The Wonderful World of Eden

The Problems I Never Expected To Have

2011-03-04T12:34:00.005-07:00

Everybody has problems. But some problems could never happen to you--or at least that's what you'd like to think. Typhoons, the zombie apocalypse, alien probing--these are the kinds of things that happen to other people.

But as I look back over my life, I realize you should be careful what kinds of things you put into the "won't happen to me" category, because life has a way of surprising you. Here's a list of things I never expected to have to worry about (but got anyway).

At age 10 I never expected:
-Homework that's too hard to understand
-Taxes
-Broken cars
-Broken hearts
-Confusion about what to do with my life
-Loneliness

At age 20 I never expected:
-To worry about the consistency of someone eles's poop
-Running out of clean towels
-Finding grape jelly on the carpet
-Having to explain to a child that there are bad people in this world
-Not feeling up to "it" tonight
-That stretch marks really could happen to me
-Having to watch what I eat

At age 30 I never expected:
-Body parts that begin to wear out...long before their expiration date
-Bullies would be an issue again, and that it would be so much worse than the first time because this time they're not hurting me, they're hurting my child
-That teenagers would see me as old
-I'd have to acknowledge the physical/emotional/mental/spiritual challenge pregnancy presents to me...and that we may have to stop at two children, though I'd always wanted more
-That some days I would feel like my brain was totally wasted on my stay-at-home mom gig.
-My children are growing up so fast it seems they're slipping through my fingertips like sand, and I'm powerless to stop it, or even slow it down

Which problems did you never expect to face?

Don't Judge Me.

2010-04-10T10:38:00.010-06:00

I like to cook, and I firmly believe one of the secrets to really delicious baked goods is using top quality ingredients. Little details, like always using real butter or choosing really good chocolate, make the difference between good cookies and great ones. Above all, I always use real vanilla. Its flavor is superior and it transforms your end product. But real vanilla is expensive, and you blow through those tiny bottles so fast, sometimes it's hard to justify the cost.

Then several years ago I saw Martha Stewart (pre-prison) show her viewers how to make your own vanilla. It's much easier than I'd have ever guessed, and pretty cheap.

You start with about a dozen vanilla beans. I order them online at amazon or ebay and I can usually pick them up for about five bucks (with shipping!). There are two varieties of beans, Tahitian and Bourbon. They're both good, but the Bourbon beans make a stronger vanilla, so that's what I usually choose.

Then you split your beans in half with a sharp knife and put them in a fifth of vodka to soak for about 6 weeks. The alcohol in the vodka (it's about 35% alcohol) distills out all the oils and flavor and produces the most delicious vanilla you've ever tasted, and the longer it soaks, the better it is. I just leave the beans in there indefinitely. This makes me enough vanilla to last about 18 months and costs around twelve dollars overall.

Now the problem with homemade vanilla (and here's where I was headed with this post) is the vodka. The only place to get vodka in Idaho is in a liquor store, and since I'm a practicing Mormon (which means drinking is against my religion), I was always a little squeamish about buying it. I guess this is probably hypocrisy, since I have no problem buying commercial vanilla (which has the same alcohol content), using NyQuil (which probably has MORE alcohol than vodka), or buying mouthwash (which I hear has the most alcohol of all!). I mean, I don't DRINK these products for a buzz, and I don't have a problem using them. And I don't feel bad about making homemade vanilla. But the liquor store part? That still gets to me. What if someone I know sees me go inside...or worse, come out carrying that tell-tale brown paper sack?

So, the other day I ran out of vanilla, which meant it was time for another trip to the liquor store. I decided to just get it over with yesterday and marched right in. It was a Friday night, but the store wasn't busy. As I stood browsing the vodkas (man, there sure lots of varieties! I usually just buy the cheapest one, but it looks to me like you could spend a LOT of money on a bottle of Vodka), a trio of girls came in the store. They looked, for lack of a better term, like party girls who were a bit past their prime: a little overweight, clothing that wouldn't have fit them 20 pounds ago, and make-up applied with a trowel

I found my rot gut vodka and got in line. Then I got that feeling that someone was watching me. I turned my head to see the party girls, glaring at me with undisguised disgust. They were SO hostile! I should mention here that I am 5 1/2 months pregnant, and the little baby bump is starting to show, so I guess they thought they had cause. They got in line behind me, and as I paid they continued to stare poisonous darts at me, stage whispering about the pregnant alcoholic who was killing her baby with the cheapest vodka the store offered! I suppose I could have told them I was making vanilla and had never actually had a drink of vodka in my life, but I thought it was too funny and I wanted to savor the moment.

After they'd paid, they walked to their car and continued to stare at me as I drove away. I'm sort of hoping they took down my license plate number and called Child Protective Services because THAT would be REALLY funny! I mean, I wouldn't even take a teaspoon of cough syrup when I was sick last month because It has alcohol in it and I wanted to be sure the baby would be safe! I think being contacted by a state official about my "drinking problem" would make for the best story of all time! Can you imagine?

So anyway, just a reminder for you from the "pregnant lush"--be careful before you judge someone; if you don't have all the details, you may make a serious error. And even when you do have all the details, who appointed you Master of the Universe?

Oh, and try making your own vanilla. It's awesome!

P.S. Sorry for adding comment moderation. Some idiot keeps commenting in Chinese.

Easter Fail

2010-04-05T12:10:00.007-06:00

One of the hardest things about being "The Mom" is that you're in charge of all the holidays in your house. Decorations, special meals, traditions...they all rest on you. And I'm discovering that means a lot of WORK.

As a child, I guess I just sort of took it for granted that there would be turkey on Thanksgiving, presents on Christmas, and candy on Halloween. We were never really big into celebrating most holidays, but still, the bare minimums were there. I never thought about the planning, shopping, preparing, and cleaning that went with even modest celebrations.

Well, since I'm the mom now, I want our family to have fun, meaningful traditions, but (surprise!) they don't just happen. I have to create them--and it's hard.

For Easter this year I put in lots of effort. I bought the eggs and the dye. I put out cute bunny-themed dishes of "anticipatory candy" the week before. I bought an adorable Easter dress for my daughter. I planned family pictures. We were having company for Easter dinner, so I spent all Sunday morning making a fancy meal using Spring foods. My daughter's Easter basket had all sorts of fun surprises and she was thrilled with it.

Sounds like I covered all the bases, doesn't it? Well when my daughter said her prayers last night and thanked Heavenly Father for the Easter Bunny but didn't mention Jesus, it became perfectly clear: I'd failed. Big time.

I look back over the day, and now I can see that we put all the focus on the secular, and none on the spiritual. We didn't read the Easter story from the Bible, or even talk about it. I spent most of General Conference cooking, and though I was "listening" to it on the kitchen radio, the only version broadcast in my area was in Spanish and really static-filled. And yes, I speak Spanish, but I wasn't really giving it my full attention. By the time the afternoon session rolled around, I'd fallen asleep and I missed the whole thing. By the evening, I realized I'd made some huge blunders, so I tried to do a bit of correction by studying my scriptures in bed for an extra long time, but when my husband kept rolling over in an "angry way" (and if you're married, you know exactly what I mean) I finally gave up and shut out the light.

This morning I've seen many people talk about what an enlightening, spiritual day they had, and I feel like I cheated everyone out of the best part of the holiday by not being prepared. I'm going to try and remedy some of my shortcomings at Family Home Evening tonight, but I still feel like a giant fraud.

I guess I'll just have to dedicate myself to doing better next year.

Why is it so hard being the mom?

A little controversy...and a plea

2010-02-16T12:45:00.003-07:00

I'm not one who is afraid of saying what I think; my mouth gets me in trouble on a regular basis. So in the timeless spirit of "to thy own self be true," I'm going to post some of my recent pet peeves. Proceed with caution (and know that if you do something from this list, I still love you, regardless of how much you annoy me!).

1) Costco.

I love Costco...just ask the workers. They know me so well that they wish me happy birthday when the day rolls around. Okay, just kidding about that, but I truly do love Costco. What I don't love are what I call "Costco Barnacles." You may not be familiar with the term, but I guarantee you'll recognize the definition. They're the people who love Costco, too--but don't want to fork out the $50 each year to buy a membership. "Oooohh, you're going to Costco this week? Would you mind picking me up some ______."

I had one "barnacle" say to me, "I just can't bring myself to by Gogurt in the grocery store when it's so much cheaper at Costco." Well, do you know what, lady? I pay fifty bucks each year for the privilege of cheap Gogurt. Not that I mind paying the fee--we make it up with cheap tires, cheap contacts, and yes, cheap Gogurt. But why should I have to subsidize your grocery budget? If you want to shop at Costco, buy a darn membership yourself!

2) Vaccinations

I vaccinate my child. I do it because I feel it's best for her and for our community. I accept the (albeit minuscule) risk that comes from vaccinating because I think it's the right thing to do.

I also understand that there are people who choose not to vaccinate. It may be for health reasons, religious objections, or just because they believe it's too dangerous. When you could vaccinate, but choose not to, I think it's a bad move--but I try not to judge.

But one day I heard a non-vaccinating mother say "Why should I vaccinate when everyone else in little Susie's class gets vaccinated? She's safe by default." My blood boiled so hot, I thought it would vaporize. Why? Because you're letting MY child take the risk so your child doesn't have to. I'm not okay with that kind of selfishness. If you don't want to vaccinate because you don't believe in it--fine. But if you don't vaccinate because you'd rather have someone else's child take all the risks, I think you're a pig.

3) Life Insurance

This isn't really a rant so much as a plea. If you are a young parent please, please buy life insurance. Please.

I know what it is to be young and poor (believe me, I know). I understand that the thought of adding another monthly bill to your already-stretched budget seems ridiculous, but the younger and poorer you are, the more you need life insurance. The next time your spouse is late coming home, imagine for about 5 minutes what it would be like if he or she wasn't coming home at all. Something like a poor split-second decision by a driver is all it would take to make that a reality. How would you be financially? Could you pay the mortgage? Buy food? Arrange care for your children? And could you continue to do these things until your children are 18?

That's why you need life insurance.

I've watched so many tragedies in my life where young, healthy people are taken in the blink of an eye. In many of these cases there was no insurance, and the surviving spouse was reduced to looking for donations just to scrape enough money together to put the deceased's body in the ground. It's a cold, hard reality.

A $100,000 policy only costs ten or twenty dollars a month, and that goes a long way towards making a terrible transition more comfortable. If my husband passed away, I'd actually be quite a comfortable widow, and though I'd MUCH rather have him with me, it gives me peace of mind to know that if the unthinkable happens, I won't have to move, sell my furniture, or beg from relatives.

If you're not insured, please think about it.

So these are my thoughts and rants for the day. If you have a pet peeve you'd like to share, I'm all ears!

Nothing To Say

2010-02-11T10:44:00.003-07:00

For weeks I've felt that nagging voice in the back of my head whispering you really should write something on your blog, but--and this is rare--I found myself with nothing to say. I'd pull up my blog and stare at it thinking, just write something, but nothing came.

I've been blessed with the gift of gab. In fact, you might even call it my curse; I'm never at a loss for words. Yet for some reason I couldn't come up with anything. And the strangest thing about this new state of "muteness" is that I have plenty of material to talk about. Here's just a small list of the things that have happened since I wrote last:

*The Holidays came and went, complete with food, presents, and family time.

*We passed our anniversary. Nine years, baby.

*I resigned as the PTO president at my daughter's school, deciding (perhaps for the first time ever) that my life was much better without the added drama.

*My beloved grandmother, Virginia Savage, passed away. She was such a guiding force in my life, so inspirational. I still can't quite believe she's gone.

*We sold an old car and bought a new one.

*And of course, the big news, after so many years of nothing, we were surprised with the news that I'm pregnant. We were happy with our little family of one child, but everything is going to change now. There will be seven years between our children, so I have no idea what life will look like, but I'm excited to see.

I don't know. Maybe I expect to have something witty or meaningful to say every time I write a post, but unfortunately, my life isn't always great source material. In fact, lots of the time is is simple, routine, and even mundane. If I only write about the impressive experiences or the penetrating insights, I suspect new entries will be rare. I'm realizing that for most of us, those moments of clarity and inspiration are few and far between. And they're sandwiched between scrubbing toilets, paying bills, and (if you're newly pregnant) throwing up your raisin bran.

So I'll continue to try and enjoy the little wonders that surround me: hugs from my daughter, billowy purple clouds, the incomprehensible flavor of a perfect orange at it's peak, and the miracle of seeing my tiny baby wave hello through the ultrasound for the first time.

Maybe these things won't rock anyone's world, but they're the stuff mine is made of. So that's what I'll write about. And maybe you'll come along for the journey.

Welcome back, friends.

Eat This....

2009-10-16T11:47:00.004-06:00

I love Philly Cheesesteak sandwiches. They're just so yummy! Unfortunately, they're not really easy to find in podunk Idaho, and every time I've had a homemade version, it ends up tasting like fajita filling sandwiched in a bun (which doesn't taste bad, but it's just not a cheesesteak).

Then I discovered this recipe and it has changed my life. Okay, not really, but it does taste good. We had it for dinner on Wednesday and I've happily eaten the left overs the last two days for lunch (which is the highest compliment I can give a food--I do not eat left overs). I'm not normally a "recipe posting" kind of blogger, but I think this one is worth it.

The key is "shaving" the steak in a food processor, which gives it exactly the right look and taste. This is really a fast, easy, yummy dish. Give it a try and I think you'll agree that it makes a great sandwich.

PHILLY CHEESESTAK

Ingredients:

2 pounds sirloin steak, trimmed of all extra fat,cut into 1 inch wide strips and partially frozen until the exterior hardens but the interior remains soft (about 45 minutes to 1 hour in the freezer)
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 small onions, chopped
1 clove of garlic, minced
Salt and fresh ground black pepper
6 slices deli-style provolone cheese or 5 tablespoons Cheese Whiz
4 large sub rolls, cut open and lightly toasted

Directions

1. Using a food processor fitted with the slicing disk, force the partially frozen meat through the feed tube using the plunger and "shave" the meat. This step is crucial; it creates the right texture for the meat. Don't be tempted to skip it or just use a knife to chop the meat--your sandwich will NOT taste right.

2. Heat the oil in a 12 inch nonstick skillet until shimmering (about 2 minutes). Add the onion and saute until softened and well browned around the edges, about 4-5 minutes. Add the minced garlic, the meat, 1/2 teaspoon salt and pepper to taste. Cook until the meat is fully cooked, 2-3 minutes.

3. Turn the heat to low and place slices of cheese over the meat. Allow the cheese to melt, about 1 minute. Using the tip of a heatproof rubber spatula or a wooden spoon, mix the melted cheese and meat together thoroughly. Again, don't skip this step; a real cheesesteak has the cheese mixed in and for some reason it just tastes better this way. Remove the pan from the heat and spoon 1 cup of meat into each toasted bun. Serve immediately with desired garnishes (Jeff likes barbecue sauce and grilled red peppers, but I think it's great plain).

Enjoy!

Bits and Pieces

2009-09-10T08:06:00.010-06:00

Presenting, for your reading pleasure: Bits and Pieces (or the post where I drop random, totally unconnected thoughts that have been in my head this week).

_______________________________

I'm 33 years old and I've just discovered a major truth in my life: I don't like eggs. You would think that a person would be immediately aware if they didn't like a food, but somehow I've been eating the stupid things for my entire life without considering how little I actually enjoy them. Scrambled, fried, boiled, poached...it doesn't matter. Immediately after eating them, my stomach always hurts and my throat feels "thick." It's weird. I wonder if I'm mildly allergic?

Anyway, I'm not going to eat eggs anymore. At least not by themselves.

_______________________________

On another note, isn't this the most useless piece of footwear you've ever seen:

It's a bird! It's a plane! No, it's flip flops that are lined with shearling! For warmth? No, that can't be it; flip flops are inherently not warm, so adding insulation wouldn't make sense. For Style? Well, that CERTAINLY isn't it; these may be the least stylish shoes I've ever seen. For comfort? Well, I suppose you could argue that, but upon further inspection, I think you'll agree that these shoes would be decidedly uncomfortable; if you wear them in the summer, your feet will be too hot, which means sweaty, stinky, matted fleece under your soles (ewwww), and if you wear them in the winter, your feet will get frost bite (and personally, I know if I lose a toe I'd never be able to count to 20 again).

What's worse, LL Bean has the audacity to charge $40 for these monstrosities (the blind, gullible, and fashion ignorant can find them here).

Well, I won't put up with it. I'm taking a stand. No more innocent lambs should be slaughtered to make a shoe that's not only pointless, but so ugly that they trigger an uncontrollable gag reflex. These shoes have no moral or legal reason to exist and should be banished immediately. _______________________________

Bugles are a very tasty snack and they deserve to be more popular than they are. Seriously, why aren't we eating these with every meal?
_______________________________

And, last but not least, have you ever noticed how ROUGH biker chicks look? I'm not talking about tough (which is kind of a given with the whole leather/hog/born free thing), but rough--in their looks. Seriously, I don't think I've ever seen an attractive woman on the back of a motor cycle except on TV or in ads.

I mean, here's the perception:

and here's the REALITY:

I don't know. I guess you could blame the years of unprotected sun exposure, wind, and diner food, but without exception, the biker chicks I've seen in real life all seem to have such damaged skin that you could easily mistake their faces for some kind of coin purse. Their hair would give even a hardened stylist nightmares for weeks. Their outfits would make PETA and Stacy London cry.

This is a lifestyle choice I cannot begin to comprehend. Well, I guess like the old Harley-Davidson motto says, "if you have to ask, you wouldn't understand."

Oh, Barbie, you used to be a classy lady...

2009-08-25T09:14:00.018-06:00

Take a walk down the toy isle of any major store and you'll quickly see that there are thousands of options available for the discerning boy or girl. Toy trains, toy kitchens, toy animals, toy cars--the variety is stunning. Most of the trends come and go and today's hot commodity is tomorrow's clearance bin fodder. C'est la vie.

But there are a few toys that, by some miracle, remain popular from generation to generation. They are the classics. Legos. Candyland. Etch-a-Sketch. Matchbox Cars. And of course, Barbie.

Or at least Barbie used to be on that list of classic toys. But everyone's favorite fashion doll turns 50 this year and like many other beauties to come before her, she seems to be taking that news very hard. Instead of evolving into a graceful woman of sophistication and beauty she's gone off the deep end! It's a sad, but common thing to behold: middle aged women who dress, behave like, and actually seem to believe that they 21 again. Alas, our poor, dear Barbie seems to be infected.

Case in point: available now for your young daughter's play-time joy is the Totally Stylin' Tattoo Barbie. This is not a joke. The 50 year-old grande dame actually comes with a tattoo gun so your precious princess can "ink" her up. She even has a pre-placed "tramp stamp" on her lower back to inspire your little budding tattoo artist. (Barbie's Bunny Ranch Brothel, Positively Pimpin' Ken, Skipper's Totally Tweakin' Meth Lab, and Kelly's Fun Time Rehab Clinic are sold separately)

Now I never claimed that Barbie made the most ideal role model in the first place, but pardon me for a moment while I ask WHAT THE HECK? I mean, Barbie, at least you used to have some class. This most recent incarnation puts you in the company of other desperate women of-a-certain-age who can't let it go. Is that really what you want? Take a cold, hard look at this:

Dear, misguided Barbie, is what happens when an older woman tries to act half her age. She becomes a joke; a funny looking, silicone bearing, animal print wearing joke. You're don't have to go there. You can be beautiful and classy, even at 50. It is possible! Just look at these real world examples of grace and style, and they're all over 50 (some even over 60!):

Barbie, here's my birthday wish for you: grow up. You heard me. Grow up and claim your birthright as the classy doll. You don't have to compete with every new trend that comes along--you can be yourself and thrive as an independent, timeless, unforgettable woman. Do that, and I expect we'll be seeing you for another 50 years . . . and beyond.

Craptastic Senior Citizen Dancing

2009-08-21T08:29:00.005-06:00

It's not nice to laugh at other people, particularly people who are old, disfigured, or incontinent. But I can't help myself in this case. The following video is proof positive that some personal experiences should NOT be shared with the world-at-large (fast forward to the 53 second mark to see the deliciousness):

How to Remove Tar from Your Rear End (and Other Bits of Folk Wisdom)

2009-06-02T10:56:00.005-06:00

Yesterday I took my daughter to practice with her new singing group. The class was held in a large, old church. While she sang, I sat in a corner and watched. When the rehearsal was over, I started to stand up to leave, only to feel a tugging, sticking feeling as the seat of my pants pulled away from something glue-like on the floor. "Great" I thought. "It's probably an old Jolly Rancher or something disgusting--and these pants are brand new."

As I turned around and surveyed my behind, I realized it was much, much worse. I'd sat in a glop of tar, which had left a quarter size black blot squarely on my left haunch. I ran to the bathroom and tried to sponge it out while it was fresh, but if anything, the water and soap seemed to set the stain.

"Just my luck." I muttered. It was the first time I'd even worn the pants. I'd paid more for them than I normally do, but I liked them so much, I figured it was worth it. And now they were ruined. I figured it must be the universe punishing me for being too extravagant.

And just then, from the murky, swirling memories of my very young childhood, I seemed to remember my Grandma Riley telling me that gasoline removed tar from clothing. I even thought I remembered her keeping a small glass jar of it in the laundry room

With a small spark of hope in my heart, I hurried home to give the remedy a try. I grabbed a plastic cup and poured in a few inches of gas. Laying the pants on my washing machine lid, I dipped an old toothbrush in the gas and, holding my breath (both figuratively and literally), began to scrub the spot.

The results were instantaneously and like magic. The tar dissolved before my eyes. I felt like cheering! And then I looked at the cup and realized that tar isn't the only thing gas can dissolve. My plastic cup had melted like ice on a hot stove and at the exact instant I reached for it, it disintegrated like dust. As I thought back, I remembered that my grandma had always used a glass jar--apparently for a good reason

Gas poured all over my washing machine lid, flowing to the edges and into the tub itself...which was full of towels in the middle of the spin cycle. I lifted the lid to be greeted by fumes so strong, they burned my eyes

I started the laundry over with a double-dose of detergent. When it was done washing, the fumes were still strong enough that you could have ignited them. After the second wash, it still smelled like an oil refinery. By the third wash, the fumes were mostly gone (though the towels still smell like they were used by mechanics). Four washes later, I decided we'll just have to live with it. I'm sure the faint smell of gasoline (mixed with Bounce) will fade in time.

As for me, my pants are saved, thanks to that wily, grand old lady, Ellen Riley. And if it seems like my family is wearing Eau d'Chevron perfume, well that's just the sweet smell of success.

It Hurts Like The Dickens

2009-06-02T10:13:00.003-06:00

The other day I was looking at the last pages of an old copy of Les Miserables. It had a list of "The Fifty Most Important Classics" (according to the publisher, anyway). Out of curiosity, I started counting. It turns out I've read 39 of them. Not a bad total, but for someone who would like to be considered well-read, especially in the classics, there is a gaping hole. And that hole is Charles Dickens.

I feel somewhat sheepish when I admit that I've never read a single book by Dickens. It's not that I haven't tried--I've begun A Tale of Two Cities at least a dozen times, but I simply can't get excited about it. I usually have a "50 page rule" where I'll give any book a minimum of 50 pages to capture my interest, but with Dickens I can't even make it past 20. I know the man is considered one of the great masters of English literature, but he's like eggplant to me: I know it's supposed to be good, but once its mushy, bitter flesh hits my mouth, I can't stomach it, no matter how much I should like it.

Thanks to Masterpiece Theatre, I'm actually pretty familiar with many of Dickens' greatest works, at least enough to be able to fake it amongst intellectual friends, but I feel like a fraud. I keep meaning to read his books, but somehow I put it off, like a chore that you detest, even though you know needs to be completed. I guess Dickens is my back closet. I know that needs to be cleaned out--no one knows its there, and there are so many other things to do, so you leave it for another day.

I've recently been re-reading the great classics of the French Revolution: Les Miserables, The Three Musketeers, and The Scarlet Pimpernel and logic dictates that I should read A Tale of Two Cities next (since it IS considered the definitive work about the period). So I dragged out my old copy--battered and used by someone else, mind you--and started it...again.

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...." Aargh! This is painful. How does anyone get through this?

As of today I'm at page 22 and still suffering. People love this stuff, so what's wrong with me? I'm worried that some secret literary Gestapo may come confiscate my library card! What am I missing? Is there some secret that makes Dickens more appealing? Anyone have any advice?

Wanted: Blunt Friend Who Can Tell It Like It Is (No Experience Necessary)

2009-05-21T15:03:00.009-06:00

A few months ago, we had a family photo taken. It's one of those obligatory things we do every year; we dress up, comb our hair, and try to keep our eyes open as they recreate the Abu Ghraib experience with cheesy poses and blinding flashes of light.

Because I'm somewhat a photography buff myself, I'm pretty picky and it seems I'm never happy with the pictures we get. Either the lighting is off or the pose looks stiff or the picture isn't framed well. It's always something.

Well, this year, the actual photography was okay (not stellar, but acceptable), but the thing I hated was my eyebrows. As I scrutinized the pictures, I realized my eyebrows were horrifying. They were too thin, and had an offensive "tadpole" shape, with a thick beginning and a wispy tail. It's one of those things you don't notice on a day-to-day basis because it happens so gradually, but once presented with photographic evidence, it becomes glaringly obvious. You may know from previous posts that eyebrows are one of my "things," so to see that I'd run amok of my own rules and overtweezed really shocked me.

As I embarked on the lengthy and painful process of "growing in" to fix my mistake, I began to wonder, why didn't someone tell me there was a problem? Now I'm realistic; I don't expect my husband to notice things like the shape of my eyebrows. But what about my family and friends? Somebody should have said something! It's not like the problem was subtle!

And that's when it hit me: my eyebrows weren't the only thing I was lacking. Despite a group of wonderful, caring people in my life, I don't have that friend. You know the one I'm talking about: the friend who is bold (and considerate) enough to tell you when your new curtains really don't match the sofa. That friend is the one who will answer honestly when you ask "does this make me look fat." That friend will pass you their hairdresser's card and tell you to call TODAY when everyone else assures you that your hideous new haircut is not hideous. That friend doesn't just passively offer you gum, but tells you when you really need it. And yes, even that friend will tell you to back away from the tweezers.

Somehow, I'm not friends with anyone like that right now. And I need to be.

Please don't mistake me--I'm not talking about a "frenemy," someone who says snarky things with the secret intent of undermining your self confidence. I'm talking about a person who truly loves you and has your best interests at heart. She is someone who would prefer to be unabashedly honest with you and protect you from yourself rather than assuage your ego and let the world laugh at you. It takes a rare mixture of integrity, love, confidence, and brass to make that kind of friend, but if you find one, hold on! They're a rare and invaluable blessing.

I think the last time I had a friend of that kind was when I worked with a woman named Hilde. She was German (which, if you know any Germans, explains a lot), and not afraid to speak the truth. I remember her telling me when my hair was sticking up funny in the back or pointing out when a button was undone on my shirt. It was usually slightly embarrassing to hear, but I was always grateful! Better to be told out loud by someone who really likes you than secretly mocked by someone who doesn't. When she retired and I moved out of state, I slowly lost contact with her. Now I really only "see" her through Christmas cards, and I miss her. I don't think I ever truly understood what a valuable friend she was.

So I'm now accepting applications for a new, blunt friend. Interested applicants must have experience in extreme honesty, but should be kind in its delivery. Requirements include a willingness to point out spinach in my teeth, tell me when my slip is showing, and stop me if I ever consider wearing "stretchy pants." The position offers no salary, but includes a generous benefit package and my undying devotion.

People who find "tadpole" shaped eyebrows acceptable need not apply.

Need a massage?

2009-05-20T18:49:00.001-06:00

Check out this site for a chance to win one! This is from my friend Sarah's world-famous blog, www.athriftymom.com. If you like fabulous deals, her blog is super-cool (and so are free massages)!

Here's to hedonism!

One Last Chance

2009-05-13T22:36:00.003-06:00

Many of you may know that my father-in-law, Jerry Borrowman, is a writer. He's published nine books, won several awards, and sold hundreds of thousands of copies. He's really terrific.

Anyway, if you're looking for something new to read, check out this link for info on his newest book, One Last Chance:

Having an author in the family does have it's perks; I got to review the manuscript before it was published, and it does not disappoint! He's made some final tweaks to the story since the version I read, so now that it's published, I can't wait to dive in again.

Happy reading everyone.

Sometimes More is More

2009-05-11T21:00:00.000-06:00

I think I live in an almost constant state of dehydration. Starting today I'm making a resolution to drink more water. I know it's good for me, but for some reason I never seem to get enough.

Any ideas on how to make sure you squeeze in those 8 glasses a day?

Fun with Infertility (a Mother's Day Essay)

2009-05-10T20:58:00.008-06:00

I'm a Mormon--not because of family tradition or cultural influences--but an honest-to-goodness believing, practicing, devout Mormon. And if you know much about Mormons, you can make many assumptions about me that are true. I don't drink alcohol or coffee. I attend church every week. I know how to prepare at least 30 different Jell-o salads. But one common Mormon stereotype does not fit me at all: I do not have a large family.

In fact, I only have one child. She is 5 years old, and may very well be an only child. This is a stark contrast to the standard, gigantic Mormon family of 8 or 10 children. I'm an anomaly and it hasn't escaped people's notice.

Not long ago, I was joking with one of my friends about how naughty my daughter had been the day before (she's a real spitfire). I said, "See, this is I only have one!" That's when someone else, a mother of six children, piped up and told me she thought I needed more faith. She said if I would just put my trust in God, I could handle more children. Though she was trying to be tactful, she softly hinted that it was my selfishness that kept me from taking the plunge and having another baby.

I felt stunned by her assumptions, but put on a joking face and told her she was probably right; what else could I say? The truth is she'd completely missed the mark. I don't have a small family because of a choice. I have a small family because I haven't been able to have more children.

I'm not really that restrained or guarded about this fact (as you can tell, since I'm posting it here!), but I also feel that it's personal and private and that I shouldn't have to offer up my medical history to people as a defense. It's something I share (or don't share) according to MY will, not to prove to someone that I'm a good mother or a good Mormon.

From someone who deals with the world of infertility, let me just say this to anyone thinking of "advising" others about their family size: when in doubt, butt out! The decision (or ability) to have children can be influenced by many factors, things that as an outsider you may not understand. What if the perspective mother is on powerful medication that makes pregnancy unsafe? What if she's mentally or emotionally incapable of providing a good home to more children? What if she, despite years of trying, is unable to conceive? My point is that as a casual observer you can't know what's going on. Don't try to guess and don't make assumptions.

As this Mother's day draws to a close, it's my hope that we will all celebrate motherhood in all its forms; the mother of many, the mother of few, and the mother-in-spirit who can't have children.
And remember, if you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all.

Your mother would be so proud.

Do Not Buy This Product

2009-05-10T10:21:00.003-06:00

Crest Pro Health Toothpaste is unfit for human use. It tastes like Barq's Root Beer and a sand box's illegitimate love child that was adopted and raised by a menthol cigarette. In short, it's gross (uber-gritty, menthol flavored, with overtones of Root Beer).

Nobody in the family will touch it, but since I bought TWO tubes on sale, I feel obligated to use it up. I'd donate it to the homeless, but even they have standards.

Overheard: A Colossal misunderstanding?

2009-05-09T10:15:00.008-06:00

The other day I was flipping through the radio in a vain search for anything listenable while driving my daughter to preschool. If you've ever had the misfortune to try and find a good radio station in Idaho, you'll know that it's a losing battle. Unless you like country, talk radio, or generic top 40's, you're out of luck. In fact, I rarely listen to the actual radio since I can just plug my iPod into the car stereo, but on this morning, I'd forgotten to bring it.

So as I toggled back and forth, I happened to catch this snippet (in "big announcer" voice):
. . . for a GREAT time, come on down this Sunday (Sunday, SUNDAY) for the T and A auction! You're sure to find just what you need! That's the annual T and A auction This Sunday!!!

Um...WHAT???

If I'd have been drinking milk at the time, I guarantee it would have come out of my nose. Is it just me or is that ad either:

a) totally inappropriate

or

b) made by oblivious morons

I Googled it when I got home (I know, I'm brave), and come to find out, it's a ad for this company and it's legit. But still!

Maybe I just have a dirty mind.

No and Yes

2009-05-08T14:50:00.001-06:00

No:
1. Suburban moms driving Hummers
2. Book burning/banning
3. Plumber's Butt (and it's incestuous cousin, The Peeping Belly Overhang)
4. The smell of patchouli
5. Spitting your gum on the ground. Or spitting on the ground period.
6. Pushy sales people for any of the following products: Scentsy, Tupperware, Pampered Chef, Amway, Stampin' Up, Melaleuca, Avon, Mary Kay, Etc. (I don't mind being invited to the occasional "party"--a term I use loosely--but when it's a full-court, money-grubbing press, I wish you'd remember I'm your friend, not your business opportunity)
7. Littering
8. Bare feet in public restrooms
9. Children riding in the car without car seats
10. Cats

Yes:
1. Eclectic, funky jewelry
2. Art (all kinds)
3. Libraries, used book stores, and reading in general
4. Courtesy
5. Raspberries
6. Laughing with old friends
7. Wooden toys
8. Black and white photography
9. Calla Lilies
10. Dogs

What's on your list?

Failure is Funny

2009-05-07T10:46:00.003-06:00

My new favorite on line destination when I need a laugh is http://failblog.org/. Somehow seeing people fail so spectacularly really makes my day. Here's a sampling for your viewing pleasure:

She won't be your wife for long if you're not careful.

Revenge of the nerds (I love this one!):

Time to send Officer Bob back to sensitivity training?

A family that smokes together...

And I was so thirsty now.

I'm sure there are medicines for that:

Um...ouch???

Go green, guys! Or, uh...something like that!

Doesn't anyone scoop their poop anymore?

Audi, you just got served.

I guess my nuclear weapon will have to be powered by Microsoft's Zune. Bummer.

Time Travel, a Great Big Bully, and a Second Chance

2009-05-06T09:37:00.009-06:00

Have you ever seen the movie Peggy Sue Got Married? It's not a particularly important or meaningful piece of work, but for some reason it popped into my mind this week. It tells the story of a 40-something woman who inexplicably wakes up back in high school and is given a second chance at some of her life's major decisions.

So I've been thinking, if I had the opportunity to go back in time, knowing what I know now, what would I change? There's a long list, of course; mistakes I made, opportunities I missed. But for some reason, there is one injustice in my past that stands out. It's not the biggest, and certainly not the most important, but it's pushed its way to the front of the line and refuses to go away. So if I could have a single do-over, this is it: I'd tell Mr. Isaacson exactly what I thought of him.

Mr. Isaacson was my 6th grade teacher. He was also a monster. Not the kind of monster who hides in the closets or under the bed, but the real kind, who bullies children and abuses his position simply because he can.

He was 6'5" and deep-voiced, an intimidating figure. But more menacing than his physical appearance was his favorite pastime: singling out one member of the class to publicly ridicule. He seemed to know who was most vulnerable in the pack and, like a predator, he always attacked the weakest. He'd choose a student who was having a bad day and begin the hunt. He'd criticize their homework, disparage their answers in class, even mock their appearance. Pick, pick, pick . . . all day long, and always in front of the whole class. Like the slow dripping of a faucet (except this faucet unleashed venom, not water).

But as bad as the mocking could be, what we really feared was his unbridled explosion. These episodes were less frequent, but so furious, so violent, they terrified the class. He would fly into a rage, again almost always directed at a single student, and do his best to verbally destroy them. These tirades would sometimes go on for ten minutes, and when you're an 11 year old facing a menacing authority figure, that is an eternity. I can't imagine what his goal was, though I suspect he just wanted to see if he could make them cry (and frequently, he did). I actually remember him screaming at kids that they were worthless. Once, he even encouraged the entire class to beat up a troubled student who had been acting out (said he expected us to "administer some group justice using the language of our fists" since he couldn't actually hit the student himself).

He was a horrible teacher, a horrible person, and I loathed him.

I was a good student, obedient and well behaved, and for the most part I avoided his attention. But one day, a few months before summer break, he started in on me. Apparently it was just my turn. I'd had the low-level bullying from him before, but this was my first time receiving the full explosion. He said I thought I was a big-shot and a know-it-all, but that when I got to junior high, I'd see what a nothing I was. I just looked at the floor and imagined that he was talking to someone else. Inside I was seething. I wanted to scream out that I knew he was just a coward who made himself feel better by picking on the helpless.

But I didn't say a word.

At the time, I figured I'd get thrown out of class if I said anything, which was true--I'd have been gone faster than you can say "expelled." I didn't want to get into trouble or make waves and I figured that the fastest way to make it end was to stay silent.

Today I understand that there are worse things than getting kicked out of your 6th grade class. I'm willing to bet that no one has ever been passed over for a promotion because they mouthed off to an elementary school teacher. I don't think it would show up on your credit score. I doubt it would cause you to loose the Nobel Prize. It simply isn't that big of a deal. But letting anyone treat you that way is a big deal. If you let people tell you you're worthless, one day you might start believing it--and once you go down that road, you might never come back.

So if I were to find myself in that classroom again, I'd have a different response. I wouldn't let a bully define me, even if that bully was the teacher. I wouldn't feel the need to look at the ground; I'd hold my head high. And I wouldn't stay silent. I'd tell him what a rotten human being he was, persecuting children. I'd ask him if it made him feel powerful to emotionally abuse 11 year olds (and what that said about him as a man). And I'd tell him that he couldn't intimidate me into silence me because the truth will always make itself known.

Unfortunately, in this life we don't get any do-overs. I'll never get that moment back. I won't ever have the chance to say those things to his face. So I content myself by knowing that, though he tried, he did not break me. I emerged a strong, vibrant, whole person, the kind that, if I could go back, would stand up to him.

I think that counts.

Friendship, Loyalty, and Betrayal: One Girl's Dilemma

2009-03-13T12:58:00.005-06:00

Growing up, everybody told me the world was black and white--that there was a right way and a wrong way. As an adult, I've realized sometimes that just isn't true. In life we often face murky waters that can only be described as gray; situations with no good options where regardless of what you decide, no one wins.

Two years ago I found myself in one of those circumstances. I thought about it for a long time, made my choice, and decided to let fate take it's course. But despite the amount of time that has past, my decision still haunts me and I wonder if I perhaps I made a mistake. I'm hoping that by telling my story here, someone will have some input to help me next time I navigate life's foggy sea.

To understand my story, first you have to know that I live in a small town. It's not "Mayberry" small, but still the kind of place where everybody knows (or knows of) almost everyone else. If you talk to a stranger long enough here, you're sure to find that you dated their cousin or bought a car from their father (this is important later on).

Anyway, one day about two years ago, I found myself in the chair at my hairdresser's. She was working some magic and we were chatting away like old friends. I had asked her if she ran into many kooks in her line of work, and she began telling me about some clients she had had earlier that day. It was a mother and her two adult daughters who came in to get "glamour" make-overs. We were giggling about their requests for big, 1980's prom hair and Pat Benatar-style make up.

Then my stylist told me that not only did they have atrocious taste in fashion, but that they were really mean-spirited and nasty, too. She said that they spent the whole time talking about their niece and cousin, a girl named "Thelma" (name changed, obviously) calling her all kinds of names, gossiping about her, and making fun of her. Then they laughed saying that Thelma was to stupid to even discern their true feelings for her. The stylist said she felt bad for Thelma, whoever she was, for having a family like that.

I got a sinking feeling in my stomach as parts of her story started to sound too familiar. I asked my stylist a few questions to be sure, and quickly uncovered the identity of the three women. All the pieces fell together in a sickening picture-perfect puzzle.

And I was horrified.

Not only do I know Thelma, but she's a good friend. What's worse, they were right--Thelma has no idea they feel that way.

I left the salon with a heavy burden on my mind. Should I tell Thelma?

I listed the pros:
1-I'd want to know if it was me
2-If these people are thinking it and SAYING it, shouldn't she be aware?
3-If I tell her, she can protect herself from those toxic bitches.
4-This kind of gossip has a way of getting back to the person, and wouldn't it be better to hear it from a friend who does it because they truly care about you, not someone who just loves drama.
5-Isn't being honest what a loyal friend is supposed to do?

Then I listed the cons:
1-It's going to hurt her badly.
2-I didn't hear it first hand and can't verify exactly what was said that the stylist didn't embellish the story.
3-I could get the stylist into trouble (not a huge concern, but still something I thought about).
4-It's really none of my business.
5-Isn't protecting her what a loyal friend should do?

In the end, after much agonizing, I didn't tell her. For me, the deciding factor was that these people are her family, and she will not be able to end that relationship. It seemed cruel to hurt her knowing that she couldn't avoid seeing them in the future.

So, the other day I saw one of the girls in the store (small town) and it brought it back to me again. Did I do the right thing? Should I have told her? Should I tell her now? What would you do?

I guess sometimes we all float in a sea full of questions with no pretty ends and no right answers--just shadowy shades of gray. The trick is trying to sail our ships as straight as we can and look for the calmest waters. That, and trying our hardest to ignore the ominous storm clouds in every direction.

Because I care: A brief public service announcement

2009-03-08T23:09:00.010-06:00

Kids today are getting the short end of the stick, and they don't even know it. I'm not talking about the broken education system, or the polluted world they'll inherit some day, or even the soon-to-be bankrupt Social Security administration (though they're getting the shaft with all those things, too). No, I'm talking about something of a more pressing nature, an issue of the utmost importance in the hearts of young girls everywhere.

I'm talking about teen idols.

Because when it comes to idols, this generation's choices are about as appealing as the shriveled up french fries you find under the seat when you vacuum out your car. As I noticed a poster for the recently-released Jonas Brothers movie in my local theatre, I realized that I no longer have the option to just remain quiet. It is time for action.

So, because I care so deeply about the children (they are our future), I've decided to put an end to the madness. The following is a Public Service Announcement aimed at all pre-teen and teen girls. It is the truth. It is powerful. Use it well.
____________________

Girls of America! Hear my cry!

You have been deceived in a most cruel and devious way, and I feel it is my honor-bound duty to reveal the nefarious plot to you. You have been told that the Jonas brothers are attractive. This is a DIRTY LIE, and you don't have to believe it anymore!An analysis of the above picture proves one tidy fact: these boys are ugly. Don't be ashamed to admit it. Secretly, everybody thinks they're ugly, but they're too afraid to stand up and point it out. It's like a scene from "The Emperor's New Clothes," just with more squinting and less fairy-tale magic.

These are not men to be idolized (in fact, I'm pretty sure that two of them aren't men at all but the products of a secret government cross-breeding experiment involving Michael Dukakis and a standard poodle).
Girls, you can do better. Nay, you MUST do better. And rest assured, there are more worthy objects for your affection. Just for example, let me show you one popular teen idol from my day:

Yes, before he was Captain Jack Sparrow, Johnny Depp was a teen idol. Girls all over the land watched him every week on a show called 21 Jump Street. And he was worth our swoons. Why? Because he had talent, style, and most of all, he was actually hot.

Believe me, in 10 years one Jonas brother will be in rehab, one will become obese and start his own line of cookware, and one will take over for Brett Michaels as the sleazy has-been on VH1's Rock of Love. Of course, first they'll all release crappy solo albums that will fail miserably. And the fickle tide of public opinion, as it always does, will wash away until even the name "Jonas Brothers" becomes a punch line.

And when that happens, you'll be happy you listened to me.

This is why you're fat

2009-02-09T19:50:00.019-07:00

It's no secret that Americans are fat. Two-thirds of adults in this country are overweight, and childhood obesity in the United States has more than tripled in the past two decades.

But you don't need statistics to prove this fact. Just go to a Walmart and have a look around. Our local store has little motorized, ride-on carts (presumably for people who have broken a foot or something), and they're always filled (to the brim) with grotesquely obese shoppers who are so large, they don't even have the stamina to grocery shop. It looks exactly like a scene from the movie Wall-E. In fact, I've actually seen a line of absolutely huge people waiting for the motorized carts instead of walking through the store!

I know, I know . . . judge not. And I try not to, honestly. I mean, I struggle trying to be healthy myself. I have to count calories and go to the gym several times a week because without making a concerted effort, I'd be in the same boat (or electric cart, as the case may be).

But honestly, I'm not surprised we're collectively so unhealthy. Just look at the food we put in our bodies. It's all additives, fillers, starches, corn syrup, empty carbs, and hydrogenated fats. Sometimes the labels on our favorite foods read more like a chemistry experiment gone wrong that actual food.

To prove my point, here are some pictures from a totally disgusting/fascinating web site I found called "This Is Why You're Fat." These are actual foods that people eat--some of them even look good. But they raise an interesting question that each of us has to answer personally: how far into the pit of debauchery and gluttony are we willing to descend?

And with that in mind, for your visual pleasure/horror, I present The Food:

The Brick of Cheese (I didn't really need that artery anyway)

Hot Beef Sundae (?)

"Ramlet"--an omelet made with eggs and ramen noodles (For the connoisseur of fine foods)

Deep Fried Coca-Cola (I love my corn syrup-laden drinks deep fried, don't you?)

The Meat Ship--Made from bacon, sausages, pastry, franks and pork mince. (There are all sorts of jokes I could make here, but they're all in such poor taste, I'll just leave it to your imagination).

Happy Meal Pizza (Available now at your local McDonalds!)

Krispy Kreme Bacon Cheddar Cheeseburgers (Because I didn't need to eat anything else this week).

Turbaconucken--a chicken inside a duck inside a turkey, all wrapped in bacon. (Doesn't this violate some law of nature?)

Corndog Pizza (Just like mamma Corleone used to make . . . when she worked at the state fair).

Mega Pizza--a pizza with a hot dog wrapped in bacon pigs in a blanket crust. The center is filled with Italian sausage, ham, bacon, bacon bits, sliced tomato, mushroom, onion, peppers, garlic chips, basil, black pepper and tomato sauce. It can also be flavored with maple syrup and ketchup. (What good meal doesn't taste better with a little maple syrup and ketchup, mixed together)

Kitchen Sink (I hope they washed it first . . . )

The Ultimate Snack Stadium (Destination obesity? Goallllll!!!!)

Bacon-Shelled Taco (Because no food should be bacon immune)

Innovations

2009-01-29T10:55:00.005-07:00

I'm not that old, but there are so many things around today that weren't I was born. These innovations have become an essential part of my lifestyle, even though many of them didn't exist just a few years ago. It's funny to think of how quickly we can embrace technology--I can't imagine going back! So, here is my list of favorite inventions I wouldn't want to live without:

1) Personal Computer/Internet. I know the computer was invented in the 50's, but it didn't really become an item that everyone had until the last decade. I mean, I remember typing papers in Junior High on a type writer for cripes sakes! And does anyone else remember the library's card catalogue? I remember when you had to have stamps around if you wanted to send a letter or pay a bill. I try to imagine finding addresses without Mapquest or doing my taxes without TurboTax. Impossible.

I just can't imagine my life without a computer. I use it for EVERYTHING.

2) Online Shopping. In close conjunction with the computer and Internet is online shopping. If you don't count groceries, I do most of my shopping this way, especially for "big-ticket" items. You can almost always find better deals online, and you can shop at 2:00 am in your pajamas. Christmas would be a disaster at our house without Amazon.com.

3) iPod. I heard that one in ten people got an iPod for Christmas this year. One in ten! There is no denying, the iPod is a cultural phenomenon. I love mine. I use it to work out, when I clean, I play it in my car, and during football season when my husband commandeers the TV, I watch movies and TV on it. I don't think I'd want to live in a world without iPods!

4) Microwave. It's hard to picture, but people actually lived without microwaves. Seriously! No microwave popcorn, EasyMac, Hot Pockets, Instant Oatmeal, or Nuked Pizza. On second thought, they probably ate a lot healthier. But hey, they had to wait for their food!

5) Air Conditioning in my car. I know this isn't exactly a new invention, but air conditioning wasn't a "given" in cars when I was a kid--it was considered a luxury, and lots of people passed on it to save money. I remember my parents purchasing vehicles without it! Personally, I hate to be overheated. And I really hate to sweat (outside of the gym, that is!). And I absolutely detest that my hair blows into a huge rat's nest when the windows are rolled down. This is why I give air conditioning a HUGE thumbs up.

I'm drawing a blank now. I could put "Netflix" and "TiVo" down, but though convenient, I don't think they're essential. I suppose I could also say "cell phone," but since I always forget to take it with me and never hear it ring to answer it, I guess it's not *that* important to me. Maybe a digital cameras could make my list, but honestly, in my heart I still love film best.

So, what are your thoughts? What should be added (or subtracted) from this list? What are your top innovations?

Pez

2009-01-28T12:26:00.005-07:00

Does anyone else find Pez completely disgusting? I bought some for my daughter the other day, and I can't get over how totally inedible it is.

The lemon ones in particular have a truly awful taste that's reminiscent of Pledge dusting polish with notes of corn starch and cough syrup. It offends my palate.

If it weren't for the cute dispensers, I can't imagine that any kid would willing eat them. I guess it just goes to show the awesome power of marketing. Those cute flip-top heads are so influential, they overwhelm a our basic sense of taste. Just think, if they made broccoli-dispensing Pez, children everywhere might love veggies.

Have you ever. . .

2009-01-26T23:21:00.005-07:00

They say life's a journey, not a destination. If that's true, here are a few rest stops you can find on life's highway. I have marked the ones I have done in bold. How about you? (This is an open tag to anyone who's willing to do it!)

-Started your own blog
-Slept under the stars
-Played in a band
-Visited Hawaii
-Watched a meteor shower
-Given more than you can afford to charity
-Been to Disneyland
-Climbed a Mountain
-Held a praying mantis
-Sang a solo
-Bungee jumped
-Visited Paris
-Watched a lightening storm at sea
-Taught yourself an art from scratch
-Adopted a child
-Had food poisoning
-Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
-Grown your own vegetables
-Slept on an overnight train
-Hitch hiked
-Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
-Held a lamb
-Gone skinny dipping
-Run a Marathon
-Seen a total eclipse
-Watched a sunrise or sunset
-Hit a home run
-Been on a cruise
-Seen Niagara Falls in person
-Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
-Seen an Amish community
-Fired a rifle, shotgun or pistol
-Seen Michelangelo’s David in person
-Sung karaoke
-Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
-Bought a stranger a meal
-Visited Africa
-Walked on a beach by moonlight
-Been transported in an ambulance
-Had your portrait painted
-Gone deep sea fishing
-Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
-Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
-Kissed in the rain
-Played in the mud

-Gone to a drive-in theater
-Visited the Great Wall of China in person
-Started a business
-Taken a martial art class
-Visited Russia
-Served at a soup kitchen
-Sold Girl Scout cookies
-Gone Whale Watching
-Got flowers for no reason
-Donated blood, platelets, or plasma
-Gone sky diving
-Visited a Nazi concentration camp
-Bounced a check
-Flown in a helicopter
-Saved a favorite childhood toy
-Visited the Lincoln Memorial in person
-Eaten Caviar
-Pieced a quilt
-Stood in Times Square

-Been fired from a job
-Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
-Been on a speeding motorcycle
-Seen the Grand Canyon in person
-Published something
-Bought a brand new car
-Walked in Jerusalem
-Visited the White House
-Had chickenpox
-Sat on a jury
-Met someone famous
-Joined a book club
-Lost a loved one
-Had a baby
-Seen the Alamo in person
-Swam in the ocean
-Owned a cell phone
-Been stung by a bee
-Seen Mount Rushmore in person
-Learned to play an instrument
-Held a tarantula
-Touched an iceberg
-Changed a baby’s diaper
-Taken a trip in a hot air balloon

-Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
-Had a food fight
-Screamed as loudly as you possibly can
-Ridden a roller coaster
-Visited all 50 states
-Taken a road trip
-Milked a cow
-Been in a movie
-Crashed a party
-Made cookies from scratch
-Gotten a tattoo
-Rafted the Snake River (no--but I've fished it!)
-Performed on stage
-Been to Las Vegas
-Eaten shark
-Bought a house
-Been in a combat zone
-Walked the Golden Gate Bridge
-Touched a sting ray
-Broken a bone
-Ridden a horse
-Eaten sushi

-Had your picture in newspaper
-Gone back to school
-Eaten fried green tomatoes
-Killed and prepared an animal for eating
-Dyed your hair
-Caused a car accident
-Saved someone’s life

Like a Prayer

2009-01-26T14:56:00.013-07:00

Today at the gym, one of the instructors included "Like a Prayer" by Madonna in her set list, and it inspired me to make a confession.

I love that song.

I know it stirred up quite a bit of controversy with it's music video, but I don't care. It's just a great song. I'm actually not usually a big Madonna fan, but you have to admit, sometimes she just nails it.

My Blogging Style

2009-01-23T10:00:00.003-07:00

So I took a quiz.

This scientifically precise and accurate tool was supposed to tell me what kind of blogger I am. According to the study, I'm a "pensive and philosophical" blogger. Ok, I buy that.

It also says I'm fond of "long winded prose." Long winded? Hmph! (Then again, considering the usual length of my posts, they may just have a point)

So, take the quiz and let me know: what type of blogger are you?

Your Blogging Type is Pensive and Philosophical

You blog like no one else is reading...

You tend to use your blog to explore ideas - often in long winded prose.

Easy going and flexible, you tend to befriend other bloggers easily.

But if they disagree with once too much, you'll pull them from your blogroll!

What's Your Blogging Personality?

The Movie That Should Have Been

2009-01-23T08:00:00.001-07:00

Look, I like the Twilight books. I know they're cliche and gauche. The writing wasn't masterful (and Stephenie Meyer is no Hemingway). But, hey, the plot was good enough to keep me up all night reading. So when they announced a movie, I was excited. I waited with anticipation for the day it would be released. I followed each casting decision in the news. I looked at pictures of the locations where they filmed. I even went to the midnight showing when it was released.

And my reaction?

Meh. The movie was okay, but I've seen episodes of Charmed and Heroes with better special effects. The actors were acceptable (though I wonder if the casting director even read the book before choosing them). The script's dialogue was probably as good as the book's, but we've already established that the book wasn't exactly eloquent. I was realistic enough not to expect a masterpiece, so I didn't leave the theatre too disappointed.

But if THIS had been the movie, I'd have to give it 250 thumbs up (not that I actually have 250 thumbs, but you know what I mean):

Brilliant!

An Open Letter to Colin Firth

2009-01-22T16:32:00.006-07:00

Dear Colin,

I really liked you. I thought you were swell. I can't imagine anyone else as Mr. Darcy, and every time I read Pride and Prejudice, yours is the face I see.

I always made an effort to see a movie if you were in it, even if I was otherwise uninterested in the film. I guess you could even say that I had a bit of a celebrity-crush on you.

Well, I finally got around to seeing Mamma Mia! the other day. I'd put it off because I heard most of the cast couldn't really sing (though your performance was praised). But as I watched the movie, a horrible thing happened. The sight of you prancing around in a skin-tight metallic jumpsuit like some Kiss/Brady-Bunch/Priscilla-Queen-of-the-Desert hybrid did something to fundamentally alter me. I don't know if there is a medical explanation, but I'd swear there was an actual temperature change in my heart. I could literally feel it as that previously loving organ froze.

I don't know how to break this to you, but baby, the thrill is gone.

I just can't see you the same way anymore. All our happy memories have been tainted. Everything that was sweet now leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. It was like finding a finger in the soup at your favorite restaurant--no matter how many good meals you've had in the past, you'll never go back.

As evidence to back up my feelings, I've included the following clip (the 28 second mark is where the truly appalling behavior begins):

I'd like to say let's stay friends, but we both know that just won't work. I wish you well in this new path for your life you've chosen. I hope it brings you happiness (though we both know it can't). Don't call me again. It hurts too much to watch someone you've loved destroy themselves.

Sincerely,

Eden

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes!

2009-01-22T15:59:00.004-07:00

Welcome to my new-and-improved blog! I've recently made some changes, and I wanted to take a second to explain what is going on and why.

I started this adventure in blog-land with the initial intent of connecting with friends and family who live far away. In this age of digital cameras, it seemed like a great way to show off my family, share funny stories, and have fun. And it is! Thanks to the blogging world, I've had a chance to feel like I'm a part of my so many people's lives, even though we're scattered across the country. It's had the added and unforeseen benefit of giving me a place to vent, muse, and philosophize in general.

Due to a busy life, I hadn't done much (okay, anything) with my blog for a couple of months. I figured it had just been sitting dormant the whole while. Then the other day I logged in for the first time in a while. I have a site-monitoring widget installed, which I never really look at, but for the fun of it, I thought I'd check if anyone else had been stopping by while I neglected it.

Well they had. Dozens and dozens of people a day. Then I started looking closer at what they had been viewing. I was surprised at how many people were going to one specific post, an older entry, and maximizing all the pictures. I couldn't even remember what it was by reading the title. So I clicked on it, and was first shocked, then horrified to find that it contained pictures of my preschool daughter in the bath tub. I'd posted them thinking they were cute and that her grandparents would get a kick out of them.

Well, I don't think it's cute now.

I immediately deleted the post.

I don't know what was going on, but I do know that I have no friends or family in places like Brussels, Quebec, or Estonia--and no one there needs to see pictures of my daughter. I got to thinking about it. My original intent had been to share with my loved ones, but I didn't even consider about how exposed that left my family.

I toyed with the idea of just deleting my blog, but there have been so many good things that have come from it. Instead, I decided to split it into TWO blogs--one for my observations, rants, and funny posts, and another one with family pictures and details. The first blog is open to anyone (though you'll note that all posts with details about my family are gone). The second blog is for invited readers only.

So, if you want to know about the Borrowman family, check out http://www.theborrowmanfamily.blogspot.com/, or click on the link on the right hand side. Whether you're a member of my family, a friend, a cyber-friend, or you just dated my cousin's best friend in high school, I'm happy to send you an invitation. It's not like I'm really that picky about it--I just want to make sure I know you.

So, take it for what you will.

Oh, and in case you didn't notice, I'm back! Prepare for new posts on a regular basis and a soon-to-be-unveiled "What's for Dinner" section!

An Announcement

2009-01-20T23:28:00.003-07:00

A major blog overhaul is in the works (yes, I've decided to do a better job caring for my red-headed cyber stepchild). Stay tuned . . . .

Fashion's Red-Headed Stepchild

2008-09-28T21:40:00.012-06:00

It's happened.

I am officially over the Juniors department.

In retrospect, I realize that this has been coming on for a few years. I've had hints each time I've tried on a pair of jeans and realized the rise is 3 1/2 barely-butt-crack-covering inches. I should have noticed it when I saw the racks of lace-trimmed leggings--and remembered buying my first pair decades ago in 8th grade. The High School Musical t-shirts might have opened my eyes if I hadn't somehow I deluded myself into thinking I still belonged. But as I've done some fall shopping, I had an epiphany. I couldn't stop myself from thinking "this stuff is cheesy, unsophisticated, and ugly and I don't want to buy any of it."

But if I don't belong in the Juniors department, then where?

After much soul-searching, rack-combing, and one rather nasty episode of dressing room rage, I've come to a conclusion. My 20 to 30 something friends, we are outcasts. We walk in no-man's land. Too old for the juniors, waaayy too young for the misses (beaded sweater, anyone?)--we do not fit in. The naked truth (that we'll spend years working through in expensive therapy), is that the fashion family has no room in its heart for us. We are fashion's red-headed stepchildren.

Seriously, where do you buy your clothes when you don't want to look like Hannah Montana's closet had a severe case of the stomach flu (and it threw up everything on you!). . .

. . . or when you're not ready to officially join the Golden Girls fan club (by the way, I wonder if older women wear their pants pulled up to their armpits for function or for style)?

Perhaps the most challenging thing about this total abandonment by the fashion industry is that I know where I'd buy my clothes if I could afford it (Prada anyone?), but unfavored step-children are never given enough allowance to afford that ball. And our fairy godmothers? I think they all went "cougar" and ran off to Ensanada with their 19 year old pool boys--leaving us stranded.

So lend a friend a hand and confess: where do you find clothes? Is there some magical mecca where you can find affordable brilliance that the rest of us are missing? Where does a 30-something girl go for great gear?

Let's Do The Time Warp Again

2008-09-15T22:00:00.024-06:00

Do you believe in reincarnation? Does some mystic force seem to whisper to your soul that you belong to a different decade? Maybe you just wish you could live out a Back to the Future or Peggy Sue Got Married moment by time traveling to the past.

Well, today (in celebration of my 100th post), I thought we'd embrace the idea of looking back. After all, what is this blog if not a mini-universe of my own creating, capturing bits of my life for review? And since I recently discovered this hilarious site, we now step into the world of what if. So, what if I'd been born in:

1950
Name: Betty Jean

Hobbies: Baking, Helping mother serve lemonade at the church bazaar, visiting "the club" for social events, shoplifting hi-fi's from the local record store.

Life's Ambition: To win the Pillsbury Bake Off to make mother proud--or to perpetrate a high level bank robbery. Either one, really.

Secret Wish: That I could be more like Mother and wear my girdle 24 hours a day (the doctor said the chaffing would never heal if I didn't let some air in).

Yearbook Quote: "If at first you don't succeed, do it like your mother told you." -Mom

1954
Name: Norma

Hobbies: Reading, Watching television programs, playing with my brother's chemistry set, studying alien abductions

Life's Ambition: To become a children's librarian

Secret Wish: To publish my semi-autobiographical romantic science fiction novel, The Alien and the Ugly Girl--I've gotten 32 rejection letters, but I'm still trying!

Yearbook Quote: "Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months." -Oscar Wilde

1960
Name: Carole

Hobbies: Dancing, Rock and Roll, Boys, Movie Stars, Fashion, and Jack Daniels.

Life's Ambition: To meet Elvis

Secret Wish: To play bass guitar in a rhythm and blues band. Okay, who am I kidding--I just want to date someone who plays guitar in a rhythm and blues band. Or Elvis. Or Dick Clark. Or Ed Sullivan (he's soooooo dreamy--and hey, I bet he could introduce me to Elvis!).

Yearbook Quote: "Don't step on my blue suede shoes." -Elvis

1964
Name: Mary Catherine

Hobbies: Politics, Feminism, Listening to folk music, Hanging out with my radical-student friends, attending sit-ins and protests

Life's Ambition: To change the world, fight the power, stick it to the man, and overthrow the government.

Secret Wish: That I could come out of the closet--as someone who actually voted for the REPUBLICAN, Barry Goldwater!

Yearbook Quote: "Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it's time to pause and reflect." -Mark Twain

1966
Name: Pamela

Hobbies: Go-Go Dancing, teasing my hair, All things "mod," Psychedelic colors, Andy Warhol, Campbell's soup.

Life's Ambition: To find a never-ending groovy party, man!

Secret wish: To figure out how to comb the snarls and rats out of my hair. Seriously, I've lost 7 combs in there. Any ideas? Anyone?

Yearbook Quote: "These boots are made for walking." -Nancy Sinatra

1974
Name: Sharon

Hobbies: I love my best friend, Mary Jane . . . hehehe . . . potato salad. Oooh, now I'm hungry. I said potato salad . . . hehehe.

Life's Ambition: None

Secret Wish: SOMEBODY BETTER GET ME SOME POTATO SALAD, NOW! Oh . . . butterflies on the wall!

Yearbook Quote: "I don't do drugs. I am drugs." -Salvador Dali

1976
Name: Debbi

Hobbies: Dungeons and Dragons, disco, Foosball at the arcade, Pong, Peter Frampton and feathering my hair

Life's Ambition: To beat the high score on the pinball machine

Secret Wish: To be the 5th member of ABBA

Yearbook Quote: "Those who can, do. Those who can't play D&D."

1978
Name: Dawn

Hobbies: Soul Train, The Harlem Globetrotters, Studying the poetry of Langston Hughes, and creating homemade Afro Sheen from common household chemicals

Life's Ambition: World's biggest white-girl 'fro

Secret Ambition: To be black. Or date somebody who is.

Yearbook Quote: "I'm a good person, in spite of what my ancestors did."

1980

Name: Stephanie

Hobbies: Solving my Rubik’s Cube, home perms, New Wave Music, Luke and Bo Duke

Life's Ambition: To own a Trans Am, The General Lee, or a Firebird

Secret Wish: To find the perfect pair of leg warmers to match each outfit

Yearbook Quote: "Daisy Duke, If you wasn't my cousin, I'd marry you." -Bo Duke

1982
Name: Laura

Hobbies: Listening to my Thriller album (that Michael Jackson and that tiger--swoon--he's such a manly man!)

Life's Ambition: To learn the Thriller zombie dance

Secret Wish: That Michael Jackson would take me to see Cats on Broadway.

Yearbook Quote: "Why can't you share your bed? The most loving thing to do is to share your bed with someone. It's very charming. It's very sweet. It's what the whole world should do.” -Michael Jackson

1984
Name: Tiffany

Hobbies: Going to the Mall, trying new brands of hairspray (GO AQUANET), Molly Ringwald movies

Life's Ambition: Impenetrable Bangs

Secret Wish: To be a member of the Brat Pack

Yearbook Quote: "I can't believe I gave my panties to a geek. " -Sam Baker in Sixteen Candles

1986

Name: April

Hobbies: Memorizing all the singers in "We are the World," watching that new Oprah talk show, listening to my Walkman with my industrial-sized headphones, using my "pic" and mousse

Life's Ambition: To see Haley's Comet. Saw it. Great, now what?

Secret Wish: That my shoulders were gigantic so I could have the "padded" look naturally.

Yearbook Quote: "Where's the Beef?"

1989
Name: Gina

Hobbies: Bon Jovi, Ratt, Acid Washed Denim, Shoulder Pads, and using the word "like" as many times as possible.

Life's Ambition: To meet a boy named Tommy who works on the docks so we can live on a prayer.

Secret wish: To be an MTV VJ (or to be in a Warrant, Winger, or Poison video)

Yearbook Quote: "Disco Sucks."

1994

Name: Jennifer

Hobbies: Listening to "alternative" rock (on the top 40's radio station), Pretending to like Nirvana, stealing old flannel shirts from construction workers

Life's Ambition: To figure out what exactly "grunge" means, so I can buy the appropriate clothing at Express and the Gap.

Secret Wish: That I could reveal that I really prefer En Vogue, Madonna, and MC Hammer

Yearbook Quote: "Wanting to be someone else is a waste of the person you are." -Kurt Cobain

1996

Name: Ashley

Hobbies: Surfing the WWW, e-mail, Reading the Starr report on line (President Clinton! Shame on you!)

Life's ambition: To one day develop a way to make money with this new Internet thing. No, seriously! I think it could work!

Yearbook Quote: "Hooked on Internet? Help is a just a click away."

* best * high * ever *

2008-09-12T15:55:00.004-06:00

For several weeks, I've been fighting some serious exercise apathy. I kept using the excuse that I was too busy to get to the gym as often as I need to. That, of course, is hogwash--there's always time to squeeze in a work out. But it sounded reasonable and assuaged my conscience.

Then my favorite cycling teacher, K'Ann, started teaching again. She taken several months off due to other commitments, but now she's back, and it's provided the motivation I needed. You see, K'Ann's class is hard. In fact, though I'm about 97% sure this girl's human, there is a lingering part of me that still suspects she has to be part cyborg or mutant. I've never seen anyone who can push like she does. Even her husband is amazed (he said she was back in the gym days after giving birth, and within 2 or 3 weeks she was back to full speed). She's a total machine and the toughest drill sergeant out there. Her classes make me feel the drive to do more, to get better, to push farther. I love her!

Anyway, today was the best workout I've had in months. I was dripping sweat (gross, I know--sorry!). But the greatest part was the AMAZING "runner's high" (or "cycling high," I guess) that I got afterward. I couldn't stop smiling. Even now, I feel fantastic--making it almost worth the pain required to get here!

I'm just happy to be excited about exercise again. I'm so thankful to all the great trainers and teachers at the gym who make it fun and keep me going. It's so much easier to take care of yourself if you enjoy it.

So here's a question for everybody: how do you stay motivated to stick with your goals? What do you do when you laziness and apathy take over? What's your trick to kick inertia?

My Guilty Pleasure (A Confession):

2008-09-11T00:33:00.007-06:00

I will never tire of "What Not To Wear." There's something about the mixture of horrific fashion and snarky analysis that thrills me.

(I've got to figure out a way to get on the show--I'd gladly endure Stacy and Clinton's scrutiny in exchange for the expert makeover and $5,000 wardrobe!)

The Soup Nazi and other customer service nightmares . . .

2008-08-29T10:45:00.000-06:00

I was never a huge Seinfeld fan. It usually drove me nuts and made me want to throw things at the tv. However, even I have to admit that the show created some iconic characters--like the Soup Nazi. He was horrible to deal with, but his product was so good, people kept going back for more.

In my life, I have my own Soup Nazi. It's a floral shop. Secretly, Jeff and I refer to it as "Crack-House Flowers." It looks like an old abandoned warehouse and certainly should be condemned, and every time you go there, you wish you had a can of mace in your pocket, just in case.

But the decor is charming compared to the customer service. Most of the workers don't really speak English, and those who do could give lessons on rudeness to the DMV. I've met the owner several times, and the lady is crazy. Like stab-your-husband-and-feed-him-to-your-37-cats crazy.

But the flowers! They're beyond words! They are so beautiful--by far the best I've ever seen. And to top it off, they're insanely cheap. For $25 you can get a MASSIVE arrangement.

The other day I had to order some flowers, so I called them. The phone rang about 4 times and then someone picked up--and hung up. So I tried again. And again. All in all, they probably hung up on me about 10 times before actually talking to me. And then they told me to call another number. I did, and the second number referred me back to the first number!

It took about 30 minutes to finally get someone to take my order.

I'd love to be able to walk away from this abusive relationship, but I find myself powerless to say no. Normally I'm a demanding customer. I expect stellar service if I'm going to give you my money. But for "Crack-House Flowers," I put up with the most outrageous behavior. They hold all the cards--and they seem to know it. Their flowers are that good.

So, do you have a "Soup Nazi" relationship in your life? Are you ever willing to accept terrible service because you love the product? What will you put up with for a bargain?

Reconnecting

2008-08-29T08:14:00.004-06:00

I've joined Facebook. Yes, I know I'm behind the curve--everyone else in the universe joined years ago, but give me some credit. I live in Idaho and we just got indoor plumbing in 2003. Anyway, it's been so fun reconnecting with old friends. I've spent so much time over the years wondering "what ever happened to so-and-so," and this has let me see!

Thanks to Facebook, I was able to attend the wedding (and shower and bachelorette party!) of an old friend, Heather. She looked so beautiful and has become such a classy lady! It was great to be a part of her big event, and I'm so glad we reconnected in time for me to be there.

Here are a few pictures of their big day. Congratulations and best wishes!

A "Pressing" Question

2008-07-09T12:39:00.004-06:00

I have nothing against ironing. In fact, in a perverse way, I actually enjoy it. The smell of the fabric softener, the crisp, starched creases, the rows of pressed shirts on hangers--if there is such a thing as enjoying a household chore, I like to iron.

But until very recently, I didn't "do the ironing." Unlike some women (they're a dying breed, I suspect) who take all the wrinkled clothes and systematically iron them all at once, I functioned in a strict press-as-you-go fashion, ironing each item when I needed it, precisely 20 seconds before placing on my body. And Jeff? He ironed his own shirts for work each morning at 7:00.

Then one day I had a laundry-changing experience while talking to my friend, Amy. She's one of those women who who keeps everything flawless and immaculate with effortless grace. Her home is always spotless. Her daughter's hair is always beautifully braided. She cooks--every night. And of course she is thin, gorgeous, intelligent, and interesting. If I didn't like her so much, I'd hate her. She was commenting about ironing her husband's shirts. I scoffed and said, "Jeff does his own." She replied, "Well, my husband works so hard, I just feel like it's something I should do for him." Did I mention that she was 8 months into a very difficult and complicated pregnancy as she said this?

Enter the guilt.

Jeff works really long hours, too, and I don't even have the pregnancy card to use as an excuse. Time to step it up, I decided. That day I started ironing.

At first it was a lot of work--Jeff has about 35 dress shirts, and I figured I'd better iron them all to get a head start on the process. It takes about 10 minutes a shirt, so that was about 5 1/2 hours of ironing. I used an entire can of starch that first day.

But since then, it's actually been really easy to keep up. Jeff wears a dress shirt to work each day and one on Sunday. That means six shirts, or about an hour of ironing, which isn't really a big deal. He's definitely noticed the effort and appreciates it. And somehow I feel more in control and organized.

But this whole experience has me wondering if I'm alone in "doing shirts?" Tell me, do you iron? Is it out of obligation or enjoyment? Or are there other traditional household chores you skip (or only do when your in-laws are coming to visit)?

What are your secret household habits??

Loved it

2008-06-28T08:56:00.003-06:00

My last post was a downer. Here is something nicer: I adored Wall-E.

I wasn't excited to see it, but Jeff and I figured we'd "take one for the team." Well, I'm certainly glad we did. This film is so charming, so magical, I felt like my heart would burst.

Be forewarned, there is virtually NO dialogue for the first hour of the movie. But it is such a visual feast, you don't miss it. The Pixar folks are true artists, and they can tell a story silently better than most filmmakers who have an arsenal of non-stop dialogue.

If you take your small children to it, they may need a bit of help following the plot (since it isn't like most of the other mindless kids movies out there), but they'll respond to the themes. Uncharacteristically for a "kid's" movie, the theatre was silent. There was no squirming or chattering. The children were totally mesmerized.

It is a beautiful love story, funny, appealing to children, and it has an important message as its moral. What more could you want?

The Ugly Truth

2008-06-27T14:16:00.011-06:00

What is my biggest fear about making our home in a rural Idaho town?

That my daughter will become as prejudiced, racist, and small-minded as so many of the people that surround us.

My second biggest fear?

That I will.

My string cheese made from organic milk from hormone-free, constantly hugged goats. Is yours?

2008-06-26T09:31:00.007-06:00

I really work hard to ensure that our family eats healthy foods. As a general rule, I'm opposed to high fructose corn syrup, I always choose wheat over white, and I've even turned into that mom who gives her family fruit for dessert. I think it's really important, especially when you're shaping the tastes of a small child, that you introduce a wide variety of healthy things. If all a child eats is bologna, ramen noodles and McDonald's, is anyone surprised when they become an overweight adult?

However, even as passionate as I am about this subject, I think that you can take it too far. That is why I love this video. I think everyone knows someone like this, and now we can mock them collectively. Ah, the power of the Internet.

Satire at its best!

I can't help myself . . .

2008-04-19T17:09:00.005-06:00

I'm such a hedonist.

I really love massages, and when I ran across this video, I decided to post it here. Granted, the guy is a little creepy (I think he looks like Toby from The Office), but that doesn't mean I wouldn't want one of those foot rubs he's doing!

Enjoy (and if you like this one, check out his other stuff on http://www.videojug.com/. The massages all look great--even if the masseuse remains slightly disturbing).

How To Give A Stress Relieving Foot Massage

Joy: Rediscovered

2008-04-15T08:43:00.003-06:00

I've done a lot of running in the last few years. Most of it was on a treadmill. All of it was motivated by a desire to burn calories. To be honest, I can't really say I liked it, but it is an effective exercise and a nice compliment to the other things I do.

But yesterday I rediscovered something that I knew as a child: the sheer joy of running.

It was a perfect kite flying day--warm and windy. Maya and I headed for a nearby park. We let out lots of string and soon had the kite dancing in the sky. The only problem was that the gusts of wind sometimes became so strong that they sent our poor kite spiraling into the ground. It became my job to chase the kite as it fell and try and catch it--not an easy thing to do as the wind buffeted it this way and that.

I found myself running at top speed, darting and weaving, trying to catch the uncatchable. As the wind whipped at my heels, I suddenly remembered what it was to be seven years old, to run with all your might, to have no worries. I remembered what it was to run because it was fun--without speed and distance measures, without an iPod, without pretense.

Maya and I were laughing and breathless as we relaunched the kite again and again. It was a simple activity with a $5.00 toy, but I doubt all the riches in the world could have brought us more joy.

It seems like we are all so busy trying to make our mark on this world. We all want to be important and influential. We all want to feel like we've accomplished great things. But maybe life isn't about the big moments. Maybe the little things really are the big things. Maybe it's about rediscovering the truths we knew when we were seven.

Sad Day

2008-04-09T10:16:00.003-06:00

Some little pissant keeps posting comments on my blog that, when clicked on, will install a virus and/or spyware on your computer. Apparently it is a common and wide-spread problem on Blogger.

So, to protect my friends or anyone else who might try and read my blog, I've been forced to switch to "moderated comments." This annoying feature means that before your comments can be posted to my blog, I have to review and approve them. I totally HATE that--it feels so Fox News-ish, but apparently it's the only recourse I have.

I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience!

Big Shocker

2008-04-03T13:14:00.006-06:00

Social rules dictate that you should never discuss religion or politics since you never know who you will offend. Unfortunately, I have one of those opinionated, big mouths that never cared too much for social convention. And since I am something of a political junkie, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to try this little test.

I guess the results will be no surprise to anyone who knows me well--after all, Jeff and I are infamous in our ward for being dirty Democrats (one family actually wanted to invite us over to dinner and try to "help" us have "correct" opinions! Seriously!). Anyway, according to this quiz, I'm liberal. Not 100% liberal, but liberal none the less.

Let me know how you rate (if you dare)!

Your Political Profile:

Overall: 35% Conservative, 65% Liberal

Social Issues: 25% Conservative, 75% Liberal

Personal Responsibility: 25% Conservative, 75% Liberal

Fiscal Issues: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal

Ethics: 25% Conservative, 75% Liberal

Defense and Crime: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal

How Liberal Or Conservative Are You?

Pet Peeves

2008-04-02T14:57:00.008-06:00

While at the gym today, I was working out behind a lady who had some pretty fancy panty lines going on under her spandex shorts. Maybe it was so noticeable because she was a bigger lady (and, hey, more power to her for being in the gym at all!), but it was like a scene from "What Not To Wear."

Anyway, it got me thinking about my personal fashion and beauty pet peeves. I think as women become mothers, frequently their own identities and needs go out the window. They put everyone ahead of themselves, and this leads to the dreaded "letting yourself go." Everybody knows I'm opinionated (okay, snarky), and this area is no exception. So, in an effort to call out moms everywhere, without further ado I present my Top Ten Faux Pas list:

1. Feet. Now I'm not an all-purpose foot hater, but I feel strongly that if you are going to subject the world to the sight of you in strappy sandals, open-toed shoes, or flip-flops, get a freaking pedicure! Nobody needs to see your ugly toe nails or flaky heels! Moms--treat yourself to a pedicure--even if you do it yourself. Your feet thank you (and so do we).

2. Frosted Eye Shadow. Perhaps this is a result of my days as a wedding photographer. I shot one bride who wore so much frosted white eye shadow, I got an actual reflection from her eyelids. I think it ages most women and makes their eyes look wrinkled. I recognize that there are a select few women who can pull of the "shimmer" eye look, but they are rare creatures with prodigious make up skill--and comprise about 5% of the total female population. If you haven't updated your make up wardrobe since 1987, it's time to reevaluate.

3. Black and Brown. I can't tell you how often I see people mixing black pants with a brown shirt (or vice versa). These colors DO NOT match. It's an eyesore.

4. Tanning. In this day and age, with all we know about sun exposure, I simply can't believe that there are people who purposely tan. Especially with all the really good products out there to give you a "sun kissed" look without the actual UV rays! I know I should say I'm against it for health reasons (and I am), but my main reason for being so anti-sun is vanity. It's the biggest cause of wrinkles (with the possible exception of smoking)! Even though I'm only 32, I ran into a friend from high school the other day and was shocked at how OLD she looked. She is a sun worshipper, and you could see what it's done to her face. Set a good example for your children. Save your skin! Use sunscreen!

5. Eyebrows. I think a clean, well maintained eyebrow is one of the nicest gifts you can give yourself. It frames your eyes and provides "grounding" for your entire face. I want to weep when I see women who don't do any brow grooming, or even worse, those who only do it occasionally and let the "stubble" just grow in. Really, keeping your brows clean isn't much work, and the payoff is instant.

6. Orange Blonde. I love to color my hair. Sometimes I'm not even sure what my natural color is! But I have to admit, I don't understand the trend where people go "orange-blonde." It is a hue that looks so hideous with most people's skin. When there are so many awesome blonde colors out there, why choose bleachy Cheeto? I don't get it.

7. Pink Foundation. Who had pink skin? No one. So why do so many people choose that horrible pink foundation from the drug store? It looks worse than their bare skin would! And there are some really good bases available--even at the grocery store! If I could influence one beauty trend, I think it would be to rid the women of the world of the scourge that is Pepto-Bismol foundation.

8. Sweats. Okay, let me clarify this. I own sweats. I wear sweats. To the gym. Around the house. Working in the yard. That is where sweats belong. But when I see people out at night in sweats, it makes me cringe. Granted, I live in Idaho, but still, it's the little things like our opposable thumbs and our ability to choose appropriate evening attire that set us aside from the apes.

9. Incorrect Sizes. How often do you see someone squeezed into clothes that don't fit because they're unwilling to buy a bigger size (think of the belly roll that is desperately attempting to escape captivity)? Or, almost as bad, how often do you see a woman wading around in baggy clothes that are 3 sizes too big in an attempt to hide her body (saggy pants and sleeves that make her look like she has monkey arms)? Both extremes make you look fat and frumpy. If you buy clothes that fit you well, regardless of your weight and size, you can look good!

10. Mom Jeans/Sweatshirts/Sweaters/Etc. I'm a mom and I love to be comfortable. But I'm a woman, too. I think it's vital that moms take care of themselves. You don't have to live your life out in that ratty old BYU sweatshirt! Take pride! Do a little something for yourself and throw out the ugly old clothes that make you feel like a unisex bus driver. You can be comfortable AND feel good about yourself! Just consider yourself a trailblazer who will empower her daughters and other women! Just say no . . . to awful clothes!

Feel free to add your pet peeves to this list. Together we can elevate mom-kind to a new and more confident level!

Want to stay disease free? Use protection!

2008-04-01T00:03:00.003-06:00

For your computer, that is.

A few days ago I wanted to download a nifty little program that converts DVDs to a format that can be played on my iPod, but I just didn't want to pay for it. So I found a site that had it available for "free." I thought, "why not?"

Well, I'll tell you why. It wasn't free. Of viruses. Or Spyware. Or Trojans (the electronic type). My forray into the shady world of underground software left me with a raging case of computer viruses!

Fortunately I have a genius-brother who fixed it all up for me (thanks, Russel), but I've learned my lesson. No more "free" downloads for me. I'm sticking with "safe surfing" from now on.

One Semester of Spanish Love Song

2008-03-21T20:31:00.005-06:00

Before going to Spain on my mission, I'd had over 5 years of Spanish (including three semesters in college), but when I found myself actually living there, I discovered that the things they teach you in classes don't always cut it! For my first few weeks, I felt like Tarzan ("Me want two bread please"). So, as an ode to anyone who has ever found themself at a loss for (foreign) words, I present the One Semester of Spanish Love Song:

http://cosmos.bcst.yahoo.com/up/player/popup/?cl=7068502

Me, Me, and More Me

2008-03-10T07:13:00.006-06:00

This morning I got a nice, 5:00 am wake-up call from my (not so darling) daughter, and I couldn't go back to sleep. I toyed with the idea of going to the gym, but I just don't function well before the sun rises (I'm sure I'm a rabid coffee addict in an alternate universe). So, instead of doing something productive, I took this on-line personality test that I saw on one of the blogs I read occasionally. It's funny that it called me "benevolent" since I don't particularly feel benevolent this early, but I suppose they don't have a "sleep-deprived mother" category.

All in all, this is one of the most accurate tests of its kind that I've ever taken. Check it out for yourself--but hopefully you can do it at a more reasonable hour.

Here are my results:

My personalDNA Report

Benevolent Creator

A Recipe you MUST try!!!

2008-03-02T18:21:00.002-07:00

Do you ever crave a little piece of cake, but don't want the hour-long hassle, the huge mess, or the other 10 servings of cake around to tempt you? Well, I got this recipe from my friend for single serving MICROWAVE CAKE, and it sounds so weird (or even gross), but I promise you, it's amazing! It's saved me when I need a little treat, but don't trust myself around a whole cake. Try it and I promise you won't be sorry.

All you do is mix 1 angel food cake mix (and it has to be the "one step" type that you don't add eggs to for this to work) with any other flavor of cake mix you want in a big Ziploc bag. The second cake mix will determine the flavor of your cake. You really don't taste the angel food at all--it just makes the thing rise. You just dump the boxes in dry. This is your "microwave mix," and you can just store it in the cupboard until you want cake.

To make the cake, mix 1/3 cup of this "microwave mix" with 3 tablespoons of water (and you need to actually measure accurately, with real measuring spoons) in a microwave-save container (I use a deep mug). Microwave it for 1 minute, then run a knife around the outside and plop it out on a plate. That's it. It's so easy--you don't have to grease the cup or anything. And it tastes like regular cake. Honestly!

We also like to drop a mini candy bar in with the batter. It makes it like a "lava cake." Or sometimes I'll put in a little scoop of hot fudge. It just sinks to the bottom and melts, which is so cool because your cake comes out "frosted."

And the best part (for anyone who does Weight Watchers), it's only 3 points!!! I wasn't sure when I first heard about it, but I promise you'll love it (and so will your kids).

Happy Leap Day.

2008-02-29T16:27:00.002-07:00

It's Leap Day, the happiest day of the year, er, every four years.

I love Leap Day because of all it represents--the beauty of its many traditions. Also because it's an extra day to pretend I'm going to finish my Visiting Teaching.

May the Leap Day spirit dwell in your hearts for the next 1460 days until this blessed holiday is upon us once again.

Word of the Day

2008-02-29T12:24:00.002-07:00

CONSECOTALEOPHOBIA: The irrational fear of chopsticks

(I ran across this one while reading Mark Bittman's The Best Recipes in the World. Great cookbook, weird word.)

An observation

2008-02-26T16:04:00.004-07:00

Ever notice that when you get your hair cut, the hairdressers have this knack for finishing your look with truly ugly styling?

I got a haircut today, and the cut itself is fine. But the style? I don't even know what to call it. It looks like a puffy helmet from 1963, complete with funky flips on the end. I mean, I'm still fairly young and pretty hip looking (if I do say so myself). What would convince a stylist that I'd want to look like Carol Brady? It mystifies me.

Of course I had to run to the store after I was done, and apparently it was Caldwell 10th Ward day. I knew practically every person I saw. I just pretended the "helmet" was invisible and held my (strangely coiffed) head high.

Life is full of humiliations.

Suspicion: The Holiday!

2008-02-26T11:49:00.004-07:00

Click to enlarge.

The Washing Machine Dilemma

2008-02-26T10:13:00.002-07:00

It's no secret that modern women hate washing the clothes. It's time consuming and no matter how much you do, there will always be new items waiting in the hamper the next day. However, last week our washing machine broke, and I've discovered that as much as I loathe doing the laundry, it's preferable to not being able to do the laundry!

Our washing machine is about 6 years old, and has never had problems before now. But suddenly it wouldn't "spin" or "drain." I was left with a load of unrinsed, soggy clothes floating in gray, soapy water. Jeff and I wondered if this meant it was time to visit our local appliance store.

But something in me just snapped. I was not interested in spending our hard earned money on something as unglamorous as a washing machine! So I went to work . . .

I poked and prodded, kicked and banged, guessed and cussed, until I narrowed the problem down to a little part that had broken. It was made of plastic and it had just snapped. So I did some research, found out what the part was called, and ordered another one on line.

It arrived yesterday and I spent the afternoon tearing the washing machine apart. I took the control panel off and then removed the whole metal housing around the machine. Then I was able to get to the part, disconnect it, and put the new one in. The whole process only took about 15 minutes.

Unfortunately, putting it all back together correctly took about 2 hours! It's definitely easier to tear apart than to reassemble!

But in the end, we had a fully-functional washing machine--all for about 6 bucks.

And my reward for all this ingenuity and hard work? The backlogged 7 loads of laundry waiting to be washed. Yippee.

Animals I've Eaten

2008-02-22T18:39:00.005-07:00

Cow
Pig
Chicken
Deer
Moose
Goose
Duck
Turkey
Pigeon Dove
Cornish Game Hen
Octopus
Squid
Shrimp
Lobster
Crab
Scallop
Mussel
Clam
Rock lobster (crayfish)
Caribou
Fish (Salmon, Cod, Swordfish, Tuna, Halibut, Talapia, Haddock, Lots of others--I can't remember them all)
-Sub category: Caviar
Goat
Lamb
Rabbit
Brahma Bull
Buffalo
Elk
Earth worm (thanks, Grandpa Gil)

That's all I can think of for now. To my knowledge, I've never eaten horse, dog, cat, or rat. But since I've eaten at Chinese restaurants before, who knows?

I cringe, yet I am fascinated . . .

2008-02-12T10:49:00.000-07:00

WARNING: The following post, though true and accurate to the best of my knowledge, is not for the faint of heart, stomach, or colon.

I have to admit it--I'm an infomercial junkie. I've watched them all. I'd never actually buy something from an infomercial, but they're like my visual crack; I can't stop, despite my desire to kick the habit.

Anyway, my current favorite infomercial is simply horrible. So horrible, in fact, that I get a strange thrill. It's like driving by a gruesome accident and not wanting to see, but finding yourself unable to look away. The product is called "Dual Action Cleanse" which is a colon detoxifier. And, in case you're wondering, yes, the entire half-hour program is all about your poop.

They spend the whole time using words like "girth," "length," and "texture," and they all apply to your bowel movements. They promise that if you use their product, you'll have bigger, more satisfying dumps. My jaw just dropped as I watched them. I couldn't believe someone was actually talking about "number 2" on TV (and it wasn't even South Park).

To make it all the more hideous/compelling, the creator of the product is this guy:

and you just know he's unnaturally interested in colons.

Fortunately, they don't actually SHOW the "new and improved" poop on the program, but if you're really morbid, check out this website that I found while looking for the picture above of the creepy colon king: http://www.coloncleansingblog.com/. If you dare to click the link, you have to be sure to scroll down to the pictures. It's beyond awful (and yet, I was curiously fascinated).

Happy pooping, everybody.

2008-02-09T11:03:00.000-07:00

When Jeff and I were first married, we had 5 loads of laundry each week; whites, darks, colors, towels, and sheets. That was it.

Then this little person joined our family. It was just 8 pounds of additional flesh. I didn't think it could make much difference.

I was wrong.

Somehow, that little person (well, not quite so little anymore--now up to 40 pounds), increases our laundry to 2-3 loads each day. It doesn't add up, but somehow that is how it works out. It feels like I'm doing laundry all the time (I don't know how mothers with bigger families manage).

So, I've resolved that if I ever have another child, we'll have to take drastic laundry-reducing measures. My ideas so far: drying ourselves with disposable napkins pilfered from gas stations and fast food restaurants, lining our beds with plastic shower curtains, dressing in all black clothing to hide the dirt, and showering in our underwear.

Hmmm, as I consider that list, it occurs to me that maybe there is a reason that I've only been graced with one child!

Karma?

2008-02-08T15:17:00.000-07:00

Remember how I didn't win the "Extreme Body Makeover" at my gym (even though they made me do the work-out from Hell)?

Well, I found out today that the trainer who rejected me just broke his leg.

Karma?

I think so.

(Disclaimer: The above will probably sound like sour grapes. It is. But don't worry, as soon as I can use the bathroom without cringing when I squat, I'm sure I'll be my usual chipper self again.)

Humble Pie

2008-02-06T15:34:00.001-07:00

I'm officially humbled.

Let me tell you about it. Our gym had a contest to win 3 months of personal training (which is worth about $1,000). All you had to do is write an essay about why you'd be a good candidate for their "Extreme Body Makeover."

I figured I had nothing to loose, and entered. My essay was pretty funny (if I do say so myself).

And to my delight, they called me a few days later and told me I was a semi-finalist. All that was left to do was in for an interview and a sample workout. I usually interview well, so I was sure that wouldn't be a huge problem. And I'm quite a dedicated exerciser, so I figured I'd blow them out of the water.

Well, the interview turned out to be a group interview, with me and the other two finalists (can we say awkward). One finalist was a (really) fat, single mother. The other was a (slightly) gone-to-seed former football player. I figured I had them whipped before we even started.

The interview was pretty standard.

Then they started the workout. When they said it was just going to be four minutes long, inwardly I laughed. I regularly do 90 minute spinning classes at full speed. I knew it would be a piece of cake.

Turns out I was wrong. It was pie. Humble pie, that is. They had us doing these speed squats while holding weights. After 20 seconds I was breathing hard. At one minute, I was gasping. As we were nearing the end of the four minutes, I'd pushed myself so hard that stomach acid was being forced up my windpipe and I could barely walk.

The next day (which was yesterday), I was so sore I could hardly get out of bed, and our home's 13 stairs were torture each time I had to traverse them. My voice was weak from the stomach acid and I walked like Edward Scissorhands. I tried to run with Maya but I couldn't. My muscles simply wouldn't support my weight.

Today I got the call with the results. Turns out I worked too hard. They figured they couldn't make a dramatic change with me since I was already involved in a workout routine. They chose the really fat chick. So I've crippled myself for nothing. Nice.

Oh well--it's all going to be okay. I'm consoling my wounded pride and burning thighs by fantasizing about buying a whole case of Twinkies and skipping workouts for the rest of the week. That'd show 'em!

My life as an ILLUSTRATOR??

2008-02-06T01:19:00.000-07:00

As many of you know, my father-in-law, Jerry, is a writer. He's sold well over 100,000 copies of his books and is very talented (just don't tell him I said so--we've got to keep him humble!).

Anyway, about a month ago, he approached me about drawing something for a manuscript he wrote. He'd seen me doodle for Maya in Sacrament Meeting to keep her busy, and thought I should try it. He was looking for a picture of a Deusenburg. At the time, I had no clue what that was (for anyone else who is as unsavvy as I was, it's a car). I used to draw all the time, but hadn't done anything serious since I was a teenager. But since I had nothing better to do, I told him I'd give it a shot.

Well, he liked what I drew enough to commission me for the inside cover of his next book! It will come out in April, and so I guess I've officially become an illustrator! It's been really fun to revisit an old interest, and I'm thinking I'd like to continue with the whole art thing.

I drew three pencil sketches: a British Naval Officer, the White House, and a full-length British Commando (but I don't have a copy of the last one to show everybody--too bad, too. He was good looking!). Anyway, here are the first two sketches. They look a little different scanned and reduced (the originals were 11x17), but you get the idea. Hope you like them.

I'm Back

2008-02-06T00:51:00.000-07:00

Well, after a long (and not particularly productive) hiatus, I am back. I'll try and recap the last 6 weeks of stuff I missed:

7th Anniversary: Night out on the town followed by a surprise overnight hotel stay. Nice.

Chirstmas: With Jeff's family in Utah. Forgot my camera. Holiday--Good. Camera Lapse--Bad

32nd Birthday: Old

Calling: New (Gospel Doctrine Teacher)

New Years: Boring

Jeff's Birthday: Not as old as me, but getting older none the less

Family Life: Goes on

There. You're caught up.

The meek

2007-12-08T15:23:00.000-07:00

They say that the meek will inherit the Earth. I have no doubt it's true. But after venturing to our local WalMart on a Saturday afternoon in the height of the Christmas shopping season, I have this to say: let the meek have the Earth--I'll settle for the parking space I muscled away from a distracted woman driving a minivan.

And so I present a new beatitude: blessed are the aggressive and ruthless, for they shall finish their shopping.

Christmas Bliss (or when karaoke goes horribly wrong)

2007-11-29T13:17:00.000-07:00

They say music speaks directly to the soul. I believe it's true. That's why I've decided to post this Christmas song. I hope it brings you the joy it has brought me (*snicker*).

http://www.stickam.com/editMediaComment.do?method=load&mId=177246323

(You may have heard this before, but it's worth a repeat. If your connection is slow or it won't play, just reload the page. Every time the line "fall on your knees" is sung, you'll be glad you waited.)

Hungry?

2007-11-21T23:12:00.000-07:00

After consuming a massive Thanksgiving day dinner, I like a little piece of chocolate to round everything out. This year, I think this is what I'll serve:

http://cgi.ebay.com/Edible-Bugs-Dipped-in-Chocolate-Bush-Tucker-Insects_W0QQitemZ150182145519QQcmdZViewItem?hash=item150182145519

Yum.

A Confesson

2007-11-15T15:09:00.000-07:00

I have thousands of reasons why I should hate Chicken McNuggets. They are deep fried, processed, filled with salt, made from pressed chicken parts, probably contain pieces of hundreds of chickens in each nugget, they support a chain that represents everything I hate about globalization etc, etc. And yet, I still crave them.

Honestly, there is nothing better than dipping a hot, crunchy lump of chicken matter into a little pot of high-fructose-corn-syrup-laden sauce. It should repulse me, but it doesn't. I thought adults outgrew childish tastes, but in this instance, I have not. I could eat Chicken McNuggets every day. And I detest myself for it.

But this photo that I found might just creep me out enough to provide the will power I lack. It's from a real McDonald's ad from India:

Doesn't this look like something from Stephen King's It? I think it's disturbing. I mean, if we consider who this child's father must be, I think it's abundantly clear that Ronald McDonald is not the role model he claims to be (I don't recall seeing anything about old Ronnie tying the knot recently).

Maybe I'll try and forget about it over a nice order of Nuggets.

Some things should not be attempted. Ever.

2007-11-14T15:57:00.000-07:00

I love to knit. It's a newer hobby of mine, and I enjoy scouring the Internet for free patterns, tips, ideas, etc. Right now I'm in the middle of making a pair of socks. They should be quite functional and comfortable when they're done.

However, much as I love needlecraft, I believe some things should not be homemade (or made at all, actually). Edible underwear falls in this category.

Check out what I stumbled across while looking at a knitting site:
http://www.knitty.com/issuesummer04/PATT302calories.html

Their one saving grace, I suppose, is the zero fat content and modest 302 calorie value.

Plus, Now I know what to give my Visiting Teaching sisters for Christmas.

One Hundred Things

2007-11-13T08:52:00.003-07:00

Recently, all my friends have been posting really funny/insightful lists of one hundred things about them. I don't know if I can come up with a list that long, but I'm going to try:

1. My full name is Eden Marie Riley Borrowman
2. I've always liked the name Eden, but I think the name Marie is dumb. So Mormon. In my married life, I've pretty much dropped it and just use "Riley" as a middle name.
3. I'm just a smidge under six feet tall (like 5'11 3/4").
4. I tell people that I am six feet tall.
5. I am prone to exaggeration.
6. I haven't missed a day of reading my scriptures for over ten years.
7. Okay, that might be an exaggeration. I've probably missed six or seven days.
8. I'm a classic oldest child--bossy, know-it-all, a "driver."
9. The first time I met Jeff, I heard a voice in my head that said, "You're going to marry him."
10. I didn't believe the voice. Jeff wasn't my type.
11. We were also both missionaries, and I was going home in three months, while he had only been serving for three months.
12. I also had a boyfriend.
13. I got engaged to the boyfriend about 2 weeks after coming home from my mission.
14. I didn't marry him (obviously). It turned out to be a really good thing, cause in retrospect, he was totally wrong for me.
15. Growing up, the only thing I ever stole from the grocery store was a small piece of purple cabbage.
16. I wanted to try it, so I picked it off the head of cabbage and ate it.
17. I felt terrible when my mom told me I had just stolen. I cried.
18. As an adult, I've actually stolen lots of stuff from the store--but not on purpose.
19. Once I checked out of Fred Meyer with strawberries in my hand, and didn't realize until I got home and checked the receipt that I never set them down on the belt with my other items to pay for them. I called Fred Meyer and offered to come back or send them a check. They told me to just consider it a "happy birthday" present.
20. Since having my daughter, I've become so scatter brained (or better, distracted) at the store, that I regularly walk out to the car and realize there's still something in the cart that I didn't put on the belt to pay for.
21. I always take it back in (even though it's a pain to do).
22. I love to exercise and usually go to the gym at least 5 days a week.
23. I'm a "born again" exerciser, because I used to hate it.
24. In the year I've been faithfully exercising, I've lost 30 pounds (but my thighs are getting bigger, not smaller, because I love spinning). I'm about the same size I was before getting pregnant, but in much better shape.
25. I've discovered I'm really good at spinning (aka indoor cycling).
26. The gym approached me about becoming a spinning teacher and working for them a few hours a week. I think I'm going to do it.
27. I think people should follow the rules, and it really makes me mad when they don't.
28. There is a fire hydrant in our yard, and the neighbors always park in front of it (they're there right now).
29 This afternoon I'm going to call the police and tell them that the car is there. It's an expensive ticket (like $150), and the police love to write it. That should stop the parking problem.
30. I'm the kind of person who calls the police on other people.
31. I love to read. I can finish a large book (800 or more pages) in a day.
32. When I was 13, I dyed my hair black for Halloween with "temporary" dye, and it turned my hair green permanently. My mom wouldn't let me dye it back.
33. I regift. Sorry. I consider it recycling, so hey, I'm saving the planet!
34. I hate bad grammar.
35. Once I was talking to a customer service representative on the phone and she kept using bad grammar. She was being rude and wasn't doing what I wanted her to, so I got fed up and lost my cool. I told her if she was going to deal with the public, she had better mind her grammar because her speech made her sound uneducated and ignorant. I listed all the mistakes she had made, rattled off the rules for conjugation of verbs, and told her I could recommend some good books if she ever wanted to be taken seriously.
36. She never did fix my problem.
37. I'm a terrible speller.
38. Spelling is not as important as grammar.
39. When I'm "wronged" I come up with elaborate revenge schemes. I spend weeks savoring every detail.
40. I've never actually carried out one of my schemes--but if I did, there would be suffering.
41. I need to learn to be more Christ-like.
42. Hair on the bathroom floor makes me gag. I have to hold my breath while I clean it up.
43. My favorite color is blue.
44. I don't like being pregnant. It's miserable. Giving birth is not so bad.
45. I'd love to have more children, but it might not happen. If it doesn't, I'm actually okay with it. I have a great daughter and I really adore her.
46. After being Relief Society President for three years, I've now spent two months without a calling.
47. I really don't want one. I'll say "yes" when (and if) they offer me one, but for right now, I'm really enjoying myself. Am I bad?
48. I've never liked stuffed animals. I think they're stupid.
49. When my daughter was first born and I stopped working, I started watching soap operas during the day. I got pretty involved in a few. Then I realized that they're completely ridiculous. I don't watch them anymore.
50. I feed my child carrots, apples, and raisins for snacks. I buy chocolate and hide it for myself.
51. I was a vegetarian for about two years.
52. I got sooooo sick when I first started eating meat again (the "Hershey squirts" like you wouldn't believe).
53. I dated a lot before I met Jeff.
54. I was incredibly shallow about boys before I got married (and in retrospect, I had totally unrealistic ideals). I dismissed guys for very superficial reasons.
55. Here are some of them: voice too high, crooked teeth, not tall enough, bad shoes, bad grammar, too fat, too old, too skinny, had moose horns on truck, played Celine Dion CD in car on date. That's all I can remember for now. I'd like to think if I were in the dating world today, I'd be less judgemental (but I bet I'd be the same).
56. I volunteer at our local elementary school working with Spanish-speaking kindergartners.
57. I'm a perfectionist in some things, but not everything.
58. I love perfume, but I'm a snob about it. I'm very selective and all my favorites are supremely expensive. I haven't bought any perfume since the kid was born and I stopped working (or I hadn't until our vacation a few weeks ago. I bought some perfume from a French factory we saw. My nose was so overwhelmed I couldn't tell what the heck it was, but the lady assured me I'd love it. I don't.).
59. We were SOOOOO poor when Maya was born. Jeff had just graduated from college and I had just quit work. My grocery budget was $25 a week!
60. Jeff is AWESOME at his job, has been promoted four times in the four subsequent years, and now I don't worry about the price of carrots!
61. I admit it . . . I Google myself regularly.
62. I am a Democrat.
63. People in the ward are scandalized by that fact.
64. As a child, my mom told me I was adopted.
65. She said she'd bought me at the K-mart, but that recently I'd developed a crack in my butt, so she was thinking of returning me. She'd even pick up the phone and "call" K-mart to find out their return policy. I'd howl. She thought it was funny.
66. I don't do that to Maya.
67. Instead, I teach her to say crazy things, do the "shake-a-booty" dance, and sneak-attack her sleeping father. Now that's funny.
68. I never used to floss. For the last 6 months, I've become a devoted flosser. Now that I see all the junk that comes out of my teeth each night, I'm horrified.
69. My favorite fruit is raspberries. My grandma used to let me eat them with milk and sugar. She always had some for me from her freezer when we went to visit.
70. I've never slept naked.
71. In the third grade, I had a massive crush on Michael Jackson. I even carved our initials on an apple tree in my Grandma's yard (the one that was right about where Linda's garage is now). I was so sad that our age difference made a true union between us impossible (little did I know that it wasn't my age, but my gender, that was the real obstacle).
72. I was obsessed with Depeche Mode and the Cure in high school. In college I was obsessed with Tori Amos. I don't listen to any of them much now (I'm more into Barney and Disney Princess Songs--though not by choice). My current favorite (adult) music is from Imogen Heap.
73. At 15, I bought beer for my friends and never got carded.
74. I never drank it. We'd go out to the middle of nowhere and they'd meet up with random boys and get sloshed. I would just watch.
75. I didn't have the best friends when I was 15. We moved and found a much nicer crowd.
76. Until my mission, I'd only been in the Western States (and very few of them). Thanks to the Borrowmans and their wanderlust (which is catching), I've now been to more places.
77. Here are the states and countries I've been to: Washington, Oregon, California, Hawaii, Nevada, Idaho, Utah, Arizona, Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, Missouri, Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, Atlanta, Washington D.C., New York, Minnesota, Spain, France, Italy, Monaco (those last ones are new additions!).
78. The top places I'd like to go: Brazil, Greece, The Seychelles Islands, Belgium, Turkey, Prince Edward Island (I've been reading Anne of Green Gables again), Costa Rica, New Zealand. We'll see--maybe someday!
79. When I was three I cut my sister's hair and hid the evidence under the dresser (I was babysitting at the time. I think my mom had run up the street to Grandma's house).
80. It's 10:30 in the morning and I'm still in my pajamas. I haven't showered or done the breakfast dishes yet. I tell myself it's because I've got to go to the gym first--but really it's because this dumb list takes a while to make up!
81. Yup. It's official--I've missed my spinning class. Stupid list!
82. When I was four, I got peed on while riding the Ferris wheel. A little girl above us couldn't wait any longer.
83. I don't wear any jewelry other than my wedding ring, which I only take off for lifting weights and running the garbage disposal.
84. I have an irrational fear that my wedding ring is going to fall in the garbage disposal. I always take it off and put it across the room before turning the machine on.
85. I planted a garden but didn't harvest the remaining tomatoes before going on vacation. Bushels of them are now dead from frost.
86. I'll deal with it in the spring.
87. I tend to procrastinate.
88. This list isn't very funny. Here's something to liven it up. When I was a kid, I dug a hole in the yard and told my sister, Elayne, it was a toilet. I made her poop in it.
89. She was pretty easy to trick when she was young, but she got mean when she grew older. We're friends now.
90. I had two parakeets growing up. They were named Bonnie and Clyde, and I really liked them. Unfortunately, one day Clyde got out and flew straight out the door into the sub-zero winter. May his hard, frozen little tropical body rest in peace.
91. I want to get Maya a bird for Christmas (easier to care for than a dog, no stinky litter box like a cat--and besides, I hate cats). Jeff isn't so sure.
92. Jeff hates birds. He's afraid of them, I think (his Dad is).
93. I've never been in a proper fist fight, but I did punch a boy in the nose on the bus. I was worried about getting in trouble for it, so I spent the rest of the ride apologizing!
94. I graduated high school in '94.
95. When I left for my mission, "Grunge" was still the thing. The first day I was home, 18 months later, I put on my old flannel and went for a drive. I was listening to the radio and I heard an ad saying, "Are you still wearing a flannel shirt? Helloooo, welcome to the present". I made sure no one was looking and then took off the flannel.
96. I love The Office and Friday Night Lights. I also like House and 30 Rock, and I adore Masterpiece Theatre, but I can't think of any other shows I watch religiously.
97. I have been stalked before! Of course, remembering that I'm prone to exaggeration, it probably didn't fit the legal definition of stalking, but I could not get this guy to leave me alone. It started to really scare me. I was just getting ready to leave on a mission, and the guy told me he was making arrangements to come to Spain (where I was going) to visit me. It totally freaked me out. The mission office actually had standing orders not to reveal my location to anyone who might inquire about me.
98. I love khaki pants. At one time I had almost 20 pairs (some of them identical). My sister-in-law made fun of me, so I gave the majority of them to DI, but I still find myself drawn to anything khaki.
99. Our daughter is named Maya Isabel, but I actually wanted to name her Isabel Maya. Jeff didn't think Isabel was an appropriate name for a little girl.
100. I'm a nerd. Always have been, always will be. Suits me just fine.

Done!

Bats, Bats, Bats

2007-11-12T07:54:00.000-07:00

The other day I was using the bathroom. Being a mother, I've foregone any expectation of privacy, and I wasn't surprised when Maya walked in. I hadn't turned on the light since it was daytime, so she flipped the switch and said, "Mom, you've got to turn on the light when you use the bathroom. You're not a bat."

I thought it was quite funny, and decided to post it. Of course, when you have a bat themed story, you simply must have a picture of Bat Boy, so I googled it, and that's when the real adventure started.

My Google search showed that Bat Boy isn't just a print phenomenon anymore . . . he's been put to music! That's right, you can now thrill your Broadway senses with an enchanting tale--Bat Boy (the musical)! And lest you think I'm kidding, check out http://www.batboy.co.uk/ for details. Apparently it's actually quite a popular and well reviewed show. Jeff really hates live theatre, but I might just be able to get him out of the house for this one. However, the chances of it playing in conservative Idaho seem slim (especially considering the purported inter-species love scenes).

Well, once you've Googled Bat Boy, you can't help but be led to the Weekly World News web site, and that's a kitsch zoo of an entirely different level. I always wondered who bought the magazine in the grocery store, and the web site is even more intense. Can someone just please tell me--is this supposed to be tongue-in-cheek, or do people really take it seriously? For your browsing pleasure, check out their segment entitled, "People Are Strange" http://www.weeklyworldnews.com/news/people/13 (and remember, for the WWN to consider someone strange, that individual has got to be REALLY strange). Make sure you scroll through all the case studies (by hitting next) for maximum impact.

Happy reading.

New Toy!

2007-10-22T08:39:00.000-06:00

I got a new toy . . .

We're getting ready for our big trip to Europe and after reading about the horrible pick-pockets in Italy, we decided not to take our nice camera. Even though it is going to be a picture-taking paradise, if someone were to steal our equipment, I'd cry. Plus, I have a few jobs booked for after our trip and without our professional camera, I wouldn't be able to do them.

Anyway, with all that in mind, we decided to pick up a smaller camera that could do decent photos but not make us nervous to carry. So I got a little Nikon (love those Nikons!) Coolpix L12. It's certainly no professional camera, but I am actually getting better pictures with it than I thought possible.

Plus, it can do this (note the use of Nerd candy--appropriate, eh?):

Mysterious

2007-10-18T16:00:00.000-06:00

The Borrowman clan is spread out all over the United States these days. Jeff and I live in Idaho. His parents live in Utah. His brother lived in Orlando until just recently when he moved to San Francisco. None of us even live in the same state, but for some reason, I get mail for everybody at my address. Just today, I got something for Scott from Clearwire. This is far from an isolated incident. Forget the fact that Scott hasn't lived in Idaho for about 25 years (since he was a preschooler). Forget that I've returned countless letters to the sender informing them that Scott does not now, nor has he ever lived at this address. At least 2 or 3 times a month, I get mail for him from Clearwire (they must REALLY want him as a customer).

How do these companies match our family's names with our address? I really don't know, but we don't get mail for other "Borrowmans," just the ones we're really related to. Weird.

Anyway, here is a brief list to inform all our family of the companies that want to contact them (though not enough to actually send it to the right address):

JERRY: About once a quarter, AARP invites you to join their organization. They must think you've really gone down hill if they keep trying to contact you at your son's house!

MARCELLA: Redbook wants you to subscribe. Also, you must be a popular bank patron, because we get offers for you to open new accounts about once a month. (Not that I'm complaining--we actually joined a bank based on a flyer sent in your name--and got two free iPods!).

HILARY: AOL has sent us so many CDs for you, we're thinking of wallpapering the guest room with them. Think of it: The Hilary Borrowman Memorial AOL Room--as classy as the Lincoln bedroom and twice as shiny.

SCOTT: In addition to Clearwire, AOL would also like you to know the joy of Internet chat rooms.

KELISSA: Playgirl wants you to renew your subscription. I didn't worry about trying to forward that one to you since I figured you'd notice right away if your magazine didn't arrive this month. (Okay, fine. I admit I made that last one up. We don't get much mail for you. Sheesh.).

For book lovers

2007-10-17T14:04:00.001-06:00

I love to read. It's one of my very favorite things to do. Unfortunately, it can be difficult (or even unsafe/illegal) to do while driving, scrubbing toilets, or chopping celery. But I recently discovered some really cool web sites. They have free audio books you can put on your Ipod (or even burn to disc if you wanted). It's mostly older books where the copyright has expired and they've entered the public domain, but don't let that discourage you from checking it out. There's some great stuff!

http://www.audiobooksforfree.com/
http://www.gutenberg.org/wiki/Main_Page

Irony

2007-10-07T12:32:00.000-06:00

My name is Eden. You would think, having been named for a paradisaical garden, I'd inherently have some shred of a green thumb. You would be wrong.

The image that follows, massacred in only two weeks, shows why I'm only buying plastic plants from now on.

For Your Information

2007-09-28T18:42:00.000-06:00

I wanted to find a funny, retro picture of a mother spanking her child to give my last post that "little something extra." However, I learned something valuable in the process and I wanted to pass on. It is not a good idea to Google "retro spanking pictures." Just trust me on this one.

P.C. Parenting

2007-09-27T21:34:00.000-06:00

Does anyone else remember the days when parents hadn't discovered political correctness?

Today's parent is all about positive reinforcement and cloaking everything in niceness. "Why, Johnny, while Mommy is upset that you've broken her priceless Tiffany lamp, look at the beautiful design the broken shards of glass make on the floor. I'm proud of your artistic talent, sweetheart. Now finish your soy cookies."

The other day we were at swimming lessons with Maya when I noticed a grandmother sitting next to me. She was trying to tug too-tight goggles on her granddaughter. Meanwhile, the child was making noises like a wounded animal, park grunt, part howl. She'd screwed up her snot-filled, scrunched-eyed, face and looked like the textbook example of a tantrum. The grandma kept saying, "use your words."

It sounded so weird coming from her mouth, unnatural and foreign. I'm sure it's not a phrase she used 30 years ago with her own children. It reminded me of when old people talk about "going on the inter-web," or try and figure out how to use a TiVo: some things just don't seem to cross generational lines very well, and the new p.c. parenting is one of them.

Anyway, it got me thinking about all the things my parents used to say when I way a kid. Most of them are not very p.c. Some might fit the legal description of assault. So, here's a list of some all-time favorite threats that are now out of style:

-I'm going to kick you so hard you'll wind up in next Tuesday.
-Stop that crying or I'll give you something to cry about .
-Well, if everyone jumped off a cliff, would you?
-Just wait until your father gets home . . .
-No.
-Go find something you want to be spanked with.
-Were you born in a barn?
-This is going to hurt me a lot more than it is going to hurt you.
-As long as you live under my roof, you'll live by my rules.

Feel free to add your favorites to this list!

Homemade . . .

2007-09-25T09:33:00.001-06:00

Some things are best homemade. Cinnamon rolls, chocolate chip cookies, garden tomatoes--these are commodities that just can't be duplicated by the commercial world.

But some things should not be attempted in the home, especially by the untrained. The following photographic evidence shows that haircuts and perms are in this category.

I found this picture today while I was cleaning a closet. I think it was First Grade. Was it any wonder I wasn't smiling?

Mormon Food

2007-09-13T13:50:00.000-06:00

When I say "Mormon food," I'm pretty sure that other Mormons know exactly what I'm talking about. I mean, it only makes sense that when mothers try and feed 13 children on a budget of $63 a month, you're going to get some weird stuff. "Mormon food" includes delicacies like Jello Salad, Funeral Potatoes, Taco Soup (or any soup based on an entree that nature never intended to be liquefied), anything made with copious amounts of Cream of Chicken soup, and homemade bread (aka cardboard) that tries to use only food storage ingredients. Most of it tastes pretty good, though no one would ever mistakenly call it gourmet.

So when I went to our Relief Society Cooking Club on Tuesday and saw that someone was demonstrating "Zucchini Quesadillas," I thought it was a classic example of Mormon food. However, they were really surprising, and (for anyone who cares about Weight Watchers) only 5 Points. They're good enough that it's worth trying, even if you don't normally like zucchini. It was originally a vegetarian dish, but I'm making it tonight with a little bit of chicken added. Here's the recipe:

Zucchini Quesadillas

2 cups coarsely shredded zucchini
1 cup black beans, drained
1 jar salsa
10 Whole Wheat Tortillas
cooking spray
1 cup shredded pepper jack cheese

Mix zucchini, salsa, and black beans. Spray a tortilla with cooking spray and lay it in a pan over medium heat. Spread zucchini mix over tortilla. Top with shredded cheese. Lay a second tortilla over the zucchini mixture and spray top with cooking spray. Cook until browned on bottom. Flip and cook other side until brown (about 3-5 minutes total cooking time). Serve with salsa, sour cream, guacamole, whatever.

Happy eating--and may your serving of Jello always have the most shredded carrots.

A Dose of Humor

2007-09-13T13:39:00.000-06:00

Ed was in trouble. He forgot his wedding anniversary. His wife was really angry. She told him "Tomorrow morning, I expect to find a gift in the driveway that goes from 0 to 200 in less than 6 seconds. AND IT BETTER BE THERE!!"

The next morning Ed got up early and left for work. When his wife woke up she looked out the window and sure enough there was a box gift-wrapped in the middle of the driveway. Confused, she put on her robe, ran out to the driveway, and brought the box back in the house. She opened it and found a brand new bathroom scale.

Ed has been missing since Friday. Please pray for him.

End of the Road

2007-09-09T14:54:00.000-06:00

I just finished a race three years in the making. As of today, I am no longer the Relief Society President. I was released this afternoon in Sacrament Meeting. It is a bitter-sweet moment (well, I guess if I'm honest, it's mostly sweet).

I've had difficult callings before (let's just remember my time as Girl's Camp Director--anyone who knows how much I loathe camping knows what an exercise of pure obedience that was!), but, with the exception of my full-time mission, I've never had such a busy church assignment. I've loved the sisters, but I'm thankful that my tenure is complete!

As a "calling-in-review," here's a commemorative list of some of the weird things I've seen and/or done as Relief Society President:

*Cleaning the Filthiest House in the city (we filled two industrial sized dumpsters with the trash and it didn't even look like we'd been there.)
*Dealing with Health and Welfare to remove the children from the Filthiest House in the city
*Dealing with the mother who figured out that I called Health and Welfare!
*People who complain that the food that was brought in for them didn't include dessert
*Bathing countless stinky children who people asked me to babysit (I don't let dirty kids sit on my couches!)
*Making 150 baby quilts in 3 months
*Making 140 ridiculous crowns of thorns for the stake (from real thorns . . . I'll show you the scars!)
*People who want food orders but don't know the church's name
*Figuring out what to say in a lesson when a woman raises her hand and announces that her dead son communicates with her to tell her the secrets of eternity
*Taking a "sick" woman's kids to the WIC office for her to get them signed up for benefits, just to find out later that she spent the time shopping at Baby Gap.

Charity Never Faileth!

The Mark of Friendship

2007-09-08T00:52:00.000-06:00

Question: How can you tell a person who has no friends?
Answer: They're buying zucchini at the grocery store.

Our garden is at its peak, and we're enjoying all the fresh produce. This is our third year growing a garden, and each year I've learned a little bit more. Last year we over-watered our tomatoes and ended up with beautiful shade trees, but no fruit. The year before, we planted too early and lost some of our tender young sprouts to a late frost. This year I've learned that zucchini is the Gestapo of vegetables. It has taken over everything and it's completely out of control!

My zucchini has never flourished before. The last two years they got blight and squash beetles, so I didn't really get anything from them. This year I planted two (and one died), but I still have so much zucchini, I could hollow it out and wear a new pair of vegetable shoes every day.

Anyway, here is a picture of Jeff and I holding one of our masterpieces. Note that we have aged several years, (and given up on fashion completely) but you can see that all the vitamins helped Jeff grow back his hair. This gives you a good idea of the average yield we're getting each day.

"Compliments"

2007-08-29T10:43:00.000-06:00

"You sure are light on your feet for someone of your size!"

"That dinner you cooked was very interesting."

"Your new haircut is great! It makes you look just like my Great Aunt Doris!"

I adore "compliments." You know what I mean--when people say something insulting but package it in a flattering sentence structure. Sometimes "compliments" are on purpose and sometimes they really are a clumsy attempt to express approval. To me, it really doesn't matter. I truly love them either way.

And speaking of "compliments," Jeff and I had to sing in Sacrament Meeting on Sunday. It all started with my opening my big mouth at the wrong time. The choir director, a very talented but somewhat potent woman (she's like the Patton of church music) was complaining that she didn't have enough men participating. I mentioned, without thinking, that Jeff should sing in the choir because he was in Madrigals in high school. "Well," she said, "I'd like him to sing a solo. What day works for you?".

Of course Jeff was furious with me. He also absolutely refused. We were able to put off the General for several weeks (it helped that she didn't have our new phone number), but finally she cornered us.

And so it was that Jeff and Eden Borrowman were put on the program for a duet (Jeff said if he had to do it, so did I).

Not being particularly musical, we scoured the internet for arrangements that met our requirements: it had to be very short, not too high, not too complicated, and not require either of us to sing long solo parts. FINALLY we found a piece that worked on a web site by a lady named Sally DeFord (http://www.defordmusic.com/) . If you're ever bored, check out her site--it has really cool stuff. We did "For the Beauty of the Earth" with Jeff singing the soprano part (an octave lower) and me singing alto and it actually turned out pretty well.

So, here's where the "compliments" come in . . . .

Several people told us we did a good job, but one lady took the cake. She's the sweetest woman, not a malicious bone in her body, so I file this one under the "unintended 'compliment'" category.

She pulled me aside after church and said, "I didn't know your husband sang!" Then she gushed about how great his voice was (and it is, so he can quit being mad about my setting him up!). Then she paused and said, "Oh, and you blended really well."

Isn't that fabulous!

The Trial of the Century

2007-08-28T23:39:00.000-06:00

In the distant future, historians will probably look back and compile a list of the most important legal decisions of our age. I suspect my trial won't be on that list.

And that's a shame.

From an anthropological standpoint, this trial could be the best example of "Caldwell Culture" I've ever seen. It was the embodiment of that elusive mix of illiteracy, domestic violence, methamphetamine, and white-trash pride that makes Canyon County so distinct.

This was my first time serving on a jury. Of course, I've received a classical American legal education (I attended John Grisham University with minors in CSI and Perry Mason) and even received an advanced degree (my thesis consisted of suffering through an entire episode of Judge Judy), but I was unprepared for the vigor of real-life court.

The charges were attempted strangulation, battery, and malicious destruction of property (hey, I think Maya is guilty of that last one at least 15 times a day). It felt like quite a heavy responsibility, especially with the charges being so serious. Guilty or innocent, I couldn't help but feel sorry for the accused. He looked so nervous.

Like I posted yesterday, the beginning of the trial was delayed due to a bomb threat. What we didn't find out until today was that the threat was for our court room and trial specifically! How's that for action? The courthouse is so big, I didn't even consider that it could involve our case directly.

We heard all the testimony, including from a witness whose pants were so saggy, they were literally (*literally*) belted to his upper thighs. His entire rear end--swathed in day-glo boxers--was on display. I guess I didn't mind too much; the intense heat of the orange flames painted on his shirt seared my vision until I couldn't really notice his trouser trauma.

But the witness who made the best impression was a young woman who showed up in pajama bottoms (too large and continually slipping down to show her delicate and feminine boxer shorts) and a stained tank top (also too large, also continually slipping down to show the delicate and feminine tattoos on her chest). If she owned a hairbrush, she was saving it for a special occasion. I almost laughed at the expression on the prosecuting attorney's face when he watched her walk in.

Of course, we tried to pay more attention to what the witnesses said than what they wore. They were a little hard to follow, and it's safe to say none of them will win awards for "Articulate Testimony of the Year," but we think we got a pretty good understanding of events.

In the end, we acquitted the defendant on the most serious count (the strangulation), but found him guilty of two counts of battery and the property destruction.

After the trial, I talked for a second with the prosecuting attorney. He asked how I liked jury service and wondered what I thought of the girl's jammies. I didn't get a chance to ask him if he sees a lot of witnesses dressed like that. What am I thinking? This is Caldwell--of course he does.

So, it was quite an experience. My biggest hope from this experience is that the defendant will find a way to make something positive from this experience. Oh, and that he won't make it his life's vendetta to hunt down and punish all the jurors.

Hmmmm....maybe I've been spending a little too much time studying my materials from "Grisham U."

Law and Order: Special Jury Unit

2007-08-27T19:21:00.000-06:00

So, I got picked for jury duty--the epitome of American civic responsibility. I'm such a pillar of society!

For the entire month of August, I've had to call in each evening to find out if they called my juror number for the next day, and today, I was chosen (I feel like Richard Dreyfus in "Close Encounters of the Third Kind!"). After a monotonous round of questions, ranging from the mundane to the crazy (they asked who listened to Rush Limbaugh and who was a member of the NRA!), I was placed on the jury.

But, just as the trial was ready to start, someone called in a bomb threat to the courthouse and we all had to evacuate! Our poor bailiff, an old retired cop, had to keep us all together and make sure we weren't "contaminated." He took it *very* seriously. As we all walked down the stairwell, he seemed particularly worried that someone would do something heinous, like make eye contact with one of us. It was particularly entertaining considering that the fleeing jury spanned at least a whole flight of stairs and he was huffing up and down the line, trying to protect us. It reminded me of Lassie herding sheep.

Since the trial isn't over, I can't actually comment on what happened once we were back in court (after a 2 1/2 hour wait in a coffee shop down the street from the courthouse). But rest assured, once I'm able, I'll have plenty to say! Justice is supposed to be blind, and after some of the outfits I saw on witnesses today, I wish I was, too.

Oh, one thing I can talk about--the attorneys both have celebrity look-alikes! For the prosecution, we have Jeremy Sisto (who, funnily enough, will have a role in "Law and Order" next season) and the defense is deftly represented by Mr. News himself, Ted Turner.

Here's hoping for a quick verdict tomorrow!