Them V. Me

I recently started a little part-time job that requires me to do some walking around on a college campus. I myself am a college graduate, and remember well the days gone by. It has come to my attention, however, that the times they are a'changin.

Here are some primary difference between ME, and the girls I see walking on campus in the middle of winter.

1. Boots: My boots are designed for keeping my feet warm and dry, as

well as for providing traction on slick, icy surfaces.

Their boots are designed for Beyonce during a live Grammy performance.

2. Thighs: My thighs are all but bubble wrapped. Long underwear (you know the ones of which I speak...) and some nice toasty winter pants keep me from even thinking about the cold.

Their thighs: clearly exposed with miniskirts. Don't tell me those "tights" are keeping out the chill. I can see their skin is raw and windburned.

3. Hair: For all intents and purposes, I could very well be bald. Not a hair on my head can be seen peeking out from under THIS scarf and hat, with the hood pulled up over the top.

Their hair: seriously cute do's. I, at times, even have hair envy. There are thick, chunky highlights; straight, shiny locks; even a few adorably casual up-do's.

4. The tan: Me: Remember the albino on Princess Bride? Yeah. Nice. I've come to embrace my outer causcasian.

Them: $25 a month gets you unlimited visits. So I guess when the legs aren't red and windburned, they're probably a very cute shade of light brown.

There was a time when I would've sacrificed warmth and sensibility for looking cute. Is it a sign of aging that I absolutely do not care what I look like, as long as I'm not freezing? I remember saying things like "I would NEVER be caught dead..." and now, here I am, alive and kicking, and bundled up like the abominable snowman. And as white as him too. I'll take that any day over no feeling in my extremities and impending skin cancer. Being older has its perks.

Believe it... Or Not

Things happen to my husband that don't happen to the average Joe. Weird things. Hilarious things. Things that make my life seem very boring and dull. This is one reason I enjoy being married to him. He brings a lot of entertainment my way, without even trying.

I was recently reminded of a date we once went on. We went out for supper, and chose a restaurant in a hotel that seemed pretty nice. We sat down, paying little attention to our surroundings. I excused myself to go wash my hands, and as I came back into the room , I immediately noticed someone staring at my husband, winking and smiling. I was shocked. I mean, there's coy, and then there's rude. We were obviously there together! Show some class! I mean, what kind of man hits on another woman's date?

Wait? What? Reread that last line!? Oh yeah. This guy was totally hitting on my husband from across the room. I stopped and stared. And then I looked over at Skip. I could only see him from behind, and his shoulders were literally shaking. I slowly walked over to him, and when I looked at his face, he had tears in his eyes. He was holding back his laughter so painfully, that he was about to cry. So I asked him if he was embarassed that he was being hit on by a man.

"WHAT?!" He seemed shocked and confused. So I asked, "What exactly are you trying not to laugh at?" He said, "Look out the window." We were sitting near a window overlooking the patio, down into the pool. Imagine my surprise to find two men in thongs and leather vests, chasing each other around the pool and doing cannonballs off the diving board. I burst out laughing, and then pointed out his admirier across the room. THE GUY WAS STILL SMILING AT HIM! Jeesh.

This should've been a good indication that we were in the wrong place, and we should've left. But no. We stayed. And when the waiter brought over our appetizers... the HUGEST mozzarella sticks EVER... we just couldn't eat them. We looked all around the room, and noticed inordinate numbers of two-man tables. Then we observed two women come in. Very burly women. Hmmm.

Leaving the restaurant, we noticed a marquis in the lobby. "WELCOME RAINBOW PRIDE CONVENTION!" Where was that sign when we came INTO the restaurant? When he got hooted and hollered at from a passing truck full of men, I was beginning to get a complex! Bad enough none of the men were hitting on me, but I didn't even have another WOMAN look my way. So now we clearly see who the real hottie is in this relationship.

Here, There and Everywhere

After Brooke bore her testimony about Office Depot in her comment on my last post, I decided to follow her advice. I went knowing I wanted organization. Well believe me you, they have something for everyone. Twenty bucks and two hours later, I used this: and this:

to achieve this:

I got one item to organize the mail, one to organize everyone's myriad number of papers, and one item for pencils, pens, etc. Now the trick will be to see if everyone can play along. I gave the kids a briefing on how it is supposed to work. They seemed enthused. I'll take a picture in a week, spontaneously, and see what it looks like. Thanks for the motivation, Clair.

On a separate note, we have a horse trough in the yard where we keep some goldfish. It's our attempt at "pets". Anyway, we were asking around this fall about what to do with them once winter hit. We were assured that even though the trough would probably freeze over, the fish would "come back to life" when it warmed up. I'm more of a city girl than a country girl, so to say I was skeptical would be an understatement. But what does a city girl know? It warmed up, and I went out with a net to scoop up the dead fish that were sure to be floating on the surface. Imagine my surprise when I found this:

Four happy, albeit slow, goldfish swimming around in the water. I threw in some fish food and chalked this up as a learning experience. Then I emailed the picture to Skip and said WHATTYA KNOW? He is, like me, a no-pet guy. But he has a strange affinity for these fish. Here was his reply to my email:

Did they ask about me? They look kind of thin, are they okay? Do they remember you? Tell them daddy loves them and will be home later to tuck them in.

What a guy.

Anyway. It really made me start thinking about frozen foods, but I stopped quickly because I started to feel sick.

And lastly, here are the kids. Don't ask me what they're looking at. I don't remember.

Overheard

Another snow day today. Same old whine.
Here are some astute things heard around our home of late:

Mika had a friend sleep over the other day. I was in the room reminding them it was time for bed. This is their conversation, had as if I wasn't even standing there:
Dillon: Hey Mika. Remeber last time, when me and Josh both slept over?
Mika: Yeah.
Dillon: Remember how we stayed up all night farting and telling yo'mama jokes?
Mika: Yeaaaahhhh...
Dillon: That was so awesome. Can we do it again tonight?
Mika: Yeah. Definitely.
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Keola was standing in front of the dishwasher during the dry cycle the other day, staring into the little air vent:
Keola: Hey mom! This hot steam coming out really burns your eyeball!
Mom: Have you considered moving your eyeball out of the way?
Keola: Total silence. Moves slowly away from hot steam. Oh. I didn't think of that.

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Coming home from church on Superbowl Sunday:
Mika: Hey guys! My teacher doesn't watch football!
Us guys: Well, some people try not to do that on Sunday sweetie.
Mika: No, Mom. I mean she doesn't watch football EVER. I've never met someone like that before. Weird, huh?

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With so many snow days, my VS Pink loungewear has been getting a lot of wear. The other day I felt a little finger poking my rearend. I turned around to find Keola staring at my hiney.
Me: What are you doing, son?
Keola: Your butt isn't like jello. When I poked it, it didn't shake.
Me: Is it supposed to?
Keola: I think if you're a mom, it's supposed to.
I shudder to think of the testing grounds for his theory.

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The missionaries were having supper at the house the other night. Politics came up.
Elder V: This could be the year for the first mormon president, the first woman president, or the first black president. We should just elect Gladys Knight and get it all over with.

Life Goes On

I realized I could not live in mourning forever. There are children and a husband to consider. I had to shake the funk. I had to accept the painful defeat and move on. What better way to accomplish that than with food?
Rynell, who by all means appears to be a master chef, assured me that some Cafe Rio knock-offs would be out of this world. I have been to Utah a couple of times in the past year or so, and everyone was raving about this restaurant. We tried it and loved it. So much so that it was Samantha's restaurant of choice for her post-baptism meal.

Basically, you take this:

some chicken and rice, and you whip it all together to make this incredible meal. I believe it's some kind of burrito. But the end result looked like this:

There was an incredibly moist and flavorful chicken, lime rice, "doctored" beans, pico de gallo, tomatillo dressing, rich, creamy guacamole, and some shredded lettuce all wrapped up in a fresh warm tortilla. It was so delicious, my mouth began to smile again. And in order to prevent ruining the food with saline, I quit crying while I ate. Skip's favorite food is Mexican, so I felt even better seeing him enjoy his meal. I think a tiny ray of sunshine beamed down from above on our table.

Anyway. I hope Giselle Bundchen was as good to Tom Brady. He needed cheering up, and after all, I fully believe Giselle is the new Jessica.

Oh, and as for my tombstone, Lisa's epitaph was definitely creative but I refuse to put it on my headstone. It's Paige by a mile. And no Katie, you didn't win.

It's All Because I Forgot to Wear My Pats Hat!

You tell me how I should have it engraved. And no, I don't want to talk about it. I'll pay a therapist good money for that.

*post amendment: if you can come up with an engraving for my tombstone that will make me smile once again, i'll send you a prize.