduation / Impending Provo existence

2011-06-06T10:14:00.000-06:00

My graduation.

It happened.

On May 21st.

I totally forgot about it.

But that hardly matters though, since I wasn't planning to go anyway.

But YAY I'm done.

Now I am the master. (hehe...) Again. Master, to the power of two!

Now I'm a little bit bored...

What should I do now?

Options:

1) I could always take advantage of the full tuition waver I qualify for now that I'm a spouse of future BYU faculty. I never did get to take concrete and steel design. (And now you all know of my impending Provo existence. My future self will be living there. Starting end of August. With my current husband. I will have more to say on this. Later.)

2) Or maybe I'll get a real job?

a) as a librarian?

b) or civil engineer?

3) Or a fake job perhaps?

4) Finally join an orchestra?

5) Finally resume piano lessons?

6) Become an amoeba?

I'm thinking options 3-5 sound the best. Option 1 strikes terror into my very soul. I am a Ute, after all. However, I may succumb. Eventually.

my love life and the importance of Sarah Olson's car

2011-05-30T10:33:00.000-06:00

Sarah Olson. She so rocks. Knowing her changed my life. (As I think she has for many others.) This may sound dramatic. But really, it was her absence that caused one of the more beautiful events of my life to occur.

If I didn't know Sarah Olson, I never would have sublet her apartment and lived at Melville House for several months while she went to Ghana.

Sarah Olson had a car. An old BMW I think. It lived on Melville Avenue. We would move it every now and then so it wouldn't get towed. Then my car broke down. And I took the liberty of borrowing her car.

I was dating this boy, see. DH was his name. He didn't have a car. And so it went that I always drove because I had the car. It sort of irritated me. Yeah. So when my car broke down and we borrowed Sarah's (she wasn't using it!), I took advantage and forced DH to drive.

We went to a Good Friday concert put on by the Valparaiso Singers. I wore green. He held my hand. Then he drove to his apartment. This is where Sarah's car became the factor that altered the events of that night.

If my car hadn't broken down, I would have driven us to the concert. Then I would have dropped him off. I don't think I would have walked him to his door. It was cold. I was in short sleeves and a skirt. I was also sort of afraid he would kiss me. I was going to escape back home and remain unkissed. (Yes, I was a wimp. I was also 23 and never kissed before.) I would have stayed in the drivers seat, given him an awkward hug over the gear shift, and then he would have got out of the car. And I would have driven away.

But my car did break down. And we borrowed Sarah's car. I made him drive. Hence, when we went to his apartment to drop him off, I was still in the passenger seat. I had to get out and walk to the other side of the car to get into the drivers seat in order to drive myself home. And well, what happened when our paths crossed outside the car was totally because of Sarah Olson and her car.

Thanks for "letting" me borrow your car Sarah. It was a memorable experience.

at long last

2011-05-23T22:31:00.000-06:00

Finally, after being a mormon for 27 years (or should I subtract 8?), the missionaries knocked on my door.

Unfortunately they didn't want us since we're 1) not single and 2) already members. (I should mention that they are missionaries that work in the singles' ward boundaries.)

Alas. Next time we should play dumb. Too late now. Our one and only chance might have passed us by.

bay to breakers race recap

2011-05-16T11:00:00.000-06:00

So yesterday I ran in the 100th Bay to Breakers 12K. It was much tamer than in previous years, according to some of the people I met and spoke with. My race time was 1:43. It was really difficult to keep running the whole time--there was just no space to do it! By the time I got to the start line, at least 25,000 people had started in earlier waves. There were so many people walking that they took up nearly the entire road. I had to weave around a lot and nearly crashed into several people who suddenly stopped running. The race starts right by San Francisco Bay and runs west across the city to the coast.

It was such a crazy day! It started out on Caltrain. The brakes went out on the train I was on and it took an hour for us to transfer to another train. The train I was on was packed with costume wearing people on their way to the race. We had to jump from one train to another (though there were people there to help us cross). Then we finally arrived and I still had to walk about 1.5 miles to the meeting point. I was so late that the "corral" I was supposed to start with had gone 30 minutes before. So I went in with a later group. The later the group, the more people were walking. I'd have had an easier time running if I'd been in my own start group.

I counted 15 naked people running the race. Only in San Francisco! Not that I was seeking them out or anything, but they are hard to miss! And if I passed one, I did NOT turn around to confirm. I'm sure there were many more than 15 though, since there were 50,000 people there.

It was fun to see all the costumes people wore. There weren't any floats allowed this year, so it was less interesting to spectators. But I'm glad I got to run in the infamous race before we leave the area. The weather was great and it was extremely entertaining.

facebook headquarters

2011-05-09T10:33:00.000-06:00

I live about a 10 minute walk away from facebook headquarters. I've been meaning to get a picture in front of it for at least a year now.

DH and I had some friends over for dinner and we walked around the neighborhood afterward. First I showed them the house with the toy decorations. The woman who lives there is constantly rearranging and redecorating. This time there were lollipops hanging in the bushes and Aladdin action figures in a pot by the sidewalk. There are a lot of other things too--it is a sight to behold. Drive down college ave in palo alto...you won't miss it!

Next I showed them Mark Zuckerberg's house. whoop-de-doo.

Then we stopped for the photo at facebook. For such a large and far-reaching company, the size of the logo is sort of anticlimactic. It is seriously only like 4 inches tall. And this is the only sign visible on the property.

And yes I know my shoes are awesome, no need to point this out.

the good husband

2011-05-02T10:09:00.000-06:00

...took out the trash for me. And did the dishes. And even bought me a reese's peanut butter cup. I really like those. Then he bought a chocolate bar for himself but let me eat half of it.

He eats the leftovers I don't want to eat. And he likes them.

But then he laughs at me when I make the "aaahhhhh!" distress noise. He thinks it is cute. It is true I usually make said shrieking noise when I drop food on the floor, but that is beside the point.

The point is, I have a good husband. Yay for me.

He even has moderate reactions to theft. Like yesterday when he was munching on something and I say, "hey come over here. What are you eating?" Then he shows me his three cashews. And I take them all.

He is turning 30 in June. I will still be 27. We will both be multiples of 3. At least for a little while. He rocks.

And yes I know I changed tense halfway through this post. So what.

poll: excessively important

2011-04-25T10:11:00.000-06:00

David and I received a lot of marriage advice before and after the big day. Some of it was contradictory. Several people told us to never go to bed angry, but then others told us the opposite, that it's much better to wait until the next day and talk with a cool head. Which do you think? DH and I aren't really sure.

San Francisco Bay to Breakers

2011-04-18T11:05:00.000-06:00

I'm running in my next race 4 weeks from now. It is only 7.5 miles (12K), much shorter than the half marathon I did last February. I think it is the perfect length based on my burn out at the 8-mile mark during the half marathon.

Bay to Breakers is a huge deal in the Bay Area. It is like this big (and notorious) party. This year is cool because it is the centennial race and so registration is *limited* to 50,000 people. In honor of the 100th race the security is being tightened and there are no parade floats or alcohol allowed. I did see beer being passed out at one of the drink stations during my half marathon, but I'm sure it was nothing compared to what has gone on at Bay to Breakers in past years.

Alcohol or not, I'm actually going for the purpose of running (and not partying) so I'll probably be ahead of most of the revelry.

teehee! I am excited.

This is the only picture I have from the day of my half marathon, taken after I got home from the race. I forgot to put it up before. J-the-magnificent, doesn't that watch look familiar?

obsession

2011-04-14T10:28:00.000-06:00

I have become obsessed.

with Bengal Spice tea.

I am unashamed.

stringing you along: part 2

2011-04-11T10:01:00.000-06:00

I can safely assert that I have taken excellent care of my cello(s), at least since age 12. ish.

Certainly, I have taken extra good care of my final-destination-adult-sized cello, which is still in my possession. You have been with me since I was 14. You have been my friend. You have been eerily in tune for most of the last thirteen years. (I am 27. 27-14=13. Ahem.) And your strings have NEVER broken. (Which is, for all you non string players out there, quite miraculous.)

Until last night. The unthinkable happened!! Poor ancient C string. Your days are over. Forever. There is nothing left for you now.

Luckily, I have this ancient stash of extra strings in my kitty music bag. (thanks mom, those cats will live forever). I know replacing a dead ancient string with a non-dead ancient string is asking for trouble, but we shall see. Maybe this next string will last another 13 years.

But the thing is, I had never changed a string. In all my 22 years of playing the cello, I never changed a string. NEVER! I was like a fake musician. A wolf in musicians clothing. I was false. But I knew this day would come. The day of exposure and then my true colors would shine forth.

And my true color did shine when, last night, with the help of YouTube, I changed my poor broken ancient C string and swapped it for a new (albeit ancient) one. And it worked! I so rock. And I did it with the clock ticking. (I might have perhaps procrastinated practicing something until 1 hour before the practice started, at which point I discovered the death of said C string. And I even had time left to practice. And write in fingerings.)

So thank you very much, the wolf has gone. Now I can say I am a true musician because:

1) I can string a cello

2) laura's cello and I are friends
3) I can play the cello in the dark

And, NO, you can't borrow my cello. Sorry. I do not feel bad about this.

For the sake of posterity, this post was written on 3/24/2011, and my string broke on 3/23.

stringing you along: part 1

2011-04-04T10:34:00.000-06:00

Dear laura's cello,

You have been good to me.

But, historically speaking, have I been good to you? I might have mistreated several of your predecessors. When you start playing a musical instrument at the tender age of 5, you should expect havoc. Poor little baby cellos.

1) There was the bow-under-the-couch-cushion incident (resulting in a broken bow hanging by the hairs...), but that is behind us now. I think I was 5 or 6 years old at the time.

2) Then I might have accidentally stepped on a medium sized predecessor (which left a crack in the side of the lower body). But I was only 8 years old!

3) I might have doodled on you with the metal end of the bow a few times (in my former years as a callous youth. Yes, it was an evil horrific action on my part.) I want to say that I doodled on the same cello I had already stepped on, so it was a lost cause anyway:)

4) I have tripped over you and knocked you over numerous times. Too many to count! Cellos are tricky things. Beware of the end pin. Beware of the bridge. Beware of the scroll. They all protrude from the cello. Luckily, my mother believed in carpet.

5) Then came the day that I got the hard cello case. I still have you, laura's hard cello case. Of the original 5 shiny buckle clasps, only 3 are still in working order (and one was torn off at some point). When did Leslie marry Russ? That is the year I got you, dear cello case. Before that, I had only the flimsy cloth case, hence the occurrence of #2. I want to say I was 12 years old. Maybe mid 1990s. I have abused you too, poor case. I have kicked you, scratched you, stepped on you, and even sat on you. Intentionally. Yes, you did make a nice seat on occasion. But, you are awkward to carry and were always bruising my leg. So maybe we're even.

Thanks for everything. (more like, sorry for everything.)

Sincerely,

laura's cello's owner, A.K.A., LRH

emergency book tracking

2011-04-01T13:44:00.001-06:00

I have long been a fan of Fantasticfiction.com. This is nothing new. They introduced author RSS feeds a couple years ago which was also fantastic, but now that has been discontinued. I used to be subscribed to the RSS feeds for my favorite authors so I could know about upcoming releases with minimal effort. Since they have discontinued the RSS feed service, I suddenly I find myself without any way to keep track of favorite author new releases. (A very serious problem!) My research on this issue has come up with several things:

1) I am not alone. Many people want this sort of tool.

2) Many publishers let you do author tracking via their website, but you have to go to a bunch of different websites for various publishers (not all of which will offer the service) and that takes too much effort. I want something centralized.

3) LibraryThing does not offer it. From what I have read, any author feeds they might automatically produce would be 99% alternate editions of old works, and not new stuff.

4) Goodreads has a new releases monthly email where they will email out the new releases for the upcoming month from authors that you already have on your goodreads shelf. The problem with that is it only draws from a public shelf AND from every author on the shelf. You can't select specific authors regardless of whether they are on your shelf or not.

5) Fictfact is a website that lets you track series. This could be helpful if you only read series that already have at least one book published. This will not track authors alone and doesn't have standalone works on the site at all. It does have RSS feeds though. Fictfact as it is does not meet my needs.

6) AuthorAlerts is likely the best option so far (for me) for a centralized author tracking system. I am trying it out. It looks like a relatively new site and imposes limits on the number of authors you can track. You start with 10 but can increase that to 100 if you "like" them on facebook, tweet about them, or blog about them (and then tell them you did it). I asked the site owner if the limit will ever be higher than 100, and they wrote back saying that the limit is really more like 3000, so basically unlimited. This site has RSS feeds for both upcoming books and recently released books for the authors you select, which is great. I'm hoping this website works out.

suggestions are welcome.

last stretch

2011-03-28T10:54:00.000-06:00

So I'm into my last semester of my library and information science degree. I cannot tell you how glad I am to Git-R-Done. I was so enthusiastic at the beginning (3 years ago), but that is long past. Now my enthusiasm is for finishing. My mother is astonished that I don't care about attending my graduation. But, I'm just done. Don't make me go to campus one more time. Don't make me wear that hat and wait for hours while the trillion other people graduating in my program receive their diploma. This will be my 3rd university degree, after all. I think I'll go the beach instead.

(yes I know I'm so conceited now aren't I)

By the way this is my new fav song. It has an awesome cello part!

kitchen staples

2011-03-21T10:40:00.000-06:00

There are staples that belong in the kitchen, and then there are staples that do not! I have just made possibly the most frightfully stupid and brainless mistake known to my short career as a slovenly housewife.

It went like this. I was making dinner all normal-like.

(all normal-like, for those of you who may be wondering, is the same as saying in-a-normal-fashion.)

(in-a-normal-fashion means not being crazy)

(and crazy means crazy)

So I went to open a newly purchased packet of dried sage. It was in a plastic bag with the paper label stapled over the opening. I pulled out the two staples and left them on the counter while I measured out the sage for the soup. Then I used an elastic to wrap up the label and the bag and put it away. And then, naturally, I threw the staples away.

OR SO I THOUGHT!!!

Toward the end of the meal, DH found a staple in his soup. No--not even that! He found a staple in his mouth of food! ACK! I nearly expired on the spot. I tried to remember what I did with the staples. I threw them away, didn't I? But it was undeniably, a staple. There are no other staples in my kitchen. I must have put them in the soup! Which means there is one more staple hiding in the soup. What if he'd choked on it and died? It is a horrible thought. What if I swallowed a staple and didn't realize it? Is that possible?

Lesson #1. NEVER PUT STAPLES IN SOUP

Lesson #2. ALWAYS THROW THEM IN THE TRASH

Lesson #3. DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME

While transferring the leftover soup to a storage container, I was extremely pleased to discover the second staple. PHEW! Now we will still eat the rest of the soup (which was quite tasty otherwise) very very carefully, but without quite as much worry! Feel free to laugh. I give you leave. I have proven my slovenly housewifeness beyond the shadow of any doubt, if there ever was one.

2 haiku

2011-03-14T11:57:00.000-06:00

So I like to write silly poetry. It is a silly thing. I mostly like to write them to other people. I was often tempted to write little poems on my homework during grad school to provide entertainment for the T.A.s, or maybe to apologize for the agony of looking at my work. I feel confidence that there was agony. On both sides.

But the latest poem I wrote was while I was tutoring a friend (in math). She wrinkled her nose at the first one, but liked the second one. I think the first one is pretty awesome though. For sure. So here they are. My two haiku. For you all.

my calculator

makes my heart beat super fast

when I press the keys

flower in my heart

guarded tightly in my soul

blooms when I'm with you

PS. I looked up haiku just now and it is just like celery. Singular and plural forms are the same! Also, I must give credit where credit is due. DH wrote the second line of the second haiku.

The Anthropologie Super-Villains

2011-03-07T11:35:00.000-07:00

I, like many Palo Alto girls, adore Anthropologie. There is one located within the city. It has a sales rack. Once I went in and there was a super-sale rack! For 4 months I lived not 4 blocks away from the store. Anthropologie is on the corner of Addison and Alma streets. So poetic.

And I, also like many Palo Alto girls, can't afford to shop there. Alas. I do own 3 articles of clothing that came from that store. Also, a few kitchen items and some place mats. Some were wedding gifts, some sale items, some super-sale items.

I also receive the catalog. It is very entertaining. So much so, that I was stuck with the desire to tell a story using the pages of the catalog. This would not be possible with just any clothing catalog. All catalogs have pictures of models wearing the clothing. Anthropologie goes beyond that and sets up a background for the models as well. Each picture could be a story...

The images here were taken from the online March 2011 catalog.

Preface:

Here begins the serial story of the Anthropologie Super-Villains. These stories are written at lightening speed with zero forethought, preparation, research or skill. As such, they will likely be ridiculous, confusing, inconsistent, and possibly irritating. BUT, the idea of annotating the Anthropologie catalog seems vastly entertaining and so I will do it anyway.

The Anthropologie Super-Villains

by lrh

It all started one bright summer morning when Sasha the head sorceress walked into her tower-cottage with antique furnishings. She was returning early from her daily walk in the woods because she'd forgotten to feed her favorite pet mouse, Saruman the White.

Saruman the White was nowhere to be found because somehow the front doors to her cottage had been thrown open in the short time she had been gone. Sasha was surprised but by no means daunted. She was wearing her special necklace that day, and the white beads gave her special psionic powers that allowed her to communicate with animals.

Sasha closed her eyes and was preparing

to channel the energy of the beads when she heard someone turn on the faucet in the kitchen. She rushed in to see her twin sister Trista holding a cup of spiced tea. The aroma was strong enough she could recognize it from across

the room.

Sasha spoke hurriedly, "Were you successful? Did you find the cave where we stayed last Autumn?"

"I thought I could see it from afar off but as I got closer I grew distracted and somehow wandered into a yarrow patch shaped like a designer hand bag."

"Yarrow? Did you not wear the protection head dress I fashioned for you?"

Trista looked embarrassed but confessed, "It didn't match the rest of my ensemble. I truly thought it would be alright since I'd seen it from a distance."

Sasha looked irritated. "Well, the cave must be concealed by a spell of some sort. Is there any tea left?"

Trista looked into the earthenware pot shaped like an elephant and discovered she had used the last of the tea leaves. "Well, no there isn't."

"Nevermind, I need to go back outside and look for Saruman. We can gather herbs as we look." Sasha turned and walked back to the door. Trista had just caught up when Sasha turned to her and asked, "Did you see him at all when you came in? He must have gone out when you left the door open."

Trista looked up quickly and replied, "No, the door was wide open when I arrived. I thought you'd left it that way."

Sasha looked thoughtful for a moment and shook her head. "I always close it when I leave. What if Saruman was kidnapped! I could never live with myself if he ended up in the wrong hands. He is a special mouse, after all."

Walking out of the tower-cottage, Sasha felt her skin grow cool, as thought she'd walked into a shadow. She looked up to see the sun was blocked by a giant bird descending rapidly toward the landing strip in her front garden.

Looking over at Trista, she said, "Don't worry, it's only Socrates with my new organic place mat."

-----

To Be Continued...

pivotal moment

2011-02-28T11:26:00.000-07:00

I was just thinking about my rocky courtship with DH. There were many pivotal moments, but I often think about the one that was the most important. It took place on March 31, 2007 in a gmail chat conversation, well over a year before we married.

This is it. This is what I typed after staring at his green dot for 45 minutes.

me: I think I've done the wrong thing, dh.

And that was the moment.

Short, but important.

It is ok to be wrong! You don't have to know everything. Or anything. I know nothing, Lady Bracknell. To be sure.

Never underestimate g-chat!!

(And for those of you out there who don't know me in person, DH does not stand for Dear Husband. They are name initials!)

Suddenly I have that song, "From this Moment On" stuck in my head.

extra cheese

2011-02-21T13:39:00.000-07:00

There is this pile of extra towels in a wicker basket I keep in the bathroom. I haven't used more than the top towel or two in the years I've had them sitting there. DH thought we should scrub the floor (gasp!) underneath the basket and had the audacity to suggest moving it. Shocking!!!!

But we did and it was a good thing too. Some water must have gotten under it at some point because there was a slight discoloration of a few spots, but luckily nothing too scary. I decided to unload the basket to make sure there was nothing evil going in it its dark depths. Luckily, there was nothing evil. But to my surprise, I discovered much more than a pile of clean towels. I discovered the hidden treasure trove of bath and shower kits we'd gotten as wedding presents! I totally forgot they were there. In addition to the fizzing bath balls, bubble bath, and multiple bottles of shower gel, body scrub, etc., I found something... more.

It was a container of Kraft parmesan cheese!!! YESSSSS now we can rest easy knowing that the cheese is safe. The best part is that the expiration date on the container is 3 weeks BEFORE we got married 3 years ago. Poor cheese. You never even got a chance.

sisterly love

2011-02-14T13:26:00.000-07:00

Facebook is a special place where you can have even more special conversations. Ahem.

12/10/2010 LRH: um.

12/16/2010 LRH: so yeah.

12/17/2010 JW: okay

01/05/2011 LRH: psha

01/10/2011 HH: zif

LRH: zif zif

01/11/2011 HH: whatevaaarr

JW: eee er eee er eee er

01/12/2011 HH: your butt goes eee er eee er eee er!

JW: Your mouth goes... uh, never mind.

LRH: no, no, its your face!

HH: Where did A. learn that again?

JW: Aunt H.

HH: zif

JW: so, you acknowledge your guilt?

JW: Laura's face? Yes, Laura's.

LRH: what-evar

race reflections

2011-02-07T10:27:00.000-07:00

I ran my half marathon yesterday. It was a really beautiful race course. The race went through Golden Gate Park in San Francisco and then down the coastal highway right next to the beach.

I did really well the first half of the race and was running at a good clip, but then I began feeling sick. I slowed down and ended up walking off and on for around 3 miles near the end, but ran the last bit. I felt sick for the rest of the day too. I want to blame it on the orange gatorade I drank at an electrolyte station, but I really have no clue why I felt so nasty.

I did learn a few lessons for next time.
1) Don't drink so much! There were more water/electrolyte stations than I needed, and I didn't plan very well. Around mile 6 there was a water station JUST before the electrolyte station, which I didn't realize. So I ended up drinking too much there and at a few later stations, so that had natural consequences!

2) Bring some kind of energy boost to eat at mile 7. I began to feel really tired at mile 8.

3) Practice running faster over long distances. I definitely ran much faster during the race then I regularly do, so wasn't sure how much water my body needed or when I would get tired. More experience and more time training would help.

I was amazed at how much litter is left on the race paths following drink stations. There were garbage cans on the side of the path, but most people just drop the paper cups on the ground as they run. It was strange seeing so much trash on a public street. I was glad not to have to clean up after!

I am definitely going to do another half marathon at some point, I think I just had bad luck getting sick. I think doing some 10K races would be fun in the interim.

P.S. My race time is not worth mentioning...:) No, it took me 3h 15 min. I am short and so can't walk very fast, so the time I spent walking added a significant amount to the total time. I was keeping up with the 2H 30 m group until I felt sick.

belts, etc

2011-01-31T10:59:00.000-07:00

Belts are most interesting.

I hate them.

Why wear a belt when you have hips? Hence, I avoided it for a while. But then came the hipster jeans. And then came the stretchy jeans. Alas. When you are running to catch the train, the last thing you want to worry about is your pants.

Belts are uncomfortable. They might perhaps help hold up your pants, but if your pants are large enough to need a belt, then the belt loops are invariably placed too far apart. Then you find yourself, like me, scrunched up with the waist of pants poking out from under the belt. That's right, Laura the scrunchie.

I went for years without ever wearing belts. I hated tucking shirts in as well. To me, belts and tucked-in shirts are in the same evil family. Shoulder pads are somewhere in that family tree as well.

I had a series of unloved belts as a child. There was the black braided one that I never wore. The navy blue fabric one that was a hand-me-down. Maybe one of my sisters wore it? I know not. Then there was the black leather belt that literally had my name imprinted on it. I think everyone in my family had one with their own name on it. I forget whose idea that was. But I rarely wore that belt either.

My dad always wore suspenders. One year for Christmas he got white suspenders with cows on them. They were awesome. One of my favorite things to do (as a child, I should point out! But to be honest, its still a favorite thing even if I resist doing it) was to tighten his suspenders while he was sitting down. They were always really loose when sitting you know, so I was only trying to be helpful. I also liked to re-adjust the loose fabric of his collar shirts so it puffed out in the wrong place. Suspenders make it really easy to design special puffs, you know.

So then I did eventually get a belt in college that was for my hip rider pants. I actually wore it too. For a while, anyway. That was years ago though. (like...7)

I was realizing today that all the jeans I own at the moment require a belt for one reason or another. In fact, I am wearing a belt at this very moment. How could this have happened?

Yesterday I was wearing pajama pants. (Pajama pants is for lack of a better word. What are they? They are NOT actually pajamas. They are loose, stretchy, and comfy. Are they lounge pants? Comfy pants? Jammi pants? I know not.) But they are way too long and were dragging on the wet sidewalk as DH and I were walking somewhere last night. As I was pulling them up a bit, DH decided it was time to sing the "pants on the ground" song.

You know I have never seen American Idol, not even once? Apparently this "pants on the ground" song is a big hit.

Apparently, belts help keep your pants off the ground.

the Egg Issue

2011-01-24T10:40:00.000-07:00

Oatmeal cookies are my favorite cookie. Growing up, I used to make them as bar cookies by pressing the cookie dough into a cookie sheet. This is one of my mom's favorite shortcuts. She did it not only with cookies but with muffins too. Muffins were always square growing up and rarely made in muffin cups.

But now I can make round cookies. I am an adult. I can do what I want.

Yes, oatmeal is my favorite. Oatmeal Raisin, to be precise. I imagine some of you may gasp at the lack of chocolate in my favorite cookie. It seems that most people are of the opinion that chocolate chip cookies are the best. These people have somehow been lead astray.

Whenever I make oatmeal cookies, I invariably want to "consume mass quantities." (name that flick! My parents quoted this movie for years..and still do.) For this reason, I try to make a smaller batch. But one always runs up against the Egg Issue. I recently made this recipe. (Though I hardly ever make cookies anymore..)

the Egg Issue: a problem arising when only a fractional amount of any given recipe is made and the number of eggs resulting is not a whole number

How does one deal with the Egg Issue? In the recipe I made lately, it calls for 2 eggs. Thus I halved the recipe, but there were still too many cookies. What do I do if I want to make only a fourth of the recipe? How do I get half an egg? Do I just round up and use a whole egg anyway? Do I toss the extra egg bit?

My opinion is that rounding up to a whole egg is a bad idea. Extra egg white is like extra baking powder--it could make the cookie rise too much and be cakey. One solution would be to just mix an egg and use only half of it. Then you could freeze the rest or toss it. Or you could save it for an omelet or scrambled eggs the next morning. If you feel lazy, it is better to sacrifice half an egg then be tempted by too many cookies, in my opinion anyway.

first half marathon

2011-01-20T10:28:00.000-07:00

I am running a half marathon (13.1 miles) the first weekend in February. It goes through Golden Gate Park in San Francisco.

I registered for the race and have my "bib" so there is no going back! I am number 4183. I have not, as yet, come up with any special mathematical significance to this number. It is not a prime number, alas. But perhaps it will be special from now on?

This is my first real race. I've done church 5k runs in the past, but this is the first race that I've had to register and train for. I am excited!

I started training in early December and am using a training schedule from the race website. I have two short and one long run per week. It has been really interesting to see how my body reacts to running such long distances. I jumped into the schedule midweek in week 4 (or the week starting dec. 6) and did the 6 mile run. I was already used to running 2-3 miles 3x a week, but I was so tired after that first long run! I was very fatigued for the next couple days. Since then I have been taking naps on my long run days and that helps a lot. Unfortunately I have missed the last two weeks of training because I have been sick, but I am getting back into it this week.

I don't have any great aspirations for running speed or time, I just want to do a race and train for it. In fact, I'm more worried about getting to the race then running it! Driving in San Francisco is one of my least favorite activities, but parking in San Francisco is worse. I do have moderate goals for the race though. I want to run the entire race and finish in under 3 hours. We shall see!

super long titles

2011-01-17T10:56:00.000-07:00

I have spent time lately looking through a cartobibliography for a work related project. It contains lists of old maps, some images of them, titles and other descriptive info.

I remember when I took 10th grade biology and our teacher read aloud the title of a book he'd written. It was the longest title EVER and the class sort of snickered at that. Not too many years after that I realized that a lot of academic writing and papers have ridiculously long titles. Since the title may very well be the only thing a prospective reader sees, the author wants it to be explanatory. Then there are the authors who write vague or "punny" titles. Those can be attention grabbing as well. But.

I've discovered that antique maps fall into the former category. That is, their titles are ridiculously long. So long, that the cartographer might give up halfway through and write something like this:

A Map of North America

With the European Settlements &

whatever else is remarkable in the

West Indies, from the latest and best Observations.

That is a real title from 1745! It's my favorite ever:)

I should name my future memoir in that vein:

LRH: the story of her life, love, and whatever else is remarkable in 100,000 words or less

the heel

2011-01-13T11:10:00.000-07:00

I made persimmon bread with some pulp I froze a while back. The recipe is here. It was very tasty.

So as you know there are two kinds of bread slices: the heel, and the middle. Each has its advantages. When the bread is old and dry, the middle is best. When the bread is new and dry, middle is best. But when the bread is moist on the inside and crunchy on the outside (which is what happens when sweet breads cool on a rack), the heel is THE BEST.

(I must point out that this is my own opinion. DH thinks the heel is the best at all times. It took me a while to believe that he truly preferred the heel and wasn't just trying to be a martyr by claiming he wanted it. My mom always did that. Yes, my mom, the heel martyr. She also "likes" cold leftovers. Whatever mom. You know you like them reheated. We both know.)

So usually I am content to let DH eat the heel. But not with warm persimmon bread. I took the heel without asking him first. I took it and took a few bites. Yum. THEN I told him that the bread was ready and did he want some? But he saw I was consuming the heel. He was just a little bit sad until I reminded him that there was still ANOTHER heel and there is no rule against eating it last. So we both ate heels first.

teehee

walking the plank

2011-01-10T11:01:00.000-07:00

Last month the curb was replaced in front of my house. (Let me be clear..it is really more like an apartment and we rent it, but technically it is half of a very tiny house.)

I must say, having no curb is inconvenient.

No parking and no driveway access.

There were perks though.

We got to stare into the rocky depths of what used to be the curb. We got to enjoy winning the contest for most flashing barricades in front of our house. But the best part was, we got to walk the plank. It was our sole method of crossing the rocky depths. Too bad we didn't have a pirate party while construction was going on.

i am an evil genius

2011-01-06T10:43:00.000-07:00

So we spent Christmas in Utah this year, as usual.

University of Utah won the BYU-Utah game this year so David had to wear his brother's Utah tie to his home ward over christmas. Except I got to wear it the day before. Its odd that I don't have any pictures of David wearing it though. Maybe he removed the evidence on the sly.

We spent our days literally dashing to and fro (what a clever allusion, I must say). It was tiring, but fun. We managed to get one picture with both of us in it. We are dancing a jig.

My favorite parts about christmas this year were receiving the Popple, watching my nephews open presents christmas morning (we slept over at my sisters the night before), and discovering my nephew Luke's latest cutism. He is talking a lot now (age 2) and has a maniacal laugh. His dad has trained him to say, "I am an evil genius, mwahahahaha!"

I said four

2011-01-03T10:25:00.000-07:00

When I was little (and likely before I was born) my grandparents used to interview us at Christmastime. My family has our biggest Christmas celebration on Dec 23rd. We have a lot of home videos from this night from previous years, and they often include the interviews. One of the most notorious interviews that went down in family history starred me, age four, being interviewed by my paternal grandmother.

Here are the highlights:

Grandmommy: How old are you Laura?

me: four.

Grandmommy: what?

me: I SAID FOUR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(my family likes to quote me on this. Incessantly. )

----

At some point during the interview I begin to pinch my nose.

Grandmommy: What are you doing that for Laura?

me: your breath is stinky

--------

Grandmommy: What do you want for Christmas Laura?

me: a popple.

Grandmommy: what?

me: A POPPLE!!!

-------

But no popple came that year. In fact, no popple came any year after that and I'd soon forgotten about my dearest christmas wish.

Until this year.

We had interviews again, for the first time since I can remember, and my mom interviewed me. On camera, she gives me a present. (This is strange, because we already opened all the presents--or so I thought). She tells me to open it. She said she has waited 23 years to give me this present.

I opened it to reveal....

Meet Priscilla the Popple. Now I can die happy.

spanglish quoting

2010-12-30T10:27:00.000-07:00

Dear Senora Showalter,

I will never forget you and how you worked for 2 years at being my spanish teacher in Jr. High. Aside from the spycams and the fake money you passed out, the thing I remember most about your class is the word, "muy." Not only did I learn that muy = very, but I also learned how to say it. Like a cow says moo. Plus eee. Together this makes. Moo-eee. Or, alternately, mooie.

Gracias.

P.S. Your flowy pants are also extremely memorable. And the apron where you kept the fake money.

---

I am inventing my own Spanglish phrases to use. They are muy helpful for sounding like a gringo/(a). The first phrase (the only one so far that I have remembered, at least) is:

many hands make muy rapido

this is code for: many hands make light work.

I think after two years of church in Spanish I can finally say that my Spanish has improved a sliver of a fragment.

lamentations

2010-12-27T10:35:00.000-07:00

(Read this older post for the story of the soap)

Dear Soap:

You have lived 2.5 years now. It has been a good life. You have proved to be the most long lived of your kind. Never will we meet another like you. We have not treated you gently. We used you many times a day. But your purpose was good and noble. We have clean hands.

Let us not be overcome with sorrow. You may have broken your wing, but you will rally again. Our hands are still clean.

brilliant solution

2010-12-23T10:08:00.000-07:00

I have come up with a brilliant (yet obvious--possibly so obvious you don't think of it?) solution to solve my lack-of-doing-dishes-motivation woes.

The solution is...use fewer dishes!

Thank you very much, it only took me more than 2 years of complaining to think of it. (I say two years because, while I've done dishes by hand for over 5 years now, I've done significantly more cooking since marrying DH (hence more pots to clean) and lets not forget the million bowls he uses.)

The best part of this solution is the implementation strategy. How to use fewer dishes? The answer: Get rid of all but two bowls, plates, and sets of silverware! Yes. This might work. ("Get rid of" can be loosely interpreted, of course. My version of "get rid of" is to put extra dishes in a slightly inaccessible cabinet with my China plates.) Now we will not be tempted to grab the clean bowl instead of cleaning the one in the sink, because there will be no other choice.

Let us cross fingers now.

Hanukkah

2010-12-20T10:23:00.000-07:00

DH and I had Hanukkah last night. We ate:

potato latkes (deep fried! I've never deep fried anything before.)

cream cheese cookies

eggnog (store bought, but tastes like homemade. )

and watched:

Christmas Everyday

Will Vinton's Claymation Christmas

and listened to:

Adam Sandler's Hanukkah song

It rocked.

We like celebrating all kinds of holidays. We are going to get a Menorah for next year.

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

An aside: For those of you who know me on Facebook, I posted our family Christmas newsletter a couple days ago if you are interested in seeing it.

most unlikely conversation

2010-12-16T10:04:00.000-07:00

Setting: the steps in the church foyer

Date: two Sundays ago

Parties Present: me. Anna. Six missionaries.

----

Anna doesn't speak English (picture a sixty something Salvadoran grandma). I don't speak Spanish. I do keep a spanish/english dictionary in my church bag though. Our weekly ritual is to sit on the steps of the foyer before church and attempt to have a conversation. I am there early because DH has meetings. She is there early because she feels like it..I guess.

Today I was attempting to explain that I like my glasses, but I don't like wearing them. My dictionary wasn't that helpful in figuring out how to say "wear" but we finally figured out it is llevar. Then luckily the six missionaries that serve in our ward boundaries showed up (early for their ward council appearance) and I immediately asked them to assist.

Me: "So I thought that llevar was to carry, not wear?

Missionary 1: "Well it means both."

Anna: "No me gustan sus zapatos."

Me: "Apparently she doesn't like my shoes."

At this point the dictionary has fallen open to a very special page. The words at the top of the page caught my eye--"bathing trunks." So naturally I ask the missionaries (one of which is a native spanish speaker) for more information. While most missionaries in the area learn Spanish, the native speaker has learned English.

Me: So what are bathing trunks? Taparrabo? Is that like swim trunks?

Missionary 2: {laughter...followed by incomprehensible rapid spanish}

Missionary 1: I think it's the word for speedo.

Me: like they bathe in a speedo?

Missionary 2: no, but it's like Tarzan's outfit.

Anna: Taparrabo? Tarzan? {cackle cackle}

Missionary 1: or like a loincloth

Then we all laughed for 10 minutes and they all learned that I cry when I laugh too hard.

Later DH told me that Missionary 2 told him to ask me what word I learned today.

Now I can say "loincloth" in Spanish and know that I learned it from a missionary.

haiku for janie

2010-12-13T10:26:00.000-07:00

you are my heart friend

with or without sliding doors

we are forever

---

Posting frequency note: I have started blogging more frequently of late. Instead of letting my blog languish for long intervals of time (as I have previously), my goal is to post twice a week from now on, probably mondays and thursdays.

more hangman, a morbid affair

2010-12-08T09:50:00.000-07:00

I made a hangman post a while back about its popularity in the primary class I teach.

But there is more to say.

Latest developments:

1) One kid (ok..its Hyrum) always guesses X and Z. Nearly every time. I think he's trying to murder the poor victim.

2) Now we are experimenting with the hangman victim. Last week everyone wanted it to be an old lady. She had wrinkles and reading spectacles.

I am teaching tiny impressionable tots about murder and cruelty to the elderly, it seems. Oh well. At least they'll be able to spell.

my laundry list

2010-12-07T09:26:00.000-07:00

In my favorite movie ever, Northanger Abbey (1986, the one with Peter Firth--no relation to Colin Firth for those wanting to know), Catherine finds some "old laundry lists" (or were they bills? either way..I've always thought of them as lists) in a secret compartment attached to a desk (i think a desk..). What could possibly be on a laundry list though?

1) wash clothes

2) dry clothes

1) do laundry

1) hand wash Ann Taylor silk top

2) drip dry libby's $5 shirts

3) wash everything in cold water

Or not.

No, my laundry list is a list of YouTube videos that I play while folding laundry. Please don't judge me too harshly here. On YouTube my laundry list is called "Dance Mix." For obvious reasons.

1) Rick Astley -- Never Gonna Give You Up

2) Lady Gaga -- Poker Face (yeah yeah, ha ha already)

3) Robbie Williams -- Millenium (it rocks..and he laughs in the song, which makes it more awesome. Also DH does a great imitation of his "i'm cool" nod too)

4) Ke$ha -- Tik Tok

5) White Gold --One Gallon Axe

The end.

how to hold a sandwich

2010-12-06T10:08:00.000-07:00

David and I have a favorite argument. He holds his sandwich with thumb on top, palm underneath. I hold my sandwich the opposite way. He claims his way is more stable and far superior. (I like to try to get him to drop his sandwich to test his claim.) He has to twist his arm and his elbow pokes out in order to hold the sandwich that way. I've never seen anyone else eat a sandwich upside down like that. We always argue about the right way to hold a sandwich. My way is the right way, of course, and his way is upside down. (Thumb underneath is the right way to go. If it is a big sandwich, you can use two hands. There is no way to use two hands doing it his way.)

Then one day I remembered some incriminating evidence I had in my possession. While on our

honeymoon, we went to an awesome sandwich place called Logans Heroes. Not surprisingly, DH ate a sandwich there. And I took pictures.

See this picture. He is caught red-handed, as it were, holding his sandwich my way--the right way. His cover is blown.

fear of public speaking

2010-12-03T10:16:00.000-07:00

I hate public speaking. I can guarantee that

1) I will never ever become a motivational speaker

2) I will never ever volunteer to speak in church

3) I will always make sure my husband speaks after me so he can use up extra time (speaking thrills him..I can't understand this, but I accept. Gratefully)

I also hate giving presentations. I can't make coherent sentences on the fly. I say things like, "hi welcome to i can has cheezburger presentation this is laura"

Or rather I just did. Good thing I was just practicing.

I have to practice presentations like 10 times minimum. Around time 4 or 5 I start to develop a pattern of phrases and transitions that sound semi-intelligent, so repeat them in the next practice runs. Once everything I am saying is a semi-intelligent repeat of something I said in a previous run, then I know I am safe. Until next time, that is.

pyre of American History

2010-12-02T18:53:00.000-07:00

I have this memory from high school of my friend Jay L. standing over a pyre and burning his AP American History workbook. I only saw a picture of said event, but it was memorable. (I still remember it..so it must be!)

To this day I still have my workbook. I think the textbook was called An American Pageant. Or something. I don't have the textbook, unfortunately. Just the workbook. Lugging it move after move. Saving it along with every page of math notes I ever took from 7th grade on. Not much else has survived from my high school paper stash. I used to wonder if I would ever burn my workbook too. Maybe one year I'd be really cold and use it as fuel. But considering how unlikely it is I'll ever have a real fireplace (let alone a gas one), that scenario is pretty far fetched.

So what should I do with my AP American History workbook? It represents many hours of laboriously scanning the chapter I was supposed to read to fill in the blanks, do short answers, and other tricky time consuming tasks that I was loathe to do. No wonder Jay burned it.

I remember 3 things from that class.

1) Tariff of Abominations, 1928

2) Battle of Wounded Knee, 1890

3) The Louisiana Purchase, 1803, purchased for 15 million dollars at 3 cents per acre.

And that remains my sum total memory of the class.

So Should I ...

a) burn it on my next camping trip

b) bequeath it to Jay in my will

c) be buried with it?

Important decisions here. Tricky. Very Tricky.

the invisible spider

2010-12-02T14:46:00.000-07:00

There is a spider that lives on the wall above my desk. Sometimes when I'm using my computer, I see it out of the corner of my eye. Then I turn my head super fast and it is gone.

Possible explanations:

1. my eyebrow --could it be bushier than I realized? I am not a tweezer, after all. (While at the last ward camp out, I was trying to figure out what a bunch of ward ladies were saying (in Spanish) and I finally figured out they were talking about tweezing eyebrows and makeup tattoos. Ha. Some topics are more cross-cultural than I realized.)

2. my eyelash (but I don't think it is long enough to take the blame, alas)

3. a wisp of hair

4. a dent in the wall that is haunted

5. an invisible spider

It must be an invisible spider that turns visible every now and then to distract me. Except it never moves. Dumb spider.

intervals + super awesome watch

2010-12-01T11:54:00.000-07:00

While visiting Janie in Seattle 3 months ago, I witnessed the use of a miraculous devise.

It is known as the Ironman Timex Ladies watch.

And now I have one too. yes. YEEESSSSSSS. Before this purchase, I was not in possession of a single functional wrist watch. They all lay in my watch graveyard, gathering dust.

It's all about the interval setting. Janie was doing 4 minutes run/1 minute walk. I do 30 seconds sprint/30 seconds jog.

It rocks. And so does my work out.

ps. It was 34 (F) degrees during my run last monday. I was always in awe at people who could run in the cold...like my uncle Craig. Except he's like 40 years older than me. So that makes him even more awesome. But I am excited that I can handle the cold temperatures, especially since I have asthma. So yay for me.

mum

2010-11-30T11:50:00.000-07:00

is the word

we can all has cheezburger

2010-11-29T11:34:00.000-07:00

I am currently taking a vocabulary design course. The final (group) project of the semester is to select a website that needs reorganization in some way. I suggested (thanks to being married to a vocal fan of the website) icanhascheezburger.com. Yes. I am creating a metadata schema for this website. It is by far one of the more entertaining subjects I have studied of late.

One of the metadata elements my group has created is for humor. The values are terms that answer the question, "why is this funny?"

This question is, to say the least, hard to answer.

One question we might ask is this: Why is Dave Barry funny? Some may argue that he is not funny. I am one of these people. Anyone can make fun of current events. (In fact, I have a draft post entitled "my Dave Barry post" that is in the works.) My husband, however, is extremely (extremely!) pro Barry so I answer the question for his sake.

Dave Barry makes fun of life. Life is hard. So we laugh. Laughter is just a mechanism for survival, however, so he is only funny technically (because it triggers laughter in a roundabout way).

Dave Barry, the "technically" funny guy. I am prepared for Barry lovers to now throw rotten fruit at me.

(post tone: sarcastic)

things muy interesante

2010-11-23T17:07:00.000-07:00

Item 1: David always has the most stuff crammed into his pockets as physically possible. When we sit next to each other, it stabs me in the leg and I make him empty his pockets. It also makes for an unsightly bulge. See below:

Item 2: Look at the yolkless wonder. I have never before encountered a yolkless egg. Until now.

That is all for now. The weather continues charming.

names of pets

2010-10-22T10:47:00.001-06:00

Many years ago I decided that I would be a cool spinster that lived alone with two dogs and two cats. I was picturing late twenties. And I had their names all picked out.

But it was not to be. I am now inarguably in my late twenties. Getting later. Which is fine. And I have no pets. Which is also fine. And I married a man who dislikes dogs. That is ok because I'm not the biggest fan of dogs. So long as they don't try and lick me. I hate that.

The imagined ownership of two dogs and two cats was nothing more than whimsy. Especially coupled with the names I chose.

Dog #1: Picture a tiny but loud dog. This dogs name is:

Agamemnon

Dog #2: Picture a giant, possibly scary-looking but secretly nice and lovable dog that does not drool or lick me. This dogs name is:

Sir Snufflepuff (and no this is not in anyway connected with Hufflepuff House).

Cat #1: Picture a cat. This cat's name is:

Confucius

Cat #2: Picture another cat. This cat's name is:

Leviticus

At this point in life, I have used 1 of 4 names. I named my wireless network Confucius. At some point I hope to use up the other names. Stay tuned. And if you for some reason want to use these names because of how amazing and awesome they are, I won't hate you.

Emily Dibb's Hair

2010-10-18T20:09:00.000-06:00

Emily Dibb was in 7th grade orchestra with me (and more..). I adored her hair. I told her I would devote a chapter of my book to her hair. (That is, the book that I was going to write eventually about random stuff. It hasn't been written. YET. Don't give up hope for me.)

Poor Emily has been waiting so long. She likely does not even know that I still think of her--or her hair--quite often. I doubt she remembers it was going to be a chapter in my book.

Here is my 1st mini-draft. For Emily.

----

Emily Dibb's Hair

Emily's hair was like nothing I had ever seen. Thick. Curly. It was long. Like mermaid hair. Long enough that you wonder how long it really was when it was wet. Emily told me once that she didn't like it. Was even poked fun of for it. I forget the exact word she said was used against her, but I would not repeat it if I remembered! Emily's hair should bear no false names. Not even in memory.

But I adored it. And still do. The tiny curling wisps that frame her forehead. The bangs that come and go. Always thick and curly. I wanted it for my own.

twirling

whirling

curling

Emily Dibb's Hair.

worlds of possiblility

2010-10-15T18:08:00.000-06:00

I know how they do it.

Yes.

I KNOW.

For all of you who have tried and failed to take dried black beans and cook them up into what you'd hoped would be a tasty equivalent to canned but then realized you'd failed beyond the extent of comprehension...I feel your pain.

Yes. Pain. Black beans are hard to make just like they come in a can. One might say painful. Or impossible. First, they taste bland. Second, their skins split. And they take forever. You have to soak them for at least 8 hours and then boil them for 2. So how does S&W do it?

Probably just how I did it. They use FRESH black beans. My Salvadoran friends gave me a bag of freshly picked black beans a few days ago. She said not to soak them. Just cook for 30 minutes in boiling water with salt and garlic.

I looked at the beans in the bag. I tried to squash one. They felt hard as rock. I should have stomped on it to check, but I missed my opportunity. After questioning her, I discovered that beans come out of the pod looking the exact same way we buy them in the bulk bins. Except the older they get, the drier and harder they get. Wow.

So I just made perfect beans. Yay for me.

urban slang to the rescue

2010-10-07T15:44:00.000-06:00

"I don't know many office managers who would take a punch for somebody"

"I don't think he meant to"

"He clocked him"

"He punched him out?"

"No, clocked"

"Whats a clock"

"Maybe lets do a demonstration"

Apparently "clock" is not the same as "punch." Urban Dictionary says "to hit someone."

Unfortunately the demonstration came to nothing. For the record, I was not a participant in this conversation. Of course I have never used clocked in a sentence though. Yet.

for the cause

2010-10-01T18:20:00.000-06:00

I signed up to STOP breast cancer before it STARTS. Have you? Join today at www.armyofwomen.org

by dint of the force of the dint

2010-10-01T17:51:00.000-06:00

Dint.

I think I have never used this word in a sentence. And yet, I know it. Five years ago I could have told you the definition of several hundred GRE hit list words. I even tried to use them in sentences. But I forgot them all. Mostly. I still remember:

panacea

recidivism

and

pulchritude.

Many of them did leave a mark in my brain though. Often when I hear a vocabulary term I don't know, I remember that I USED to know it. Is knowing I forgot what it meant better than never knowing it at all? Hopefully.

And yet, suddenly I was seized with the notion that I must write about the word "dint" and even felt compelled to use it in the title in some witty way.

My first thought was to title the post, "by dint of reflection." I was then going to lament how I often recall 3 barefoot steps into the kitchen that I am supposed to be wearing shoes. The kitchen, at the moment, is home to many tiny shards of glass that I am ignoring for a while. Vacuuming and sweeping are tasks I avoid as long as possible. While I did sweep and vacuum the morning following the great glass explosion, I'm guessing I will not do it again until we have people over for dinner. A few weeks maybe. That's the only motivator I have to clean. Probably, there is not much glass left.

Yeah. Hence the shoes. The glass shards will be left in peace by dint of my shoes. Maybe I should re-title this blog "the slovenly housewife." Too bad the blog name is already taken. (http://slovenlyhousewife.blogspot.com/) I could give have given techniques for how to avoid dishes.

By dint of reflection I have decided to create a new tag. Slovenly housewife. It so rocks. There must be a dozen posts so far where I comment on my slovenliness. Now I can revel in it too.

my secret life

2010-09-30T16:28:00.000-06:00

So I sort of haven't blogged about much lately. Thus my secret life.

I was never a journal blogger. Sorry.

But I will give you a few tidbits:

Tidbit #1: My Birthday. It came and went. I am now 27. Here are pics:

Note the binary number candle arrangement: 11011. Yellow is for 0, Green for 1. DH sort of rocks like that. And that is Rhubarb Crisp bytheway.

My favorite shirt. I wear it a lot.

Tidbit #2: I rode light rail in Seattle during (or rather at the endpoints of) my visit to J the magnificent. We watched the complete first season of Lois and Clark. (it so rocks.) It is on netflix instant play now. Janie still had my engagement photo on her fridge so we did a re-enactment.

J's husband has passed away, hence the visit. We were sad together. Love you Janien.

Tidbit #3: I made pupusas twice. Amazingly, while at the store buying maseca for the dough, I overheard a conversation about a nearby Salvadorean restaurant and how they have great papsies. Pipsies. The woman couldn't quite recall. Good thing I was there to supply the correct name. Pupusas. They rock.

Tidbit #4: My most recent mishap was the complete shattering of a glass shelf from our fridge. What joy is mine. That is now the second part from our fridge that will have been replaced. One of the door shelves broke off last year. Alas.

Tidbit #5: I witnessed the super secret arrival of a VIP to Stanford Campus. A couple years ago GW Bush tried to visit Hoover Institute on Stanford Campus. He didn't quite make it. yeah. A bunch of students caused a near riot with their protests and prevented his visit. He ended up giving his prepared remarks at someone's house--George Schultz.

Last Saturday I was helping DH move cube (poor guy. As a sixth year grad student, he now has LOWEST priority and lost his prime cube spot. He is now the scum of the econ department.) We were just outside the Econ building when at least 6 police cars escorted some Mysterious Visitor to Hoover. There were policemen on the street as well. I haven't discovered who it was yet. Who has a high enough profile to get a 6 car escort? Not many. Probably not Arnold Schwarzenegger. Maybe. And I was one of maybe 5 bystanders who saw it happen. 11 am on a saturday?

Hmm.

n^n

2010-08-23T10:17:00.000-06:00

Today is my n=3 birthday.

n^n is a special day.

I will cherish this year of mathematical perfection.

Congratulations to my nephew Alex who is n=2.

Jane Austen's Fight Club

2010-08-11T22:15:00.000-06:00

I must admit I am currently reading Fight Club. I've never seen the movie. I did watch the preview on youtube though--a must see if you are going to fully appreciate the "movie" preview I've embedded below. It is definitely a strange read and pretty deranged. It reminds me of Clockwork Orange (the book) in the way that you don't know what's going on half the time and everybody is crazy.

DH found this clip and sent it to me--apparently filmed by a young single adult LDS ward. Ha! Good for a laugh.

the glory of rice pudding

2010-08-11T21:59:00.000-06:00

I worship rice pudding. It is true. I don't recall ever eating rice pudding before moving to California (Going on 5 years!). It might have been one of those buffet dessert items at Chuck-A-Rama, but I don't remember trying it (or if I did, it was not worth remembering!) BUT then I started to shop for myself (after leaving home) and there was that one magic day in Safeway when I saw Kozy Shack brand rice pudding next to the sour cream...and I bought it. My life would never be the same.

Then came the many attempts at making rice pudding. There was the baked puddings, the stovetop puddings, the one time disaster of a crockpot pudding, and finally more precise puddings that used a thermometer. Some would curdle*. Some would be fantastic. But nothing could match the consistency of Kozy.

*Curdling is a thing of the past. The blessings of living at sea level combined with the delicate egg yolk conspired against me for too long, but now I have outsmarted them. I just keep the heat down:) (Custards are supposed to stay between 185 and 190 F during cooking time to prevent curdling.)

Then came the time when I bought Kozy pudding and it was awful. Yes. It tasted totally off. Then I was afraid to buy it for a while. Suddenly I wondered if Kozy pudding was really the ultimate.

Now after being in El Barrio going on 2 years, I have discovered Salvadoran rice pudding. There is a couple in our ward who like to make it to serve after baptisms (and sometimes go crazy and give it out after church--like last week!). They use a combination of sweetened condensed milk, regular milk, cinnamon sticks, and a lime--rind and all! No eggs! Fancy that. It is quick to make, none of the hours of reducing milk or anything laborious in that vein. Lucky is the one who chokes on a piece of cinnamon and finds part of a lime in their cup. Eat with caution. Oh, but the delight of rice pudding!

Incomplete LIST of rice pudding recipes attempted:

1. The baked rice pudding recipe I used comes from Betty Crocker Cookbook.

2. Simply Recipes: http://simplyrecipes.com/recipes/rice_pudding/

This one I made notes. They go like this:

Turned out great--much more creamy than baked rice pudding. I kept the heat below boiling like she said, and the egg did not curdle. I think I will try sweetening with honey next time (less than 1/4 cup).
SO good. Try with 1/4 cup arborio next time, it was VERY thick. I put raspberries in it and it was so divine.

(I should point out that I used arborio rice instead of the short grain white the recipe called for. Had I used short grain white, it would not have turned out so thick.)

3) Crockpot: http://crockpot365.blogspot.com/2009/03/crockpot-rice-pudding-recipe.html

Notes:

it curdled. Using high heat after putting the egg in was a mistake--it might work on low, but I'm not sure I want to try it again when I have another rice pudding recipe that is great. (simply recipes)

4) Temperature measured: http://www.ehow.com/how_4830558_kozy-shack-rice-pudding.html

I can't exactly recall how this turned out. I think it worked ok, but by this point I had been trying to cut back on rice pudding (since I inhaled it at ludicrous speed) and only made this recipe one time.

5) This one is untested, but highly recommended by some people in a chowhound thread: http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Raisin-Rice-Pudding-762

I need to make this one.

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

As a final note, I must remark how much I adore puddings and custards of all kinds. DH doesn't care as much about pudding as I do, but we try not to let that be an issue in our marriage. But he can surely attest to the fact that more often than not when I'm feeling like dessert I'll say, "I want a pudding."

sprinting

2010-07-14T12:27:00.000-06:00

My Vibram FiveFinger shoes sold on ebay recently. I was glad they could find a new home. It was actually the first time I've ever sold something on ebay. I think I've sold textbooks on half.com, but nothing on ebay. Now I can say I've truly lived.

I went to Fleet Feet in Menlo Park to buy new running shoes. The staff do a great job at helping you pick the right shoe. Oddly enough, I ended up buying the exact same shoe that I already had (except a newer version). I went from Saucony Hurricane version 8 to 11. And now my feet are happy again.

I finally convinced DH to get real running shoes as well. The shoes he used to run in when we got married were dismal at best. Over the past two years of our married lives, with each new shoe purchase I have managed to persuade him to get higher quality shoes. And now he has graduated. Congrats DH. Your knees will be grateful.

We've been trying to do weekly sprints around the neighborhood so he can increase his speed for ultimate frisbee. It is a 1.5 mile loop. I try to maintain full speed the whole time but it is just not happening. It is even harder that the first half is slightly uphill. I can keep up with DH for about a third of the way and then start lagging behind. How is it that he can run faster/longer than me when I have been running regularly for over a year and he has barely run at all?

Alas.

hangman

2010-07-04T22:21:00.000-06:00

Hangman is a favorite game in my primary class. There is one five year old girl that speaks so quietly I must strain my ears to make out what she says. Then there are usually five rowdy boys that are six or seven years old who have all manner of noisy things to say. But on one front they are all united. Hangman.

The construction of the hangman platform has become nearly as important as solving the puzzle. First, I draw the hangman platform. Next, I add wavy lines underneath to indicate hot lava. The hot lava was the first modification requested by my morbidly creative charges. It has become a regular addition.

Today, instead of guessing a letter, several kids wanted to come up to the board and further imperil the hangman. One boy came up and drew a shark with lots of teeth jumping onto the platform. Next, another came up and drew an electrical storm. One very large cloud overhead with several zigzag lightning bolts reaching downward. But he did not stop there. He added spikes to the base of the entire platform except for a tiny area large enough for him to slip through into the hot lava.

I can't wait for next week.

wind in my hair

2010-07-04T21:50:00.001-06:00

Short hair has serious advantages.

First, it looks awesome on me. Lets not mince words here.

Second, my husband has a thing for short hair. This is a delightful coincidence, considering that I will Never Have Long Hair Again. Ever.

Third, when I'm on a bike, the wind whips through my hair and it flies out like a fairy's wings catching the spring air on the way to meet its sweetheart. (The spring air is meeting the sweetheart here, not the fairy. There is only one sweetheart of spring air. It is called San Francisco Bay.)

Fourth, my hair has volume. This long sought after effect has been the result of a lifelong struggle.

Fifth, everyone (female) tells you that the secret desire of her heart is to have short hair but she thinks she will look ugly. Then I say, Psha. Whatever. Take the Plunge. (Although I must confess I did cry a little before going to the chopping block six years ago when my hair was freakishly long.)

Sixth, when you get a hair cut, people actually notice.

so, yeah.

pralines are the thing

2010-07-04T21:34:00.000-06:00

Intro:

This blog post is about my favorite ice cream flavor. In this post I will lament certain things. And then it will be over.

Main text:

My favorite ice cream flavor is Caramel Praline. Sometimes known as Pralines and Caramel. Also sometimes known as Pralines and Cream. It is readily available in Utah. But is it available in California, the state in which I have resided these 5 years? NO. It is not. You can't buy it at the store. You can buy it for 5 dollars per scoop at Haagen-Daz. Does Haagen-Daz make this flavor to sell at the grocery store? No. Grrrr. That is my grrr sound. Like GRRRR you know. It is a mad noise.

I thought my troubles were over when I discovered what is known as Caramel Praline Crunch frozen yogurt made by Dreyers. But it is much inferior, I am telling you there is a serious lack of pralines. Also it is frozen yogurt so there is a failing already. Also, the pralines that do exist are not even crunchy. Grrrrrr.

Conclusion:

I want crunchy pralines. Utah is so Farr away (hehe).

2.0!

2010-06-19T08:15:00.000-06:00

DH and I have now achieved: Marriage 2.0.

yesssssssssss

DH + LR

Oakland Temple, May 22 2010, following Reija's wedding. (pic courtesy of Heather Hammond)

running the distance

2010-06-14T13:40:00.000-06:00

Here begins the story of my runners heart (beware the long post!!). Growing up on a mountain in a steep neighborhood with freezing snowy winters and boiling summers, running was not something I considered for a long time. Though I walked up that hill many times after school, running up that hill (like Kate Bush!) in the heat never entered my mind.

Here is a glimpse of my life through the runners lens:

Summer before 8th grade: I went to a fitness camp. I think I worked up to running about 2 miles each morning by the time I left.
8th grade. I was the orchestra nerd who did zero sports. But then I decided to become awesome and be a track star. I joined the track team and was so excited. I was there for the track team photo that would end up in the yearbook. Then, in the first week of practice, I pulled my quadricep during a 100 meter dash warm up. I could barely walk after that and limped off the field, never to return. I think it took weeks before my leg felt ok again. I never tried out for track again either (that was lame on my part though). Thanks to the yearbook photo, at least I could pretend I was cool and had an extra page listing under my name in the yearbook index.
High school. I have this vague memory of running on the treadmill while reading "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead." I think that was senior year. J, is that right? Anyway. Around that time, I tried to run a few times a week on the treadmill. It didn't last. Most books require hands to keep them open. My parents had a treadmill with a tv above it in their bedroom that I also tried using. The tv would shake a lot if I started running though. Lame. Super lame. Hence, my brilliant running career was postponed.
College. Behold the indoor track at University of Utah. Fear it not. The last two years I was at U of U I ran on the track for about 40 minutes 2 or 3 times per week. It took a while to work up to running steadily the entire time. There were three lanes. The (clockwise) outer lane is for slow people. The middle lane is for passing. And the inner lane is for the non-stop I-rock-and-you-don't runners. They even run counter-clockwise so you can admire them more frequently as they pass you by. I wanted to be cool like them. I did eventually achieve semi-coolness and began running on the inner track, yet I was still frequently lapped by the speedy ones.
Then I moved to sunny Bay Area, land of perfect weather year round. I started my masters degree and began stressing. I actually did homework on saturday nights. (I somehow managed to avoid doing homework on friday and saturday nights until this stage in life.) One saturday night in October I got really mad and decided to storm out into the night and run. Not the wisest thing to go out running in the dark alone, but I ran the 4 mile campus loop for the first time that day. And I kept doing it several times a week for the next two years. It wasn't always consistent, but I tried. I ran in the rain. I even tripped and rolled into a bush once. I rock.
Meanwhile during #5 I bought a pair of running shoes I saw in a magazine. (Probably the most I've ever spent on a pair of shoes..but money well spent.) I still run in them 5 years later. I am seriously overdue for new shoes. But I have tried and failed to find the perfect ones as yet. My pair of Vibram FiveFingers which had so much promise turned out to be too big. I should have worn them for a few miles on the treadmill to be SUPER SUPER sure about the fit before taking them outside and rendering them non-returnable. I am trying to sell my pair. If successful, I might try again with Vibram. Next, I purchased a pair of Adidas at Nordstrom Rack. But it turns out they make my feet hurt. Serves me right for trying to buy running shoes at a discount price.

And now we have reached the near present. Last spring (09) I started running three mornings each week. It became a habit. Yay! I love to use gmap-pedometer to design running routes of sufficient distance. I am trying to gradually increase my mileage and have several routes to choose from for variety. Today I ran 4.25 mi. Hooray!

excessively important comparisons

2010-06-10T18:54:00.000-06:00

A group of students at U of Washington made the following video, a parody of Lady Gaga's Poker Face. See below.

Librarians Do Gaga:

vac*

2010-06-10T18:26:00.000-06:00

VAC: This is the cost code I use to charge vacation time at work.

Vacaville: Very important city on I-80 in CA. I think they've got an In-N-Out too.

Vacation: what I did last week. sortof.

DH and I partied with the family in Utah. A lot of partying. Good times were had. And now that we are back in P-town, it feels like the vacation has finally started and we can lay around:)

mr photogenic

2010-06-08T22:44:00.000-06:00

DH is so cute. Even when smirking. I adore him. :)

He is now 29. This is his first prime number in 6 years. Poor guy. He's had to wait so long.

yes, that is a mini cheesecake. courtesy of moi.

explanation

2010-05-28T18:58:00.000-06:00

You may be aghast at the inexplicable increase of posting lately. Three days of consecutive posts compared to a lot of nothing.

Well.

Let me tell you the reason.

The reason is:

oBvioUS

Can you guess?

(the capitalized letters above happen to spell BUS. Did you notice? This has nothing to do with the reason though. Ha. I'm super tricky like that)

So.

the oBvIOuS reason is...

(that time the caps spell BIOS. If you don't know what BIOS is, then consider yourself lucky)

school is out and I am a free woman till fall!

Yayayaya

Now I can watch this video over and over with no time restraint:

the decline and fall of the british empire

2010-05-27T22:13:00.000-06:00

Is a book. DH is reading it. This is the cover:

4 words:

this photo is hilarious

why hem when you can STAPLE

2010-05-26T12:45:00.000-06:00

The Egg: one eternal round

2010-05-17T19:39:00.000-06:00

So.

Have you ever noticed that the majority of recipes that call for an egg yolk (minus the white) are for dessert?

And another thing.

Have you ever noticed that the majority of recipes that call for an egg white (minus the yolk) are for dessert?

Yes. I have noticed both these things.

Macaroons. Angel food cake.

Pudding. Flan. (Hollandaise sauce is not in this listing. Nor is mayonnaise.)

If one is trying not to waste part of an egg, one is forced to make two desserts. This might be considered a hardship by some. Others might toss the half they don't use.

To this end, I actually spend time looking for non-dessert recipes that use egg whites. If you have some, please share.

I recently discovered that you can freeze egg whites for 12 months and they turn out ok. Egg yolks, not so much though.

Alas.

more applesauce

2010-03-03T20:14:00.000-07:00

I must point out that there are many inaccuracies in my previous post. Trader Joes, I have recently discovered, has more than 2 kinds of applesauce.

At least now you all know how much I think about applesauce.

I also think about grapefruit. A lot.

The end.