Sometimes my man makes me so happy. I love him so much.
I found out about a month ago that my best friend/best mission companion "Mo" (short for Sister Morrill) is getting married Labor Day Weekend. THIS IS GREAT NEWS!! And I am so happy for her. The sad news was that this is also the weekend of my first anniversary with Jeff, which trumps the wedding. One year already! I can't believe it.
I had written off going until a week or so ago, when Jeff and I both started feeling so insane from the heat here that we started toying with the idea of a Utah/Colorado/anywhere trip. This toy wasn't very fun when we saw how much it would cost. So, I wrote it off again. No big deal. It's just my best friend's wedding but no big.
Fast forward to last night when Jeff started looking at flights to Utah again. What? Why? I saw why. He had the best dates and times picked out for me to fly to Utah and be back in time for our Monday off, so we can celebrate our anniversary that day. WOW. He is the best ever! So now I get to have my cake (celebrate my 1st anniversary of ETERNITY with my beloved) and eat it too (go to Mo's wedding!). I am so ecstatic. I fell asleep smiling last night. I woke up smiling this morning. I am smiling as I write this blog post. Jeff Ward is the best husband there ever was!
As soon as Jeff had bought the ticket last night, I called Mo and told her I was coming, but she already knew!! She said Jeff e-mailed her earlier in the week and said he was doing all he could to make it possible for me to go to her wedding. Wow-wee. How special is he?! I am overjoyed.
I started my new calling as choir director today. It went well. Nothing else to report on that front.
Jeff and I teach Primary too. The Valiant 8 class. I told them my birthday was this week. Naturally, the kids wanted to know how old I'll be. I told them to guess. One boy said 38. Another girl said 30.
I need a maroon or dark green something to wear for Mo's wedding. I'm thinking of one of these with a pencil skirt I already own (though I wouldn't mind getting a new one). Tell me what you think!
Number one
Number two
Number three
-- UPDATE: Very unfortunately, this shirt is not available in my size. Phooey! It was my fave.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
A few things.
Did I tell you I got my hair cut? No, probably not, because I don't need blogging right now. I realized that the other day. I used to write and blog a lot, about many different things. Mainly about questions I had or minor moral dilemmas or noteworthy happenings. My life is not boring, per se. I am just not struggling, so I don't feel the urge to write.
Or perhaps I am more personal now. I used to write such personal things on the Internet. I don't care to share them anymore.
I would say the latter is the answer. As I analyze my current state of struggle, I realize there are a few things I'm struggling with. I do not care to share them online.
Nevertheless, I got my haircut. My boss somewhat snidely remarked that it's "edgy." "What do we call this look?" he jibed. "I think I'll call it 'edgy'," said like a pompous king who's naming the Universe. (He meant no harm by it. I am only upset he is back from his week-long absence.)
Last week I realized that I have not had a cute haircut since before my mission. I classify cute as a cut more interesting that one length/semi-layered hair that falls below the shoulders. I mean BORING. To me at least.
My new stylist Brandan, who is every bit as fabulous as Patrick (former stylist in Utah)--(and I don't mean fabulous in the homosexual way), took off six or more inches of hair. My horses' tail is reduced to a cute little sprig of heather. I like it very much. Since it's been 100 degrees or more for months and months now, my neck likes it very much too. I feel so much more like myself.
I have given up on so many hopes and dreams I've had throughout my life. Dreams of writing, being a journalist, a singer, a DJ, being in a band, directing a choir, living in New York, etc. My life has definitely not gone any of these ways. I teach music lessons and I work as an admin at an oil and gas firm. The teaching part is great--I love it--the admin part pays my bills and gives me headaches. I'm working out like I should, but I'm not eating as clean as I can and should, and I know it. So I'm guilting myself over it. I'm tired of listening to myself and all my "shoulds" and "wills". I'm just not doing them. I'm capable of many of them, but I'm not doing them. I'm lazy. It's too hard. I can make endless excuses for why I'm not. At the end of the day I'm just not.
Far cry from what I was saying a few posts ago. If you want something badly enough, you'll do it.
I will do "it", in all its many forms. Just not this week. Tomorrow will be a better day :)
Or perhaps I am more personal now. I used to write such personal things on the Internet. I don't care to share them anymore.
I would say the latter is the answer. As I analyze my current state of struggle, I realize there are a few things I'm struggling with. I do not care to share them online.
Nevertheless, I got my haircut. My boss somewhat snidely remarked that it's "edgy." "What do we call this look?" he jibed. "I think I'll call it 'edgy'," said like a pompous king who's naming the Universe. (He meant no harm by it. I am only upset he is back from his week-long absence.)
Last week I realized that I have not had a cute haircut since before my mission. I classify cute as a cut more interesting that one length/semi-layered hair that falls below the shoulders. I mean BORING. To me at least.
My new stylist Brandan, who is every bit as fabulous as Patrick (former stylist in Utah)--(and I don't mean fabulous in the homosexual way), took off six or more inches of hair. My horses' tail is reduced to a cute little sprig of heather. I like it very much. Since it's been 100 degrees or more for months and months now, my neck likes it very much too. I feel so much more like myself.
I have given up on so many hopes and dreams I've had throughout my life. Dreams of writing, being a journalist, a singer, a DJ, being in a band, directing a choir, living in New York, etc. My life has definitely not gone any of these ways. I teach music lessons and I work as an admin at an oil and gas firm. The teaching part is great--I love it--the admin part pays my bills and gives me headaches. I'm working out like I should, but I'm not eating as clean as I can and should, and I know it. So I'm guilting myself over it. I'm tired of listening to myself and all my "shoulds" and "wills". I'm just not doing them. I'm capable of many of them, but I'm not doing them. I'm lazy. It's too hard. I can make endless excuses for why I'm not. At the end of the day I'm just not.
Far cry from what I was saying a few posts ago. If you want something badly enough, you'll do it.
I will do "it", in all its many forms. Just not this week. Tomorrow will be a better day :)
Sunday, July 31, 2011
People all over the world, join hands.
Jeff and I went to Branson last week for a family reunion. Have you ever been there?
It is a throwback to the '70s. Lots of shows, Dixie Stampede, family-oriented activities, and lots more super fun things to do. We liked it well enough, especially seeing the group "Six."
Boy, that brings me back. I fell asleep in the first half and couldn't sit still for any portions I was awake. It was two hours of beat-boxing torture. Talented guys, sure, but not my cup of tea.
Another highlight of the trip was seeing real, wild foxes everywhere around our hotel/resort. Can't recall seeing one before this. I also loved the 100-degree, worse-than-Houston heat. And the crazy WOD (code for CrossFit workout of the day) that Jeff, his brother Ryan and I did. It involved three 2.5-minute rounds of running up a super steep, long hill (our car struggled to scale it, let alone our legs), then finishing the time with push-ups the first round, air squats the second round and back extensions the third round. I think I actually mixed up the push-ups/squats/back extensions, but you get the picture. We also went boating. I really loved boating. It was my first time on a boat ever, except for fishing boats. We went tubing too! Jeff and I rode together. He tried to stand up a few times and fell off. He also let me push him off one time, which was fun.
I loved spending time with Jeff's family, especially our niece and nephews. Our little nephew Paxton loves me so much! He kept saying "Eesa, Eesa!" when he would see me. And when he wouldn't. Nothing makes me feel more special than a little kid's affection. (Is that weird?)
I have pictures, but somehow I managed to have a weird look on my face in all of them. Next time, I guess.
The best part of the trip for me was definitely going to St. Louis. We spent time with Jeff's grandma, who I've decided is my surrogate Grandma Betty. She is so sweet. Does justice and more to all a grandma should be. Of course, being back in my mission stomping grounds is revitalizing enough. It was so good to see people I taught, see them strong in the gospel. I loved being a missionary!!! Again, I wish I had more pics. Jeff and I aren't picture-type people, I guess.
Jeff takes the GMAT this Thursday. Everyone say a prayer for him please!!
It is a throwback to the '70s. Lots of shows, Dixie Stampede, family-oriented activities, and lots more super fun things to do. We liked it well enough, especially seeing the group "Six."
Boy, that brings me back. I fell asleep in the first half and couldn't sit still for any portions I was awake. It was two hours of beat-boxing torture. Talented guys, sure, but not my cup of tea.
Another highlight of the trip was seeing real, wild foxes everywhere around our hotel/resort. Can't recall seeing one before this. I also loved the 100-degree, worse-than-Houston heat. And the crazy WOD (code for CrossFit workout of the day) that Jeff, his brother Ryan and I did. It involved three 2.5-minute rounds of running up a super steep, long hill (our car struggled to scale it, let alone our legs), then finishing the time with push-ups the first round, air squats the second round and back extensions the third round. I think I actually mixed up the push-ups/squats/back extensions, but you get the picture. We also went boating. I really loved boating. It was my first time on a boat ever, except for fishing boats. We went tubing too! Jeff and I rode together. He tried to stand up a few times and fell off. He also let me push him off one time, which was fun.
I loved spending time with Jeff's family, especially our niece and nephews. Our little nephew Paxton loves me so much! He kept saying "Eesa, Eesa!" when he would see me. And when he wouldn't. Nothing makes me feel more special than a little kid's affection. (Is that weird?)
I have pictures, but somehow I managed to have a weird look on my face in all of them. Next time, I guess.
The best part of the trip for me was definitely going to St. Louis. We spent time with Jeff's grandma, who I've decided is my surrogate Grandma Betty. She is so sweet. Does justice and more to all a grandma should be. Of course, being back in my mission stomping grounds is revitalizing enough. It was so good to see people I taught, see them strong in the gospel. I loved being a missionary!!! Again, I wish I had more pics. Jeff and I aren't picture-type people, I guess.
Jeff takes the GMAT this Thursday. Everyone say a prayer for him please!!
Changes
Last night, Jeff and I went with some friends to Miller Outdoor Theater. It's a huge, obviously outdoor theater here in Houston that puts on free shows for anyone who wants to come. We've seen the Houston Symphony, Chinese Acrobats, Houston Grand Opera Company, Houston Ballet Company, and countless other shows. Last night we saw Shakespeare's "Taming of the Shrew." It was a great show. Well staged, well acted, well done overall. But this isn't what I want to write about.
As we headed back to our car, we were followed by a young man and his date, who were engaged in a "deep" conversation about Shakespeare, his time period, and themes from the play. The guy apparently loved to hear himself talk, based on some of his inane comments. Such as this: "Some people argue that the British thought the Italians had a glamorous lifestyle, so that's why all of Shakespeare's plays take place in Italy." Or this gem: "The Taming of the Shrew brings up so many human elements and questions. Like, can people change? Is change possible?"
Yes, we were chuckling at him. (Can you blame us?)
Fast forward 22 hours and I'm thinking about change. How ridiculous that guy's scholarly diatribe was. But mainly how I've changed. The terms I would use to define myself today are wholly different than those I would have used five years ago. Even three years ago. Even one year ago!!!
I hear all the time, from co-workers largely, but also from what little TV I watch, that change isn't possible. "That's just the way I am," people say. Lady Gaga preaches we're "Born This Way" and Ke$ha or whoever sings that dumb song says "We are Who We Are." I don't know how anyone can believe this though, because it's not true.
We are all completely in control of who we are. Some people are dealt worse hands in life than others, but we can effect change in our lives in so many ways.
One of my former CrossFit trainers, who competed this weekend in the CrossFit Games, (and ranked in 28th place--INCREDIBLE results for anyone, let alone a first time Games competitor and for someone who's been CrossFitting for only about 18 months) once said, "If you want something bad enough, you'll do it," or something like that. In my experience, he is 100% right.
I sometimes see inconsistencies in myself, and in others, where we say we want something but put forth no effort to get it. Maybe we're lazy. Maybe we lack the know how. Or maybe we really just don't want it all that much.
I'm not going to list all the ways I've changed on here because I think I talk enough about how much I love CrossFit and eating Paleo in daily life so my blog doesn't need to hear about it too. Just know that I will never buy the excuse "I can't" because what you really mean is "I don't really want to." So own it!
At the end of the day (and the end of this rant), I truly believe we can be anything, any way, and anyone we want to be, if we want it badly enough. We can change ourselves--our bodies, our minds, our spirits--if we want it badly enough.
And don't let anyone tell you otherwise!!
As we headed back to our car, we were followed by a young man and his date, who were engaged in a "deep" conversation about Shakespeare, his time period, and themes from the play. The guy apparently loved to hear himself talk, based on some of his inane comments. Such as this: "Some people argue that the British thought the Italians had a glamorous lifestyle, so that's why all of Shakespeare's plays take place in Italy." Or this gem: "The Taming of the Shrew brings up so many human elements and questions. Like, can people change? Is change possible?"
Yes, we were chuckling at him. (Can you blame us?)
Fast forward 22 hours and I'm thinking about change. How ridiculous that guy's scholarly diatribe was. But mainly how I've changed. The terms I would use to define myself today are wholly different than those I would have used five years ago. Even three years ago. Even one year ago!!!
I hear all the time, from co-workers largely, but also from what little TV I watch, that change isn't possible. "That's just the way I am," people say. Lady Gaga preaches we're "Born This Way" and Ke$ha or whoever sings that dumb song says "We are Who We Are." I don't know how anyone can believe this though, because it's not true.
We are all completely in control of who we are. Some people are dealt worse hands in life than others, but we can effect change in our lives in so many ways.
One of my former CrossFit trainers, who competed this weekend in the CrossFit Games, (and ranked in 28th place--INCREDIBLE results for anyone, let alone a first time Games competitor and for someone who's been CrossFitting for only about 18 months) once said, "If you want something bad enough, you'll do it," or something like that. In my experience, he is 100% right.
I sometimes see inconsistencies in myself, and in others, where we say we want something but put forth no effort to get it. Maybe we're lazy. Maybe we lack the know how. Or maybe we really just don't want it all that much.
I'm not going to list all the ways I've changed on here because I think I talk enough about how much I love CrossFit and eating Paleo in daily life so my blog doesn't need to hear about it too. Just know that I will never buy the excuse "I can't" because what you really mean is "I don't really want to." So own it!
At the end of the day (and the end of this rant), I truly believe we can be anything, any way, and anyone we want to be, if we want it badly enough. We can change ourselves--our bodies, our minds, our spirits--if we want it badly enough.
And don't let anyone tell you otherwise!!
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Just do your best.
I can't believe this blog goes back to 2003. That's the year I graduated high school.
As I sit here, bored to high heaven here at work, I'm reading a few entries from August of that year, right before I left for BYU. It's so funny to read those, how I wrote back then, how I thought and what I thought about. I fought with my parents a lot then. Every entry mentions it!
So much of my life, I've felt like I don't fit in. This was largely true in high school, and true in college to an extent. I realize now that I'm older, that feeling has gone away. I guess because I don't care what people think of me anymore. Or maybe because I love myself the way I am. I know I have things to work on, but overall, I'm confident, maybe too confident, in who I am.
I've been thinking the past few days, why do people try to fit themselves into things they are not? Myself included in this question.
At the beginning of the year, I took a Kolbe test, which is designed to sum up how my brain functions. Mainly, how I accomplish tasks, how I like to work, how I work best, etc. I took a test analyzing myself, and one that analyzed my perception of my job and the type of work I do here.
Check out my results.
Exhibit A: The results for my brain.
Exhibit B: The results for what I perceive my job requires of me.
Interesting.
Tuesday I had a lengthy phone call with a guy from the Kolbe test company, who broke down for me a few things.
1. If my job isn't already creating high stress for me in my life, it will very soon, and I will neither excel at it nor will I be able to stick with it. Why? Because we are fundamentally wrong for each other.
This isn't news to me. Though the work I do is easy, it is BORING. It doesn't challenge me in any way, I rarely have deadlines, and there is only ONE WAY to complete most of the tasks I'm supposed to.
Counter this with how I like to work: with deadlines, freedom to invent my own way of doing things, loose guidelines, etc.
2. I should find a new job. Well, duh!
3. He recommended I implement a few work habits to maximize my efficiency. For example, find ways to increase risk in my job. Work on a project only until I start getting tired of it; then move onto something else. Don't plan, just improvise. Don't commit to too much, because committing to things will bring you stress. (This is true. Committing to go visiting teaching tonight is giving me anxiety! Not because of the teaching, but because of the commitment!)
4. He said that my whole life, people have probably been trying to break me of my current work habits, unsuccessfully. This is true. So he encouraged me to embrace them. (Take that, Mom and Dad!)
5. He was AMAZED that I can play the piano and sing and have taught myself to play various instruments over the years. He said normally someone with my Kolbe profile would be incapable of doing something like this, unless motivations to do so were very high. I would argue that my motivation to not be punished was high ;). I'm teasing. Music was ALL I wanted to do as a kid.
Overall, he was amazed that I've lasted in this job since August, and is wondering how much longer I'll last (me too). I keep this job out of necessity, because I need a job, I don't want to teach music full time, and I don't view it as a career path. I would teach music lessons as a career LONG before I ever stay an admin. Ugh. Even my job title makes me cringe.
Sometimes we fit ourselves where we don't belong because we feel like we have to. Most of time, our reason is probably not as good, or at least not as stupid. But we do it anyway.
Good news as of late: We have a family reunion in Branson, MO later in July. And then we are going to St. Louis for a few days to see BB's grandma and stomp my old grounds. I need a new swimsuit for Branson. Which do you like better?
Number one:
or number two?
As I sit here, bored to high heaven here at work, I'm reading a few entries from August of that year, right before I left for BYU. It's so funny to read those, how I wrote back then, how I thought and what I thought about. I fought with my parents a lot then. Every entry mentions it!
So much of my life, I've felt like I don't fit in. This was largely true in high school, and true in college to an extent. I realize now that I'm older, that feeling has gone away. I guess because I don't care what people think of me anymore. Or maybe because I love myself the way I am. I know I have things to work on, but overall, I'm confident, maybe too confident, in who I am.
I've been thinking the past few days, why do people try to fit themselves into things they are not? Myself included in this question.
At the beginning of the year, I took a Kolbe test, which is designed to sum up how my brain functions. Mainly, how I accomplish tasks, how I like to work, how I work best, etc. I took a test analyzing myself, and one that analyzed my perception of my job and the type of work I do here.
Check out my results.
Exhibit A: The results for my brain.
Exhibit B: The results for what I perceive my job requires of me.
Interesting.
Tuesday I had a lengthy phone call with a guy from the Kolbe test company, who broke down for me a few things.
1. If my job isn't already creating high stress for me in my life, it will very soon, and I will neither excel at it nor will I be able to stick with it. Why? Because we are fundamentally wrong for each other.
This isn't news to me. Though the work I do is easy, it is BORING. It doesn't challenge me in any way, I rarely have deadlines, and there is only ONE WAY to complete most of the tasks I'm supposed to.
Counter this with how I like to work: with deadlines, freedom to invent my own way of doing things, loose guidelines, etc.
2. I should find a new job. Well, duh!
3. He recommended I implement a few work habits to maximize my efficiency. For example, find ways to increase risk in my job. Work on a project only until I start getting tired of it; then move onto something else. Don't plan, just improvise. Don't commit to too much, because committing to things will bring you stress. (This is true. Committing to go visiting teaching tonight is giving me anxiety! Not because of the teaching, but because of the commitment!)
4. He said that my whole life, people have probably been trying to break me of my current work habits, unsuccessfully. This is true. So he encouraged me to embrace them. (Take that, Mom and Dad!)
5. He was AMAZED that I can play the piano and sing and have taught myself to play various instruments over the years. He said normally someone with my Kolbe profile would be incapable of doing something like this, unless motivations to do so were very high. I would argue that my motivation to not be punished was high ;). I'm teasing. Music was ALL I wanted to do as a kid.
Overall, he was amazed that I've lasted in this job since August, and is wondering how much longer I'll last (me too). I keep this job out of necessity, because I need a job, I don't want to teach music full time, and I don't view it as a career path. I would teach music lessons as a career LONG before I ever stay an admin. Ugh. Even my job title makes me cringe.
Sometimes we fit ourselves where we don't belong because we feel like we have to. Most of time, our reason is probably not as good, or at least not as stupid. But we do it anyway.
Good news as of late: We have a family reunion in Branson, MO later in July. And then we are going to St. Louis for a few days to see BB's grandma and stomp my old grounds. I need a new swimsuit for Branson. Which do you like better?
Number one:
or number two?
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Just say no to drugs
Until two months ago, this was my drug of choice.
Or this.
Or definitely this.
Or this.
Or, because I was trying to hide my drug habit from BouBou, I would drink the 20-oz., 50-cent bottles of crack my grocery store of choice (yeah HEB) tries to pass off as diet soda.
Friday night, BB and I went to our favorite TexMex joint so I could order the same thing I always do, fish tacos. We love this eatery not only for their food, but also because they are the only restaurant we know of, other than the heavenly Chick Fil-A, that serves Coke Zero (choice of crack #1).
When Juan came to get our drink order, I swiftly ordered water with lime. But BouBou lingered. He gave me that look, the sideways one where one of his dimples begs me ever so slightly to give in, to let him enjoy the magnificent bubbles and pseudo guilt-free ecstasy. I gave him the answer I always give when he's going to do something he shouldn't do: "It's your choice." He chose to order the Coke Zero.
In the ultimate test of self-mastery, I took three sips. They each burned down the hatch, like I imagine drinking Drano would feel like. (Did your mom ever tell you drinking Drano would burn up your insides? Mine did. Crazy imagery).
Former roommates will attest to my junkie-like dependence on caramel-colored diet soda. I kept a mini fridge in my room sophomore year, stocked with Diet Coke, so I didn't have to go to the kitchen each time I wanted a Coke. I would drink four cans a day, and maybe even a 44-oz. if I had to stay late at school. When I worked at the Daily Universe, my habit was just as bad. My day didn't start right without a Coke. I am embarrassed to say, that though I was Diet Coke-free for the first few months of my mission, by the time I got to Waterloo, IL, Wal-Mart's prices were too good to resist. My habit was back.
I've started and stopped multiple times since moving to Houston, mostly started again. To no avail. The habit has always returned. "Soda is so refreshing," I would think. "It's so hot. Water won't make me feel better," I would reason. But no more.
What makes this time different?
It was those three, miraculous sips that changed who I am forever. My date with diet soda is over. You see, I am soda free, and I will always be.
Or this.
Or definitely this.
Or this.
Or, because I was trying to hide my drug habit from BouBou, I would drink the 20-oz., 50-cent bottles of crack my grocery store of choice (yeah HEB) tries to pass off as diet soda.
Friday night, BB and I went to our favorite TexMex joint so I could order the same thing I always do, fish tacos. We love this eatery not only for their food, but also because they are the only restaurant we know of, other than the heavenly Chick Fil-A, that serves Coke Zero (choice of crack #1).
When Juan came to get our drink order, I swiftly ordered water with lime. But BouBou lingered. He gave me that look, the sideways one where one of his dimples begs me ever so slightly to give in, to let him enjoy the magnificent bubbles and pseudo guilt-free ecstasy. I gave him the answer I always give when he's going to do something he shouldn't do: "It's your choice." He chose to order the Coke Zero.
In the ultimate test of self-mastery, I took three sips. They each burned down the hatch, like I imagine drinking Drano would feel like. (Did your mom ever tell you drinking Drano would burn up your insides? Mine did. Crazy imagery).
Former roommates will attest to my junkie-like dependence on caramel-colored diet soda. I kept a mini fridge in my room sophomore year, stocked with Diet Coke, so I didn't have to go to the kitchen each time I wanted a Coke. I would drink four cans a day, and maybe even a 44-oz. if I had to stay late at school. When I worked at the Daily Universe, my habit was just as bad. My day didn't start right without a Coke. I am embarrassed to say, that though I was Diet Coke-free for the first few months of my mission, by the time I got to Waterloo, IL, Wal-Mart's prices were too good to resist. My habit was back.
I've started and stopped multiple times since moving to Houston, mostly started again. To no avail. The habit has always returned. "Soda is so refreshing," I would think. "It's so hot. Water won't make me feel better," I would reason. But no more.
What makes this time different?
It was those three, miraculous sips that changed who I am forever. My date with diet soda is over. You see, I am soda free, and I will always be.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
BouBou the Birthday Boy
He came home from work less than thrilled.
BouBou was so lucky to teach the same class of students two years in a row. Teach For America may not have delivered on much, but it delivered on the kids. They were the sweetest group of students a teacher could imagine.
BouBou started teaching a new crop last week at the start of summer school, and so far, they are troublesome.
So somebody came home a very grumpy boy. And that's not okay for my BB.
Even though the evening started rough, it ended well, as evidenced by this picture.
I cooked a london broil for dinner--a little too done, but when do I not overcook my meats--and my signature green beans and almonds. Then we went to Costco to buy spinach and salsa, because those are a breakfast food group chez Ward. We closed out our night with the most divine brownie known to mankind, sold only at Barnaby's Cafe in Houston. Wowee. This is a 6" x 6" square of cocoa-infused splendor, topped with homemade vanilla bean ice cream. Party time in my mouth for sure.
He made off with some pretty good gifts. A bunch of shirts, because he (gasp!) wears a small now.
The game "In A Pickle", which neither of us have ever played, but it looked cool.
Converse hi-tops, because every deadlifting Crossfit fool's gotta wear them hi-tops.
A headlamp, both because he wanted one and I have been on an emergency preparedness overload lately.
And the big winner of the night: two tickets to see Jerry Seinfeld's comedy show here in Houston. Yeah, so I went a little overboard this year, but half of this stuff we would have bought anyway. I love you! Mega yay for BB's Birthday!!! Let's do it again!
BouBou was so lucky to teach the same class of students two years in a row. Teach For America may not have delivered on much, but it delivered on the kids. They were the sweetest group of students a teacher could imagine.
BouBou started teaching a new crop last week at the start of summer school, and so far, they are troublesome.
So somebody came home a very grumpy boy. And that's not okay for my BB.
Even though the evening started rough, it ended well, as evidenced by this picture.
I cooked a london broil for dinner--a little too done, but when do I not overcook my meats--and my signature green beans and almonds. Then we went to Costco to buy spinach and salsa, because those are a breakfast food group chez Ward. We closed out our night with the most divine brownie known to mankind, sold only at Barnaby's Cafe in Houston. Wowee. This is a 6" x 6" square of cocoa-infused splendor, topped with homemade vanilla bean ice cream. Party time in my mouth for sure.
He made off with some pretty good gifts. A bunch of shirts, because he (gasp!) wears a small now.
The game "In A Pickle", which neither of us have ever played, but it looked cool.
Converse hi-tops, because every deadlifting Crossfit fool's gotta wear them hi-tops.
A headlamp, both because he wanted one and I have been on an emergency preparedness overload lately.
And the big winner of the night: two tickets to see Jerry Seinfeld's comedy show here in Houston. Yeah, so I went a little overboard this year, but half of this stuff we would have bought anyway. I love you! Mega yay for BB's Birthday!!! Let's do it again!
Monday, June 13, 2011
Tuesday, June 07, 2011
Thursday, June 02, 2011
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Long time comin'
You may have noticed this fancy button that popped up on the right-hand side of my blog around May 1. Maybe you didn't because I haven't posted since then, so you probably haven't been to my blog. Either way, please notice the fancy button on the right hand side of my blog. That one that says: "I'm doing the Whole30" or something like that.
It's on there because BouBou and I are DONE with a clean-eating challenge called, you guessed it, The Whole30. For 30 days, starting May 1, we ate 100% clean. That means no added sugar, no grains, no dairy, no legumes, no soy, no nightshades, for 30 days.
I was skeptical at first. But, my weight had plateaued (I was still getting smaller, but just swapped fat for muscle), we got back from our Easter jaunt feeling like fatties, and we knew it was time to get back to the basics of clean eating.
In the past months, I've lost nine pounds, and I'm two sizes smaller than I was at the beginning. In January, when I started Crossfit and The Zone, I was a snug size 12 and had been for years. Sometimes a 14. Now I'm a tight and toned 10, and at some stores I'm wearing an 8. I still can't believe it. I've never been an 8, and I haven't been a 10 since I think 8th grade or freshman year of high school. My ultimate goal is a 6. Why 6? I don't know. It sounds good. None of my clothes fit anymore. My dresses hang like drapes off of me, I constantly tug at my pants (luckily I scored a pair of bearable pants at Old Navy for $9 a few weeks back. They were tight when I got them. Now they are loose), my shirts sag, and even my undies are having a hard time staying put. I am a new woman. What's more, BouBou is a new man. We loved the Whole30 challenge, and I highly recommend it.
Last night ended our challenge, so to celebrate our hard work, we ate some BlueBell ice cream and cupcakes from Crave. WORST DECISION EVER. I will treat myself from now on by NOT eating those things. Both of us have such horrible sugar hangovers today. I have learned my lesson that sugar is a drug I do not want in my body.
I love the Paleo diet. I feel healthy, strong, my body is morphing into this lean and toned machine in a matter of weeks, and I am vibrant, full of life. My acne is totally gone. I can complete physical tasks I never could before. I'm faster and stronger at CrossFit. This diet is helping me reach goals I've literally had since junior high, but have never had the knowledge, tools, or discipline to obtain. Truly it has been an answer to lifelong prayer.
Section 89 of the Doctrine and Covenants clearly states that grains are to be "the staff of life," and a few people have asked me how I can justify eating Paleo. A less than common definition of "staff" is "something that serves as a staple or support." The Word of Wisdom outlines daily living and nutrition that will also keep us free from disease, give us energy, and bless us with the assurance of keeping divine commandments. Most Americans consume dirty grains, the kind that are bleached, processed and milled to death until they become blood-spiking toxins that give no nutritional benefit and will leave eaters craving more. The kind of grains I believe are "the staff of life" are clean, untouched and quality. When I have reached my fat loss goals, I plan on incorporating these staples back into my diet.
I just finished reading thist book, which is EXCELLENT by the way, and no we are not expecting. Now I really want to read this book. I am so fascinated by this topic of nutrition and optimal physical performance right now.
As I've commented to my one true love Jeff/BouBou, my entire life I've felt physically inadequate and incapable of athleticism and finesse. Because of CrossFit and clean eating, I've discovered the remarkable creation my body is, and how much more spiritually alive I feel when I'm taking care of my personal temple.
I never thought I could feel such a strong testimony of this topic, but I do!
Mom, Dad and Robert came into town this weekend to drive the Rat back to Utah. Did I mention Jeff and I got a new car back in March? A Ford Fiesta hatchback. I absolutely love it and I'm so glad to drive a car from this decade (the Rat is a 2000 model; so is my old Echo). I wish I had pictures of them being here this weekend, because we had a great time!! They flew in Friday. Dad and Robert left Saturday for Utah, and Mom and I drove up to Tyler to be with Becky and the kids for the weekend. It was fun. I love playing with my sweet nephew Trevor and I wish I could take him home with me. He is a love.
I drove back Sunday night so Jeff and I could hit the beach yesterday with our friends, the Brabazons, who are stealing their sweet daughters away from us to move to Washington state. I am used to beaches like this:
or this:
But what we got was this:
50 feet of washed-up seaweed, no open sand. I've never been so disappointed in my life. The highlight of the day was when BouBou got up on a surfboard and rode it in probably 40 feet. That was pretty cool. Otherwise, I will not be wasting my time with Texas beaches anymore. It's going to take lots of scrubbing to get the sea salt off the Fiesta too.
Houston just keeps giving and giving!
It's on there because BouBou and I are DONE with a clean-eating challenge called, you guessed it, The Whole30. For 30 days, starting May 1, we ate 100% clean. That means no added sugar, no grains, no dairy, no legumes, no soy, no nightshades, for 30 days.
I was skeptical at first. But, my weight had plateaued (I was still getting smaller, but just swapped fat for muscle), we got back from our Easter jaunt feeling like fatties, and we knew it was time to get back to the basics of clean eating.
In the past months, I've lost nine pounds, and I'm two sizes smaller than I was at the beginning. In January, when I started Crossfit and The Zone, I was a snug size 12 and had been for years. Sometimes a 14. Now I'm a tight and toned 10, and at some stores I'm wearing an 8. I still can't believe it. I've never been an 8, and I haven't been a 10 since I think 8th grade or freshman year of high school. My ultimate goal is a 6. Why 6? I don't know. It sounds good. None of my clothes fit anymore. My dresses hang like drapes off of me, I constantly tug at my pants (luckily I scored a pair of bearable pants at Old Navy for $9 a few weeks back. They were tight when I got them. Now they are loose), my shirts sag, and even my undies are having a hard time staying put. I am a new woman. What's more, BouBou is a new man. We loved the Whole30 challenge, and I highly recommend it.
Last night ended our challenge, so to celebrate our hard work, we ate some BlueBell ice cream and cupcakes from Crave. WORST DECISION EVER. I will treat myself from now on by NOT eating those things. Both of us have such horrible sugar hangovers today. I have learned my lesson that sugar is a drug I do not want in my body.
I love the Paleo diet. I feel healthy, strong, my body is morphing into this lean and toned machine in a matter of weeks, and I am vibrant, full of life. My acne is totally gone. I can complete physical tasks I never could before. I'm faster and stronger at CrossFit. This diet is helping me reach goals I've literally had since junior high, but have never had the knowledge, tools, or discipline to obtain. Truly it has been an answer to lifelong prayer.
Section 89 of the Doctrine and Covenants clearly states that grains are to be "the staff of life," and a few people have asked me how I can justify eating Paleo. A less than common definition of "staff" is "something that serves as a staple or support." The Word of Wisdom outlines daily living and nutrition that will also keep us free from disease, give us energy, and bless us with the assurance of keeping divine commandments. Most Americans consume dirty grains, the kind that are bleached, processed and milled to death until they become blood-spiking toxins that give no nutritional benefit and will leave eaters craving more. The kind of grains I believe are "the staff of life" are clean, untouched and quality. When I have reached my fat loss goals, I plan on incorporating these staples back into my diet.
I just finished reading thist book, which is EXCELLENT by the way, and no we are not expecting. Now I really want to read this book. I am so fascinated by this topic of nutrition and optimal physical performance right now.
As I've commented to my one true love Jeff/BouBou, my entire life I've felt physically inadequate and incapable of athleticism and finesse. Because of CrossFit and clean eating, I've discovered the remarkable creation my body is, and how much more spiritually alive I feel when I'm taking care of my personal temple.
I never thought I could feel such a strong testimony of this topic, but I do!
Mom, Dad and Robert came into town this weekend to drive the Rat back to Utah. Did I mention Jeff and I got a new car back in March? A Ford Fiesta hatchback. I absolutely love it and I'm so glad to drive a car from this decade (the Rat is a 2000 model; so is my old Echo). I wish I had pictures of them being here this weekend, because we had a great time!! They flew in Friday. Dad and Robert left Saturday for Utah, and Mom and I drove up to Tyler to be with Becky and the kids for the weekend. It was fun. I love playing with my sweet nephew Trevor and I wish I could take him home with me. He is a love.
I drove back Sunday night so Jeff and I could hit the beach yesterday with our friends, the Brabazons, who are stealing their sweet daughters away from us to move to Washington state. I am used to beaches like this:
or this:
But what we got was this:
50 feet of washed-up seaweed, no open sand. I've never been so disappointed in my life. The highlight of the day was when BouBou got up on a surfboard and rode it in probably 40 feet. That was pretty cool. Otherwise, I will not be wasting my time with Texas beaches anymore. It's going to take lots of scrubbing to get the sea salt off the Fiesta too.
Houston just keeps giving and giving!
Monday, April 25, 2011
Back in the saddle
As I've posted before, Bou Bou and I follow a diet called "Paleo," which in a nutshell means we eat anything that was around 20,000 years ago and not much more. No grains, no dairy, NO SUGAR. We've never felt better. Sometimes we blur the lines a little by treating ourselves to a milkshake or Chick Fil-A, but we don't tow the line too much, especially when it comes to eating sugar. (This is the best article I've seen recently on the nasty effects of sugar on the body).
Until this weekend. We drove up to Tyler, TX to see my sister and her family, who arrived there Thursday for the summer sales season. We got there Friday night, already having eaten. My sister texted on our way up, asking if we'd join them for dessert that night. Sure, we thought. Why not. We went to an amazing frozen custard place and shared a concrete. Not too bad. More sugar than I'm used to at this point, but not so overwhelming I felt sick.
Ravenous the next morning, I woke up to a pantry and fridge full of grains and sugar-laden food. Powdered donuts, baked chips, bread, bagels, candy, cookies, you name it. Then light yogurt (aspartame has similar effects on insulin level that sugar does, so it's still bad), Crystal Light, diet soda, hot dogs (mechanically separated chicken, pork and beef in one saturated fat laden cylinder), cheese, cream cheese in the fridge. Eggos, ice cream and chicken nuggets in the freezer, plus a tub of pre-cooked brisket slathered in sugary BBQ sauce for Easter dinner. The only thing edible in the entire fridge were the eggs. You're probably thinking, "But this is what's in my fridge too!" And it used to be in my fridge too (except for the hot dogs).
Let me cut to the chase. After a weekend of eating the processed, pre-cooked, heat from frozen junk most Americans call food, Jeff and I were physically ill. The 4-hr drive back to Houston last night was absolutely miserable. I felt fatigued, nauseated, we had headaches, we were close to vomiting, we wanted to die.
There's real food and then there's fake food. Real food is found on the perimeter of the grocery store. It either used to eat something or came from something that used to eat something (eggs), or it grew in the ground. It has no additives, nothing bromenated, no partially hydrogenated oils, no trans fats. It definitely has NO CORN SYRUP AND NO SUGAR.
Jeff and I eat small portions of meat or eggs at each meal. Coupled with that are fresh vegetables. We eat one serving of fruit with breakfast usually. We add a few nuts and seeds or good oils to each meal. Upon finding out what we eat, a few people have commented to me, "Wow, your food bill must be insane buying all that meat and fresh produce." But it's not. I buy meat on sale. I buy in-season produce. Once I splurged and bought grass-fed ground beef (I plan on doing this more--the nutritional benefits are worth the price). I do mostly buy no hormone/steroid/organic chicken, but I'd rather buy full free range (not the pasturized free range imposter though!) There are ways to eat healthy and stay in budget.
My moral: If you often feel tired and achy, lack energy, crave sweets, if your energy levels crash, you can't lose weight/you gain weight, nothing cures your acne, (and the list goes on and on), you probably need to remove some foods from your diet. Going Paleo is the best thing Jeff and I have done for our bodies EVER. Jeff is at a weight he hasn't been at since junior high, I believe. I'm at a weight I last saw freshman year of high school. We are also lean! Jeff is so close to his goal of a six pack, and my hip rolls are finally small bumps instead of giant hills. Give it a try for one week and feel the difference! I promise you will not be let down!
Until this weekend. We drove up to Tyler, TX to see my sister and her family, who arrived there Thursday for the summer sales season. We got there Friday night, already having eaten. My sister texted on our way up, asking if we'd join them for dessert that night. Sure, we thought. Why not. We went to an amazing frozen custard place and shared a concrete. Not too bad. More sugar than I'm used to at this point, but not so overwhelming I felt sick.
Ravenous the next morning, I woke up to a pantry and fridge full of grains and sugar-laden food. Powdered donuts, baked chips, bread, bagels, candy, cookies, you name it. Then light yogurt (aspartame has similar effects on insulin level that sugar does, so it's still bad), Crystal Light, diet soda, hot dogs (mechanically separated chicken, pork and beef in one saturated fat laden cylinder), cheese, cream cheese in the fridge. Eggos, ice cream and chicken nuggets in the freezer, plus a tub of pre-cooked brisket slathered in sugary BBQ sauce for Easter dinner. The only thing edible in the entire fridge were the eggs. You're probably thinking, "But this is what's in my fridge too!" And it used to be in my fridge too (except for the hot dogs).
Let me cut to the chase. After a weekend of eating the processed, pre-cooked, heat from frozen junk most Americans call food, Jeff and I were physically ill. The 4-hr drive back to Houston last night was absolutely miserable. I felt fatigued, nauseated, we had headaches, we were close to vomiting, we wanted to die.
There's real food and then there's fake food. Real food is found on the perimeter of the grocery store. It either used to eat something or came from something that used to eat something (eggs), or it grew in the ground. It has no additives, nothing bromenated, no partially hydrogenated oils, no trans fats. It definitely has NO CORN SYRUP AND NO SUGAR.
Jeff and I eat small portions of meat or eggs at each meal. Coupled with that are fresh vegetables. We eat one serving of fruit with breakfast usually. We add a few nuts and seeds or good oils to each meal. Upon finding out what we eat, a few people have commented to me, "Wow, your food bill must be insane buying all that meat and fresh produce." But it's not. I buy meat on sale. I buy in-season produce. Once I splurged and bought grass-fed ground beef (I plan on doing this more--the nutritional benefits are worth the price). I do mostly buy no hormone/steroid/organic chicken, but I'd rather buy full free range (not the pasturized free range imposter though!) There are ways to eat healthy and stay in budget.
My moral: If you often feel tired and achy, lack energy, crave sweets, if your energy levels crash, you can't lose weight/you gain weight, nothing cures your acne, (and the list goes on and on), you probably need to remove some foods from your diet. Going Paleo is the best thing Jeff and I have done for our bodies EVER. Jeff is at a weight he hasn't been at since junior high, I believe. I'm at a weight I last saw freshman year of high school. We are also lean! Jeff is so close to his goal of a six pack, and my hip rolls are finally small bumps instead of giant hills. Give it a try for one week and feel the difference! I promise you will not be let down!
Friday, April 01, 2011
Rumbly in the tumbly
Health insurance. A heated topic among many Americans. After my experience yesterday, I have some clue why.
My most "generous" employer (I should add "selectively") provides me health and dental insurance with no detriment to my wage. How nice! I do not have vision coverage, which for my four eyes, means I fork over a few hundred dollars a year in optometry visits and new contact lenses. I haven't had new glasses frames for probably five years; no new lenses for three. My glasses see my face for an hour before bed, if they're lucky, so I'm not as concerned with these, but I do need them.
Since being back from Costa Rica, I've suffered from "bowel issues." (They say the water is safe to drink there!!) Jeff hasn't developed any troubles, so I'm not sure what I ate or drank that spawned this fun. He thought I should see a doctor as soon as we returned to the States. I would have, but I'd never used my health insurance, so I was wary of the cost of seeing a doctor, especially since we spent a wad in CR.
Finally, yesterday, after 2.5 weeks of unpredictable intestinal fistfights, I decided it was time to pay The Man and get some antibiotics. I had no clue what my co-pay was, or even if I had a co-pay. I saw a PA for 15 minutes, long enough for her to diagnose me with what I'd diagnosed myself with, thanks to mayoclinic, and send in a scrip for some bug killers, and send me back up to reception to pay.
My heart raced. How much will this visit be? $25? $50? $100? No. It couldn't be over $100, I thought.
I was shocked when I was charged $117.34. All out of pocket. Insurance paid nothing.
This is how the real world is? This is why the little man wants Obamacare? This is why so many other countries have socialized medicine? This is why I want to find a new job? This is why insurance companies are evil? This is why I will procrastinate seeing a doctor, even in a matter of life or death? Because the partners at the company I work for make hundreds of thousands of dollars each per year, and I make about 4.6 percent of what they make? What if BouBou and I accidentally get pregnant? Literally, we couldn't afford our baby!!!!
It makes me sick. Many of you are probably worse off. I feel cheated. I don't think I'm alone in this either!!!
My most "generous" employer (I should add "selectively") provides me health and dental insurance with no detriment to my wage. How nice! I do not have vision coverage, which for my four eyes, means I fork over a few hundred dollars a year in optometry visits and new contact lenses. I haven't had new glasses frames for probably five years; no new lenses for three. My glasses see my face for an hour before bed, if they're lucky, so I'm not as concerned with these, but I do need them.
Since being back from Costa Rica, I've suffered from "bowel issues." (They say the water is safe to drink there!!) Jeff hasn't developed any troubles, so I'm not sure what I ate or drank that spawned this fun. He thought I should see a doctor as soon as we returned to the States. I would have, but I'd never used my health insurance, so I was wary of the cost of seeing a doctor, especially since we spent a wad in CR.
Finally, yesterday, after 2.5 weeks of unpredictable intestinal fistfights, I decided it was time to pay The Man and get some antibiotics. I had no clue what my co-pay was, or even if I had a co-pay. I saw a PA for 15 minutes, long enough for her to diagnose me with what I'd diagnosed myself with, thanks to mayoclinic, and send in a scrip for some bug killers, and send me back up to reception to pay.
My heart raced. How much will this visit be? $25? $50? $100? No. It couldn't be over $100, I thought.
I was shocked when I was charged $117.34. All out of pocket. Insurance paid nothing.
This is how the real world is? This is why the little man wants Obamacare? This is why so many other countries have socialized medicine? This is why I want to find a new job? This is why insurance companies are evil? This is why I will procrastinate seeing a doctor, even in a matter of life or death? Because the partners at the company I work for make hundreds of thousands of dollars each per year, and I make about 4.6 percent of what they make? What if BouBou and I accidentally get pregnant? Literally, we couldn't afford our baby!!!!
It makes me sick. Many of you are probably worse off. I feel cheated. I don't think I'm alone in this either!!!
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Everything happens to me.
Why is it that every time one is preparing to leave on a trip, the world collides?! This has been one crazy week.
Tuesday night I had a work dinner to attend. At 6 pm, I went out to my car (I was luckily already at home) and tried to turn it on. No go. Tried it again. No go. Lights were going on normally, the engine just wouldn't turn over. I knew it wasn't the starter--our mobile mechanic, Big John, installed a new one in your fall (Houston's endless summer). The Saturn did this once before because of corrosion on the battery cables. I ruined a perfectly good boar bristle hairbrush dusting off the battery system, and still, no go. By this point I knew the car wasn't going to start through anything I did to coerce it, so naturally, I said a prayer. Suddenly my kind French neighbor, who also loves working on cars, appeared out of thin air, and asked me to start it again, which I did. No sooner had a turned the key that he started yelling in his accent so thick you think he's still speaking French, "SMOKE!!!! FIRE!!!!!" Smoke was billowing out from under the hood of the Saturn aka the Rat, on some wires right behind the engine block. He ran upstairs to grab water from his apartment while I uselessly tried blowing out the flame (it wasn't a birthday candle; I probably made it worse; what was I thinking?!)
Jeff and I have been wanting to bag the Rat since we married. That thing is 11 years old! It''s seen me through thick and thin and got me moved to Texas in one piece, not to mention the thousands of miles my sister and her husband put on it in the six years they had it. Yes, it was time to purchasae.
We've been saving a healthy down payment, waiting for the right time, or until the Rat finally succumbed to the poison that is Saturns. In preparation we test drove a few small cars, but the one that stood out was the Ford Fiesta. It used to be in the States, then it was only in Europe the past decade or so, and Ford just brought it back this year. It is a NEAT little car. Gets excellent mileage, cool features inside (I can stream music via Bluetooth from my iPhone and of course have a hands-free system built in to the car). I am really digging it. I was surprised to see that it is a highly rated little vehicle, and even beats out the Honda Fit! I've never been into Fords, but so far, so good!
So after the car got rocked this week, Friday morning rolled around. Jeff and I got up for Crossfit at 4:25, like we always do MWF, and trekked the 15 minutes drive to CrossFitWestHouston (CFWH). Unfortunately our instructor had an alarm malfunction!! Happens to the best of us, but I was REALLY looking forward to the WOD.
Came home and turned on NPR only to hear that Sendai, Japan, where my brother Michael is serving an LDS mission, was bludgeoned by an 8.9-magnitude earthquake and a tsunami that's obliterated the entire coastal region of Sendai. It was a LOOOONNNNGGGGGG day of waiting, patiently waiting, scouring news web sites, searching for reports of how many dead, where was hit worst. We heard bits and pieces throughout the day, but it wasn't until 11:45 pm or so that an Area Authority of the LDS church in Sendai called my parents, saying he had spoken to Michael personally and knew he was well. OH MY GOODNESS!!!! I would say this is the biggest personal scare I've ever had in my life. Michael means the world to me as far as siblings go. He and I have always really understood each other, without having to say much to get there, and I would miss him so badly.
At the same time, I have a knowledge that I would see MIchael again should he have been fatally wounded in this crisis. Through the Plan of Salvation (or Plan of Happiness), I know why I am here on earth, where I go after, and what happens next. I know it because I feel this strong feeling in my heart every time I study it, or read about it in the Book of Mormon and the Bible, or read the words of the prophet Thomas S. Monson. That feeling is the Holy Spirit of God, or the Holy Ghost, confirming truth for me. It is the best feeling (see verses 22-23) in the world, not only to feel the Holy Ghost confirm truth, but also to know our Heavenly Father loves us enough to teach us these truths Himself, through the Holy Ghost.
Now that Michael is well, I'm realizing just how many people in Sendai are not so lucky. The photos are awful. I don't know how you'd even begin to clean up the mess that tsunami left. There will be much work to do.
In 5.5 hours, Jeff and I will be on a plane to Costa Rica!! I am so grateful to know MIchael is okay, BEFORE we leave.
Life is good!!! Pura vida!!
Tuesday night I had a work dinner to attend. At 6 pm, I went out to my car (I was luckily already at home) and tried to turn it on. No go. Tried it again. No go. Lights were going on normally, the engine just wouldn't turn over. I knew it wasn't the starter--our mobile mechanic, Big John, installed a new one in your fall (Houston's endless summer). The Saturn did this once before because of corrosion on the battery cables. I ruined a perfectly good boar bristle hairbrush dusting off the battery system, and still, no go. By this point I knew the car wasn't going to start through anything I did to coerce it, so naturally, I said a prayer. Suddenly my kind French neighbor, who also loves working on cars, appeared out of thin air, and asked me to start it again, which I did. No sooner had a turned the key that he started yelling in his accent so thick you think he's still speaking French, "SMOKE!!!! FIRE!!!!!" Smoke was billowing out from under the hood of the Saturn aka the Rat, on some wires right behind the engine block. He ran upstairs to grab water from his apartment while I uselessly tried blowing out the flame (it wasn't a birthday candle; I probably made it worse; what was I thinking?!)
Jeff and I have been wanting to bag the Rat since we married. That thing is 11 years old! It''s seen me through thick and thin and got me moved to Texas in one piece, not to mention the thousands of miles my sister and her husband put on it in the six years they had it. Yes, it was time to purchasae.
We've been saving a healthy down payment, waiting for the right time, or until the Rat finally succumbed to the poison that is Saturns. In preparation we test drove a few small cars, but the one that stood out was the Ford Fiesta. It used to be in the States, then it was only in Europe the past decade or so, and Ford just brought it back this year. It is a NEAT little car. Gets excellent mileage, cool features inside (I can stream music via Bluetooth from my iPhone and of course have a hands-free system built in to the car). I am really digging it. I was surprised to see that it is a highly rated little vehicle, and even beats out the Honda Fit! I've never been into Fords, but so far, so good!
So after the car got rocked this week, Friday morning rolled around. Jeff and I got up for Crossfit at 4:25, like we always do MWF, and trekked the 15 minutes drive to CrossFitWestHouston (CFWH). Unfortunately our instructor had an alarm malfunction!! Happens to the best of us, but I was REALLY looking forward to the WOD.
Came home and turned on NPR only to hear that Sendai, Japan, where my brother Michael is serving an LDS mission, was bludgeoned by an 8.9-magnitude earthquake and a tsunami that's obliterated the entire coastal region of Sendai. It was a LOOOONNNNGGGGGG day of waiting, patiently waiting, scouring news web sites, searching for reports of how many dead, where was hit worst. We heard bits and pieces throughout the day, but it wasn't until 11:45 pm or so that an Area Authority of the LDS church in Sendai called my parents, saying he had spoken to Michael personally and knew he was well. OH MY GOODNESS!!!! I would say this is the biggest personal scare I've ever had in my life. Michael means the world to me as far as siblings go. He and I have always really understood each other, without having to say much to get there, and I would miss him so badly.
At the same time, I have a knowledge that I would see MIchael again should he have been fatally wounded in this crisis. Through the Plan of Salvation (or Plan of Happiness), I know why I am here on earth, where I go after, and what happens next. I know it because I feel this strong feeling in my heart every time I study it, or read about it in the Book of Mormon and the Bible, or read the words of the prophet Thomas S. Monson. That feeling is the Holy Spirit of God, or the Holy Ghost, confirming truth for me. It is the best feeling (see verses 22-23) in the world, not only to feel the Holy Ghost confirm truth, but also to know our Heavenly Father loves us enough to teach us these truths Himself, through the Holy Ghost.
Now that Michael is well, I'm realizing just how many people in Sendai are not so lucky. The photos are awful. I don't know how you'd even begin to clean up the mess that tsunami left. There will be much work to do.
In 5.5 hours, Jeff and I will be on a plane to Costa Rica!! I am so grateful to know MIchael is okay, BEFORE we leave.
Life is good!!! Pura vida!!
Monday, March 07, 2011
Five more days, then I'm running away
Exactly five days from this moment, my sweet Bou Bou and I will be boarding a flight to Mexico City, then on to Costa Rica!!! I cannot wait!! I have spent the past few months poring over the Interwebs, trying to find the best places to stay and see and go. Our trip is narrowed down to places I'm sure we will love! The first half of our trip, we are staying in rural Costa Rica. I am especially excited about this portion of the trip. We live in the heart of Houston, Texas, which if you didn't know is the fourth largest city in the U.S. and the largest city in the state of Texas. Each day we battle traffic along the dreaded Westheimer Road, an eight-lane mini highway not far from our home. I believe I have mentioned it before. If not, just know it is the most stressful road I've ever driven on, and unfortunately, everything we need is off this road. Blech.
Needless to say, I wanted to forgo the resort-style vacation and head into uncharted territory. These rural locations in Costa Rica are sure to be relaxing, and beautiful!
Hanging bridges in Las Heliconas Rainforest
Rio Celeste River and Waterfall
We will see many exotic animals, like monkeys, sloths, toucans, and many bugs and birds the US will never see. But the highlight of our trip will surely be the Monteverde Extremo Canopy zipline tour. The video below is a little long; I recommend skipping to the 6-minute mark to see the "Superman" portion of the tour. Or, if you want a real treat, watch the whole thing so you can listen to the funny things the German guy who made the video says. For example: "I didn't bought a hike!" and "I can't feel my legs back! And my bones!!"
After this fun-filled first few days, we will travel down to Manuel Antonio, which is supposed to have some of the best beaches in the country. MA is also much busier than the places we will have previously stayed, so it will be interesting to be in a more tourist-driven area.
Our last day we will fly to Mexico City and tour Teotihuacan! I can't wait for that!!!
Other than these fun activities, the thing I'm most excited for is the FOOD!! Costa Rican food looks delicious. Lots of black beans and rice, meat, plantains, and plenty of fruits and vegetables. Yum!
Pura vida!
Needless to say, I wanted to forgo the resort-style vacation and head into uncharted territory. These rural locations in Costa Rica are sure to be relaxing, and beautiful!
Hanging bridges in Las Heliconas Rainforest
Rio Celeste River and Waterfall
We will see many exotic animals, like monkeys, sloths, toucans, and many bugs and birds the US will never see. But the highlight of our trip will surely be the Monteverde Extremo Canopy zipline tour. The video below is a little long; I recommend skipping to the 6-minute mark to see the "Superman" portion of the tour. Or, if you want a real treat, watch the whole thing so you can listen to the funny things the German guy who made the video says. For example: "I didn't bought a hike!" and "I can't feel my legs back! And my bones!!"
Costa Rica Monteverde Extremo Canopy 2010 HD from philipp runk on Vimeo.
After this fun-filled first few days, we will travel down to Manuel Antonio, which is supposed to have some of the best beaches in the country. MA is also much busier than the places we will have previously stayed, so it will be interesting to be in a more tourist-driven area.
Our last day we will fly to Mexico City and tour Teotihuacan! I can't wait for that!!!
Other than these fun activities, the thing I'm most excited for is the FOOD!! Costa Rican food looks delicious. Lots of black beans and rice, meat, plantains, and plenty of fruits and vegetables. Yum!
Pura vida!
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
To Brandon Davies
Whatever you've done, we don't care. Just beg for absolution and get back on the court. Link to KSL article
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
The worst night of my life.
Not really the worst night of my life, but it was the worst I can remember for a really long time.
Each year the Houston Rodeo comes to town. Ever since I was a kid, I've always glamorized rodeos, probably because I've never been to one. I'd watch the bull and bronco riding on TV, the calf roping, the clowns getting manhandled by the bulls, the riders flying off and miraculously not dying...I couldn't get enough of it. I loved barrel racing too, because it was milder, gentler, and the horses weren't mean!
I'd always surmised those broncos were a special breed of horse that was really angry all the time, and flailed about when provoked by a rider. Same with the bulls. When I got older I realized the broncos and bulls weren't bucking just because they wanted the riders off their backs. The real reason made me uncomfortable--it sounded so painful--so I stopped watching. But secretly I still love the rodeo, or the idea of it.
So this past weekend, Jeff and I ventured to the rodeo, not for an actual rodeo, but for the World BBQ Championship that kicks off the Houston Rodeo each year.
Mmmmm. Ribs.
We were so excited. All day Saturday I ate minimally in anticipation of the BBQ feast, greater than any Thanksgiving dinner, more delicious than ambrosia itself. BBQ is the best way to cook meat. I couldn't wait to binge on succulent sausages and breathtaking brisket and palate-puckering pulled pork. Oh man, I am hungry now! And I was hungry then. Ravishing even.
Our friends, Jorge and Danielle, had our tickets, so we decided we'd meet up with them once we got to the BBQ. BAD IDEA.
Traffic kept us captive for an hour. Finally we pulled in to the old Astroworld lot. "How much?" Jeff asked. "Twenty dollars," the lady said. I gasped. "Twenty dollars? What does that even go toward?" I asked. Twenty dollars to park on some grass? NUTS! Without even making eye contact, the lady said, "Oh it goes for scholarships for the kids and things like that." Psh. Scholarship my lands, keep padding your pockets Reliant Stadium. You suck.
We prodded along with the rest of the cattle, maneuvering a rocky road, over the highway, to the stadium. And then we waited. Jorge and Danielle were stuck in traffic too. We waited, and waited, and waited. The old Primary song, "Pioneer children sang as they walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked" kept running through my mind. Except they words for me were "waited and waited and waited and waited," etc. I was going ballistic. The people watching was prime, but the whole poseur one-night-only cowboy look lost its humor pretty quickly. As did watching all the skimpily dressed girls, many of whom would've been wise to cover up. Funny how public events give certain classes of people cause for, uh, "dressing up." Or out. You know what I mean.
We waited for over an hour. If you've ever had to be with me when I haven't eaten in a long time, I'm sorry. I get really grumpy and really mad, and I hate everything and everyone. I was in this mode when we got to Reliant. You can imagine how saintly my Jeff was that night to put up with me.
Jorge and Danielle finally got into the BBQ, unfortunately on the other side of it. They maneuvered their way over to the gate where Jeff and I were waiting. Finally, I thought. Sweet BBQ is mine!! But not so fast: Jorge said, "We are leaving." What?! "Someone stole my wallet," he said. So off they went.
Jeff and I decided to walk around and start finding some BBQ. Only, all the BBQ was inside these booths, protected by policemen. What was the deal? Our tickets online said we were getting a BBQ plate with this, so where is ours? After wandering around in a starvation-induced stupor for ten minutes, we finally asked a policeman what the deal was. "Oh, these booths are all private parties. You have to have a pass to get in." He didn't know how to get a pass, and by this point, we didn't care. EVERYONE in there was drunk. Everyone was loud, obnoxious, inebriated, I probably stepped in vomit ten times. It was awful. Trying to be positive, Jeff suggested we go to the carnival. On a normal night, I would have been all over that--I'd been admired the gigantic ferris wheel on the horizon all night--but not this night. I have never wanted to get out of a place so badly.
"What's going to make this better for you, my love," my sweet Jeff asked. There was only one place that could ever do me right at a time like this, and he knew it.
On the way to our magical place, we played the only music healing enough to soothe the weary soul and stomach at a time like this: Third Eye Blind's self-titled album. We pulled into the parking lot, blasting "Narcolepsy," competing against the volume with our own singing. Two teenagers were in the car next to us. They thought we were nuts. They have no clue about the '90s.
I ate delicious chicken and dumplings at Cracker Barrel that night, Jeff had fried shrimp and even splurged with some mac and cheese. Food has never tasted so good. A night has never turned around so quickly, or so well. I love my Jeffy.
And I hate the Houston Rodeo.
Each year the Houston Rodeo comes to town. Ever since I was a kid, I've always glamorized rodeos, probably because I've never been to one. I'd watch the bull and bronco riding on TV, the calf roping, the clowns getting manhandled by the bulls, the riders flying off and miraculously not dying...I couldn't get enough of it. I loved barrel racing too, because it was milder, gentler, and the horses weren't mean!
I'd always surmised those broncos were a special breed of horse that was really angry all the time, and flailed about when provoked by a rider. Same with the bulls. When I got older I realized the broncos and bulls weren't bucking just because they wanted the riders off their backs. The real reason made me uncomfortable--it sounded so painful--so I stopped watching. But secretly I still love the rodeo, or the idea of it.
So this past weekend, Jeff and I ventured to the rodeo, not for an actual rodeo, but for the World BBQ Championship that kicks off the Houston Rodeo each year.
Mmmmm. Ribs.
We were so excited. All day Saturday I ate minimally in anticipation of the BBQ feast, greater than any Thanksgiving dinner, more delicious than ambrosia itself. BBQ is the best way to cook meat. I couldn't wait to binge on succulent sausages and breathtaking brisket and palate-puckering pulled pork. Oh man, I am hungry now! And I was hungry then. Ravishing even.
Our friends, Jorge and Danielle, had our tickets, so we decided we'd meet up with them once we got to the BBQ. BAD IDEA.
Traffic kept us captive for an hour. Finally we pulled in to the old Astroworld lot. "How much?" Jeff asked. "Twenty dollars," the lady said. I gasped. "Twenty dollars? What does that even go toward?" I asked. Twenty dollars to park on some grass? NUTS! Without even making eye contact, the lady said, "Oh it goes for scholarships for the kids and things like that." Psh. Scholarship my lands, keep padding your pockets Reliant Stadium. You suck.
We prodded along with the rest of the cattle, maneuvering a rocky road, over the highway, to the stadium. And then we waited. Jorge and Danielle were stuck in traffic too. We waited, and waited, and waited. The old Primary song, "Pioneer children sang as they walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked" kept running through my mind. Except they words for me were "waited and waited and waited and waited," etc. I was going ballistic. The people watching was prime, but the whole poseur one-night-only cowboy look lost its humor pretty quickly. As did watching all the skimpily dressed girls, many of whom would've been wise to cover up. Funny how public events give certain classes of people cause for, uh, "dressing up." Or out. You know what I mean.
We waited for over an hour. If you've ever had to be with me when I haven't eaten in a long time, I'm sorry. I get really grumpy and really mad, and I hate everything and everyone. I was in this mode when we got to Reliant. You can imagine how saintly my Jeff was that night to put up with me.
Jorge and Danielle finally got into the BBQ, unfortunately on the other side of it. They maneuvered their way over to the gate where Jeff and I were waiting. Finally, I thought. Sweet BBQ is mine!! But not so fast: Jorge said, "We are leaving." What?! "Someone stole my wallet," he said. So off they went.
Jeff and I decided to walk around and start finding some BBQ. Only, all the BBQ was inside these booths, protected by policemen. What was the deal? Our tickets online said we were getting a BBQ plate with this, so where is ours? After wandering around in a starvation-induced stupor for ten minutes, we finally asked a policeman what the deal was. "Oh, these booths are all private parties. You have to have a pass to get in." He didn't know how to get a pass, and by this point, we didn't care. EVERYONE in there was drunk. Everyone was loud, obnoxious, inebriated, I probably stepped in vomit ten times. It was awful. Trying to be positive, Jeff suggested we go to the carnival. On a normal night, I would have been all over that--I'd been admired the gigantic ferris wheel on the horizon all night--but not this night. I have never wanted to get out of a place so badly.
"What's going to make this better for you, my love," my sweet Jeff asked. There was only one place that could ever do me right at a time like this, and he knew it.
On the way to our magical place, we played the only music healing enough to soothe the weary soul and stomach at a time like this: Third Eye Blind's self-titled album. We pulled into the parking lot, blasting "Narcolepsy," competing against the volume with our own singing. Two teenagers were in the car next to us. They thought we were nuts. They have no clue about the '90s.
I ate delicious chicken and dumplings at Cracker Barrel that night, Jeff had fried shrimp and even splurged with some mac and cheese. Food has never tasted so good. A night has never turned around so quickly, or so well. I love my Jeffy.
And I hate the Houston Rodeo.
Monday, February 28, 2011
my top ten
Things currently driving my passion:
1. Costa Rica---only two more weeks, my passport FINALLY came, not looking forward to wearing synthetics and ugly sandals for a week
2. CrossFit---I finally have a bum that's not so flat-as-a-pancake, and my body is always sore, BUT I'm also in probably the best shape of my life.
3. The Zone/Paleo---wellness is 80% nutrition and that is definitely true!
4. chocolate cinnamon bears (not Zone/Paleo approved)---Cade is a saint for sending us a bag (actually two--USPS lost the first one and they wonder why they're going bankrupt), I may enlist you for monthly shipments
5. Wee Musicians---mid-century prints, so adorable, I saw an overpriced trio of them at The Guild Shop (Houston's BEST thrift/consignment shop) and haven't stopped dreaming of them after passing them up
6. bettering myself--weight loss (17 pounds so far! I am fitting in clothes I haven't fit in for a while, dropped a pant size and shirt size)
7. purging--not the eating disorder kind of purge, just the kind where I rid my life of unproductive things. Namely surfing the Internet. It's so fun, but I still have sewing projects to start/finish and the www is not helping much.
8. how I want to parent--Jeff and I are both getting baby hungry, which I think is a good thing. Something not exactly good are all the kids we've been around lately who have MAJOR behavioral issues, that seem to be perpetuated by their parents. We are pretty sure this one kid at church is going to turn into a serial killer. He made the strangest comments when we subbed his class in Primary a few weeks ago. We are talking a lot about how we want to raise our kids: handle good and bad behavior, discipline, teach, etc. Luckily we agree on most everything.
9. cooking a whole chicken -- this one is kind of weird. I cooked a whole chicken for the first time last night. Reaching into the cavity and pulling out the giblets was pretty disgusting. Worse though was rinsing the chicken and patting it dry. It felt like a baby. I was traumatized at first, but I'd do it again and again for the price. $4.75 for a 5-lb. chicken that fed us, the sister missionaries, is giving me lunch today, and Jeff and I enough meat for our salads tonight. $4.75 gets us about four chicken breasts, if I can find it on sale.
10. Gardening -- we started a garden share with a family in our congregation. The wife is an agronomist. She's been growing organic for five years or more. Can't wait for our harvest. We are learning a lot about Houston's growing seasons. There are two: Spring and Fall. Spring season you plant in February and harvest in April. The garden can't survive the hot, sticky summers and all the mold and fungus the season brings. Plant again in August, harvest in October, often through the winter. Jeff and I are scheming on how to turn our small patio into an urban garden paradise. Perhaps tiered grow boxes. I'm not sure...all I know is we need to plant soon! Like last weekend!
What spring projects do you have planned?
1. Costa Rica---only two more weeks, my passport FINALLY came, not looking forward to wearing synthetics and ugly sandals for a week
2. CrossFit---I finally have a bum that's not so flat-as-a-pancake, and my body is always sore, BUT I'm also in probably the best shape of my life.
3. The Zone/Paleo---wellness is 80% nutrition and that is definitely true!
4. chocolate cinnamon bears (not Zone/Paleo approved)---Cade is a saint for sending us a bag (actually two--USPS lost the first one and they wonder why they're going bankrupt), I may enlist you for monthly shipments
5. Wee Musicians---mid-century prints, so adorable, I saw an overpriced trio of them at The Guild Shop (Houston's BEST thrift/consignment shop) and haven't stopped dreaming of them after passing them up
6. bettering myself--weight loss (17 pounds so far! I am fitting in clothes I haven't fit in for a while, dropped a pant size and shirt size)
7. purging--not the eating disorder kind of purge, just the kind where I rid my life of unproductive things. Namely surfing the Internet. It's so fun, but I still have sewing projects to start/finish and the www is not helping much.
8. how I want to parent--Jeff and I are both getting baby hungry, which I think is a good thing. Something not exactly good are all the kids we've been around lately who have MAJOR behavioral issues, that seem to be perpetuated by their parents. We are pretty sure this one kid at church is going to turn into a serial killer. He made the strangest comments when we subbed his class in Primary a few weeks ago. We are talking a lot about how we want to raise our kids: handle good and bad behavior, discipline, teach, etc. Luckily we agree on most everything.
9. cooking a whole chicken -- this one is kind of weird. I cooked a whole chicken for the first time last night. Reaching into the cavity and pulling out the giblets was pretty disgusting. Worse though was rinsing the chicken and patting it dry. It felt like a baby. I was traumatized at first, but I'd do it again and again for the price. $4.75 for a 5-lb. chicken that fed us, the sister missionaries, is giving me lunch today, and Jeff and I enough meat for our salads tonight. $4.75 gets us about four chicken breasts, if I can find it on sale.
10. Gardening -- we started a garden share with a family in our congregation. The wife is an agronomist. She's been growing organic for five years or more. Can't wait for our harvest. We are learning a lot about Houston's growing seasons. There are two: Spring and Fall. Spring season you plant in February and harvest in April. The garden can't survive the hot, sticky summers and all the mold and fungus the season brings. Plant again in August, harvest in October, often through the winter. Jeff and I are scheming on how to turn our small patio into an urban garden paradise. Perhaps tiered grow boxes. I'm not sure...all I know is we need to plant soon! Like last weekend!
What spring projects do you have planned?
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Killer squirrel
I have been wondering lately why I don't really like Houston.
Houston is very big. Not big in the there's-something-cool-around-every-corner big, like New York, or the Bay Area, or European cities. Just big. Strip mall big. Every day I drive by thousands of strip malls, seedy shops where immodest clothes are proudly displayed, fast food joints and greasy Chinese takeout places and lots of beat up cars that badly need body work done. Drivers are either really dumb or really aggressive. I am constantly worried about our apartment being broken into, or Jeff getting jumped at work (he works in the ghetto), or Jeff getting in a car crash, or blowing a tire on the crazy pot holes all over Houston's roads. Every day I dread the summer. If you have never been to Houston in the summer, you are lucky. It is disgusting. The weather here is already getting disgusting. Humid, warm, sticky, and the a/c in the Rat stopped working. In summer there is little respite from the weather. The pool helps, and cold showers, but otherwise you live in a steam room.
It is a noisy city. Noisy with traffic, filth, ugly music. But also birds songs I hadn't previously heard, and kids sometimes, and the NPR affiliate is really good, except for during pledge times when I can't stand it anymore. I mean we donate to KUHF but they never stop begging for money.
I was thinking about all the places I've lived that I've loved. Which is everywhere. And places I've visited that I've loved. Of course Europe--London and Paris, San Francisco and most of the Bay Area, I really love Utah and the idea of Utah. I love Colorado. I love most of California.
But like our friend Lars said last night, "It's all about the people, right?"
Sure, Lars.
What brought all this on was realizing that none of my favorite memories have anything to do with being in Houston. Some of my favorite memories occurred here, but they could have occurred anywhere. I feel nostalgic for other cities and towns because of the memories I made there, that could only be made there.
Also, my office window overlooks the roof of some administration building for the University of St. Thomas here in Houston. It's an old house that's been converted into office space. Squirrels are constantly playing the roof; you can frequently find me procrastinating by watching these crazy rodents. They are nuts. It's like WWF wrestling up here.
I mention it because I just looked over at the roof, and a squirrel slithered out from between the roof tiles and wooden frame. It was really creepy. Considering the vivid dreams I'm having lately, I will probably dream about a killer squirrel tonight. Oh great.
Houston is very big. Not big in the there's-something-cool-around-every-corner big, like New York, or the Bay Area, or European cities. Just big. Strip mall big. Every day I drive by thousands of strip malls, seedy shops where immodest clothes are proudly displayed, fast food joints and greasy Chinese takeout places and lots of beat up cars that badly need body work done. Drivers are either really dumb or really aggressive. I am constantly worried about our apartment being broken into, or Jeff getting jumped at work (he works in the ghetto), or Jeff getting in a car crash, or blowing a tire on the crazy pot holes all over Houston's roads. Every day I dread the summer. If you have never been to Houston in the summer, you are lucky. It is disgusting. The weather here is already getting disgusting. Humid, warm, sticky, and the a/c in the Rat stopped working. In summer there is little respite from the weather. The pool helps, and cold showers, but otherwise you live in a steam room.
It is a noisy city. Noisy with traffic, filth, ugly music. But also birds songs I hadn't previously heard, and kids sometimes, and the NPR affiliate is really good, except for during pledge times when I can't stand it anymore. I mean we donate to KUHF but they never stop begging for money.
I was thinking about all the places I've lived that I've loved. Which is everywhere. And places I've visited that I've loved. Of course Europe--London and Paris, San Francisco and most of the Bay Area, I really love Utah and the idea of Utah. I love Colorado. I love most of California.
But like our friend Lars said last night, "It's all about the people, right?"
Sure, Lars.
What brought all this on was realizing that none of my favorite memories have anything to do with being in Houston. Some of my favorite memories occurred here, but they could have occurred anywhere. I feel nostalgic for other cities and towns because of the memories I made there, that could only be made there.
Also, my office window overlooks the roof of some administration building for the University of St. Thomas here in Houston. It's an old house that's been converted into office space. Squirrels are constantly playing the roof; you can frequently find me procrastinating by watching these crazy rodents. They are nuts. It's like WWF wrestling up here.
I mention it because I just looked over at the roof, and a squirrel slithered out from between the roof tiles and wooden frame. It was really creepy. Considering the vivid dreams I'm having lately, I will probably dream about a killer squirrel tonight. Oh great.
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