8 Crazy Things

I've been tagged by Bethany to expose 8 little unknown things to you all. It's been a few days, because, well, it's hard to come up with anything interesting to say besides "Hey guys, I have a secret love for Cadbury's chocolate eggs. I dream in pastels at Easter."

Though these might not be any more interesting than that.

1. I can ride a unicycle. I learned in high school while on the dance team, we'd ride in the parade our city puts on every 24th of July (the day the pioneers made it to the Utah valley). We spent four hours every day in the summer riding those things, until we were so saddle sore we actually had SORES. Open wounds. In fact, some of the girls had GENIUS ideas to put maxi pads on the seats for some extra cushion. That first year we had a "retreat", basically hell practices for three days. We danced in the hot sun and rode our unicycles up insanely steep hills. I can still ride. I still think about it every once in a while, and have made a mental note to get it from my parents garage the next time I'm home. It's the only interesting talent I have.

2. As I've mentioned before, I danced in the closing ceremony for the 2002 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City. I rubbed shoulders with some celebrities, enjoyed the wonderful spirit of camaraderie, all while wearing a lovely black one piece suit and ski mask.

3. I hate beans. Black, pinto, refried, garbanzo, string, white, blue, purple. You name it. Just thinking about them gives me the heevies. My friends all know this and continually tease me for the one time I "flipped out" when I found a refried bean in my tostada salad. I didn't flip out, I just dry-heaved a little. Refried are the worst of the little devils. Oh, but I do enjoy edamame. I enjoy that very much.

4. When I was in sixth grade the local 4-H Guide Dog chapter came to my school and put on a presentation. It ignited a little fire inside of me that worked it's way in and through every little cell of my body until one day it randomly decided to make it's way out. I began my quest to become a guide dog handler, (puppy walker? Since when did they start calling it that?) despite the fact that my parents had made it very clear to me that we wouldn't be getting a dog. I begged. I pleaded. I wrote letters. I begged some more. I went to guide dog meetings every Monday night for a year, trying to prove my responsibility. One glorious day my dad sat me down and told me that I could either get a small dog to keep, or become a guide dog handler, which of course, meant I'd have to give up the dog after a year and half to continue on to the program. Of course you know what I chose. It was the best year of my life, followed by the hardest good bye in all of my 15 years. Bellam, my dog, made it all the way to the end of the program before he was dropped because of his chronic ear infections. They always offer the dropped dogs back to their puppy handlers, but because of my new baby sister my parents wouldn't let me keep him. He now lives somewhere in Oregon with a lovely man who takes him on mile long walks in the mountains or on the beach every day. I still miss him.

5. I seem to have an affinity for passing out. The first time I did it was in front of a few hundred people while giving a talk in church. Once on purpose at a party in junior high because it was the new "it" thing to do. I passed out in a P.F. Changs at rush hour, once while giving blood at my university, once while getting four stitches on my finger, once in the bathroom of our little apartment in Albany in front of my new husband who had never before seen someone do so. Just to name a few.

6. I've mentioned this before as well, but it's still new to me. I'm more aware of it now and so is Caleb. "What were you just thinking? You were tapping your feet.....were you counting again? What were you counting? Come on! Tell me!"

7. I think. A lot. I imagine scenarios in my head while I'm getting dressed in the morning, happy ones, sad ones, crazy ones. I imagine what my life would perhaps be like if I had made one minor little change here or there. I imagine what it would be like to get in a car wreck, spend a week in the hospital. I imagine what it will be like to have baby, how long it will take before the newness wears off and I'm fondly thinking back to the "easy days" before him / her. I imagine what those first moments will be like when I see him / her, after nine months of wondering. I imagine what it would be like to save someone, to have to use my CPR skills. I try to imagine how frightening it would be to choke on something. I imagine what I would be doing right now if I weren't married. If I'd be living on my own or with my parents. If I would be a nurse by now. If I would still be working as a receptionist at my dad's office. If I would be wishing to be married. If I would still be starving myself. I imagine what it would be like to lose a loved one, my parents, even Caleb. Sometimes I wonder those things at night, imagine what I would do, if I would melt into a puddle and not get out of bed for days. I imagine people trying to comfort me, how terrible it would be. Those nights I usually end up bawling and waking up Caleb and telling him that I'm going to die first.

Twisted, I know. I can't help it, my mind runs a million miles an hour. It's bound to land on the horrible stuff every once in a while.

8. I have always wanted to be an actress, a model, a singer, something, though I have zero skills in those areas. I secretly hope that one day a talent scout will tap my shoulder as I'm fingering through the clothes in a department store and ask me if I have an agent. I'll say no, and tell me that he'd love to be mine, as he thinks I have potential. And since this is my perfect world, I end up doing it on the side, appearing in magazines but still managing to have a normal life raising my children.

A girl can dream, right?

(And now I'm supposed to tag other people right? I don't know very many people on the internet, so let's just say if you're reading this you've been tagged. And let me know too, cause I'd love to read them!)

Black Lining....

It's finally here....

I'd say it's a good enough reason to play hooky right? Start the loooooooong weekend off right?

Oprah instills the fear....

Before leaving work today I gave Caleb a hug while he was on a conference call, and he put his hand over the mouth piece and said:

"Bye, I love you. I don't have worms."

And I swear to you, the first thing that popped into my head was that line from Princess Bride, "Her final words were.....".


Mental note: Never leave someone with the image of your innards floating around in their brain. Leave them with thoughts of your undying love, your deep gratitude, or at the very least, kittens and puppies. Never your innards.

Sunday Priorities

Aw, cute right? Taking a Sunday nap together.....

In reality they're just guarding their most prized possessions....

Zoinks!!

Big thanks to Em for the lovely treats she sent Bear this week as part of her Calculated Acts of Kindness! As soon as I released him the treat disappeared, I've never seen him inhale something so quickly. Ever. Em, Bear is eternally yours! (And I'll keep you updated on my end of the bargain!)

She also sent along a little rawhide mocassin which fit him perfectly....

As you can see, he's a bit of a priss. But never more than when he gets his fur "done". Don't let his dejected face fool you, inside he's leaping with joy....

He is a completely different dog when he's shaved. Lighter, with a spring in his step. I think deep down he's a nudist, he'd just never admit it.

Girl! Coming through!

The month of May at the office I work for is lovingly entitled "The Month of Hell" because of the many major events taking place every weekend. I've been gearing up a large golf tournament which proved to be interesting, as I know next to nothing about golf. I know that my dad plays several times a week, I know that you have to hit the ball into the hole. On The Green. I know there are golf carts involved, and that golfers like to use expletives and names of fowls to describe and classify their shots. I know that my guy friends spent many high school summer nights snorkling in the leech infested ponds for golf balls. That's about it.

I won't go into the details of the event, how I spent several hours at home the night before doing "last minute" projects, or how I spent the morning finishing up "last minute" projects, or how I spent the afternoon finishing up "last minute" projects, or how I scrambled to get out of there to avoid any "last minute" projects. I will not get into how 99% of those "last minute" projects could have been completed weeks ago, while I'd sat on my butt waiting for them. I just won't, okay? Gees....pushy.

The golf course where we held the event was private of course, and I've never seen such a beautiful and large gated community. I absolutely postively DROOLED over the homes as I drove by, admiring the edged lawns, crisp estate sized floormats, and lawns that any self respecting golf course would pine for. There was not a soul in sight. I might have found this eerie if I wasn't so infected with the Home-Buying Bug. All I know is that my Toyota Corolla seemed a little out of place. Sorta like when you walk into Nordstroms in your faded Old Navy tee (what's WITH that box cut style they've got going on?!) and last year's frayed jeans.

The event went smoothly enough with only a few minor revelations. The first? I most definitely have absolutely zero knowledge about the San Jose Sharks, much less knowing their star player as he stood before me politely asking if he could please check in.

"Excuse me sir, could you tell me your last name? Oh? You said it's right there on the back of your jersey? Would you mind turning around so I could read that? Yes? Thanks...."

I was completely unaware until one of my coworkers ran up to me screeching "DO YOU KNOW WHO THAT WAS?!?! HMM!?!?"

The second revelation? I am most definitely a girl. I was told to go run some lunches out to some people on the 7th hole and thrown the keys to the nearest golf cart.

"You know how to drive those, right?" Umm........no......... "Well, you'll get it. And be quick! I have some "last minute" projects for you to do!"

I sat in the seat for a few minutes trying to figure out how to get the thing going and nearly lost it when I looked down and saw TWO pedals....."Ohmi....is this thing a STICK!? WAIT! I CAN'T DRIVE A STICK!!!!!"

.................

..........................

Yeah, my car? That's not a stick? It has two pedals. This thought took it's sweet time channeling through the thick grey matter of my brain, and seriously, it was only hurting itself. Ischemc stroke is no laughing matter, Mr. Grey Matter. You should know.

Oh, and I REALLY could have done without that wide-load beeping noise as I reversed. That really wasn't necessary.

I know EVERYTHING!!!!!!*

On the way home from tennis:

"Well if you're really getting into basketball now you should check out the rule book! Learn the terms!"

"I don't need to read the rules, Kim. Every straight male is born with ingrained rule books for every sport."



*to understand the hilarity of the title, you must first watch this.....all of it. Go ahead, sit back, relax. You can thank me later.

In which Freud has a field day

We watched the Jazz vs Golden State basketball game tonight. We meaning both Caleb and I. Meaning Caleb watched a basketball game. On tv. Without any prodding from me.

Cabe likes sports...he likes golf, likes skiing, likes...Frisbee golf.... He's just never been into any of the traditional sports, never mind watching any on tv. I think it happened the other night when my cousins were in town. We listened to the last three minutes of the basketball game on the radio while we were driving home from the Giants game. He caught the bug. Whatever the reason, he's thrown himself into watching the last few games, gluing himself to the couch. The first time he turned it on I watched in amazement as he suddenly morphed into my dad, yelling insults at the players, suggesting new game plays to no one in particular. Now he's having entire conversations about it including his love for Fisher and Kirilenko, his utter hatred of Davis, throwing around their last names as if he's been watching his whole life.

It cracks me up.

He doesn't find it particularly funny, but he'll come around I'm sure.

The longer we're married the more I realize that I have indeed married my dad.

Just call me Steffi...

Caleb and I recently decided to start playing tennis, mainly as a way to stay in shape because Caleb is most decidedly NOT a gym rat. I am perfectly content to run in place while catching Seinfeld re-runs, but Caleb needs to be moving, actively engaged.....I can't imagine why.

We bought cheap rackets at Target along with equally cheap tennis balls. We had no idea we'd end up going EVERY SINGLE DAY for two weeks straight. And counting. We've both really enjoyed getting outside and having something fun to do together besides molding ourselves into the couch. Until then I'd never actually held a tennis racket with the intent to play tennis. The closest I'd come was badminton, and those habits seem to die hard....for me at least. Caleb is one of THOSE, the kind of people who effortlessly master a sport on their first try. I watched him get up and ride a wake board the first time, turning tricks after just a few rides. I also watched him get up on the air chair on his first try, which really, is a feat in and of itself. Just trust me on that one.

Where was I? Tennis...yes...anyway, he spent a lot of time running after the ball I'd hit, three courts over. He still does, but thankfully less frequently. Except of course, when I attempt my backhand. Those balls usually end up either 30 feet behind me or narrowly missing the garbage can.

Here I am, attempting to serve. Not quite sure where the racket is in this shot...I'm sure it's somewhere....

Here, I decide to use my racket.

I have no idea what my other arm is doing, I believe it had a purpose though. It must have...

This? This is what I call......alright, I have no clue. At least my arm has somewhat been subdued...

Alright. That's enough. This isn't even funny anymore. Do you see my foot? That's sick. I do love my pensive face though.....very ethereal....

Here's Cabe, NOT showing off. At all.

Do you see those trees?! This tennis court happens to be in our new favorite little neighborhood, and if we had $2 million dollars lying around we'd cash it in for a two bedroom just a few streets down.....and yes, I said two million...and a two bedroom....it hurts my heart....

A garlic town and a cherry tree....

Yesterday Caleb and I decided to hit up the....GINORMOUS....outlet mall just south of us. Caleb had a gift card for Ralph Lauren Polo, or Polo Ralph Lauren... or whatever...and so we decided to go see what we could get for our money. Apparently, not a lot. Am I the only one who feels that $50 for a shirt, at an outlet store mind you, is a little high? Just a little? Maybe it's just me?

After bedding back my shopping tick (I could have bought EVERYTHING at Gap....) we decided to explore Gilroy. It just so happens to be the Garlic Capital of the World, and yes, we will be attending the Garlic Festival this summer. Just so I can see some of the natives pop them like candies. They even boast garlic ICE CREAM for cryin' out loud. That's some serious garlic, and I plan to witness it. And then de-garlicify myself before returning home. Maybe I can rent one of those fancy suits they wear at the micro chip companies around here....

It's a gorgeous little area.

We saw this little sign and I immediately told Caleb to "drive on!", but not before capturing these lovely little blue flowers...

Beautiful, no?

We continued on after buying $2 worth of sweet cherries and found an old catholic (?) chapel and cemetery. A little reminiscent of the cemeteries I saw in France, and several of the headstones dated back to the early 1800's.

A few of Caleb's shots....

Anybody know what "IHS" or is it "THS", stands for?

It was a gorgeous chapel, and every once in a while the bells would ring out a song. Really beautiful. Though I will make it known that I am NOT a fan of the whole chiming out the hour thing. Especially while I'm in a cemetery. I have an irrational fear of grandfather clocks, I can't explain it. I just do.

I don't even want to THINK about what that place would be like at midnight, with the bells chiming.....makes my insides churn.

But these? These were DELICIOUS.

(Mental note: There is such a thing as too many sweet cherries....trust me....)

Driving

A couple years ago Caleb took me on a date (I know shocker right? We DATED!). He'd told me to dress nice and took me to the Macaroni Grill where he surprised me with tickets to see Jerry Seinfeld's stand up show in Salt Lake. I was really excited, I'd heard so many great things about it, and really, who doesn't love Jerry Seinfeld? Hmm? That's what I thought.

(Oh! Funny story! Totally beside the point, but funny nonetheless. We walked out of the restaurant and ran into a girl we'd both gone to high school. She got married three months after graduating, and was rather smug about it. She struck up small talk, and soon we all realized we were going to the second showing of the night, and she'd just been to the first. "Well look at you two, tryin' to be all fancy!", she'd exclaimed. Very HA HA. Very.)

Anyway.

The show was fabulous of course, but one bit struck a cord with me. I can't even remember what he was getting at, but he said something about how funny it was that sometimes when you're with someone on a hill you imagine pushing them off it, or when you're driving you imagine what it would be like to drive your car off the ledge. Everyone was laughing of course, as however he'd put it was hilarious. I was laughing too, really hard. Very hard. Maybe a little TOO hard. Okay, I was laughing so hard I had tears streaming down my cheeks. It was like he'd traveled to the very inner recesses of my brain and just voiced them for all to hear. Okay, not the pushing-someone-off-a-ledge thing, but the driving thing. Back home there was a street near my house with a ravine off the side, and I'd drive by and wonder what it would be like to turn that wheel JUST a little bit.....I'd think about what it would look like, the landscape falling in the frame of the windshield. What it would sound like, the gate breaking, the metal scraping against the sides of the concrete slab. By this time I'd be a few blocks away before I'd finally snap back to reality. Sometimes I think about it when I'm sitting at one of those "T" intersections, what it would be like to NOT turn that wheel, to keep driving forward into the tree...bush...house...what it would feel like to hit that, to watch my headlights become more and more focused until they were two little dots of light.

I'm not quite sure why I do this, I've never actually thought I was going to do it. It's more like a musing, a fantasy. If I'm alone I sometimes continue with the trance, wondering what would happen afterward, would someone stop? Would I sit there in silence until I called someone? Would I get hurt? Need to see a doctor, or go to the hospital? Would it change the way I viewed the world? Would I look back on those few fleeting moments and divide my life into before the crash and after the crash?

I'm not even quite sure where I'm going with this, I have no direction, no point to make. Chock it up as a random confession, another tick to add to my growing list. Figuring myself out by turning out my insides.

Turkey Burgers for the Freak Eye

Phew! What a game.....well, what an inning. That's the funny thing about baseball, you could potentially sit through 9 whole innings and not have a single run. Entire innings of nothin' but a game of catch. Last night's game had 4 very um...uneventful innings, one ginormous one, and then nothing. For that entire 5th inning I kept saying "THIS is what baseball should be like!" and "WOW! THIS IS....FUN!" (with a slight question there at the end....). Once the 6th inning rolled around I was back to people watching though, as that can always provide some entertainment. An old drunk man ranting and raving 30 isles away does the trick...

I also couldn't take my eyes off the view, the backdrop for the AT&T Park is the San Francisco Bay, the ocean water practically lapping the walls of the park. As we were walking in to the field we could see several kayakers swimming around in hopes of catching a fly ball. Along the back wall of the field displays a sign counting the number of "Splash Balls". The view was absolutely breathtaking.

The only thing that would have made the evening better would have been a few mediocre, yet astronomically priced hot dogs.....

Oh wait......

Actually, and you may not believe this, I too was shocked when Caleb brought it for me, they had turkey burgers. TURKEY BURGERS. At a baseball game! The lettuce may have been limp, the bun a little dry, but it wasn't a hot dog. I shed tears of joy.

Like, so excited to be here....

Trying out the telephoto lens....one of them cars is ours! It's AMAZING.

Happy, despite my 1,001 questions about baseball

Happy, despite the fact that Caleb stopped answering my 1,001 questions after, oh, 3....

Happy, despite spending $57 on 3 hot dogs and a turkey burger....

And because Caleb has decided that we must take a picture of My Freak Eye everywhere we go.....

There you have it, Freak Eye goes to the Giants vs Mets game.

A little bit of this, a little bit of that...

Hey guys! Guess what?! I'm going to the Giants game today! In San Francisco! Wahoo! It starts at 7:15, and since baseball games last for like, oh, EVER.....here's a few little things that have been on my mind lately and / or freaked me out, in lieu of a real live actual post.

Still with me? Good!

• Hey you! Yeah, you Stay-At-Home-Moms! Ever wonder what you're worth? Now you know...

• And this pretty much haunted my dreams for a WEEK. Shudder....

• And just in case you needed another reason for why we LOVE where we are living now....and not so much missing Oregon....And I promise, this one has nothing to do with rain.

• And here's something educational, just to even things out a bit....Mystery solved?

Oh, that is like, SO San Francisco....

My cousin and his wife are in town for the weekend and we spent part of the day showing them around San Francisco. We love any excuse to explore that city! Especially on such a gorgeous day. How I love this California weather! We saw a clown breaking up a street fight (one man was dressed as a sailor and held a harpoon....), a half-naked hippie brushing his teeth by the river, no less than 10 people walking their Yorkies, and sampled an insanely wonderful chocolate bar at Ghirardelli Square. So yeah, it was a pretty normal day in San Francisco.

A few shots:

Beautiful Hadley & JoAnna!




This is one of our favorite beaches. Small, quiet, beautiful.

FINALLY

Cabe and I are in the process of trying to replace our furniture, since most of it is old and / or.......I don't love it. Or like it. At all.

Since we live in an area with (ahhh!) Ikea, we can slowly begin the process. We found a dining table and chairs that we really loved the first time we went, but soon found out that the chairs were back ordered. That was oh.....three or four months ago. Every time I called to check on it, I'd get "Try back in two weeks!", and "Try back in two weeks!", and "Um, ya know, why don't you try back in two weeks?". We weren't getting anywhere. They finally came in this week and we drove up today to pick it up. We were so excited we practically ran through the displays to the massive warehouse. That's the thing about Ikea....so smart.....you've got to walk through the entire store to get out, there is no going back! You MUST see the cute bedding, the fun little organizers, the cookware, the kids toys (for later.....I swear....), and the outdoor furniture before you can check out.

Sure, Ikea is cheap, but everything comes in boxes for "easy shipping" and uh, you've got to put it together. So a manly man comes in handy....

And look! He even follows directions! IT'S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE.
Oh, and Bear, never more than a few millimeters away...
Oh! And look! Basketball shorts! For the first time in the 6 or 7 years I've known him!

One table, one chair down....three more to go....

I.Am.In.Love. We broke it in by eating freshly steamed artichokes. I can't think of a better way to end the day.

The Weekend Blues?

I am a work-for-the-weekend type of girl. I spend the entire week counting down the days until Friday, and then spend the entire drive home hyper-aware of the fact that THIS moment is the start of the weekend. I pull into my parking spot telling myself that these minutes are precious, that before I can even blink it will be Sunday night again. I do this same thing at the start of every vacation, usually beginning when I'm packing. Right now I'm packing for my trip. It hasn't even begun yet. I've got entire DAYS of it all ahead of me, appreciate every moment.... It never seems to work because the next time I think about it is when I realize that it's all nearly over, and I've let another wonderful weekend or trip slip right past me.

This weekend started off no different, and I'm already wondering what I've done with my time. I recall spending a lot of it moping in bed, covers pulled over my head while Caleb pleaded with me to please get up so we could do something. It doesn't make sense, does it? Nope. It does not.

That's all because I was in The Mood. The Mood seems to come and go as it pleases with no rules as to what tips it off or abates it. Caleb knows when I am in The Mood because the second I walk in the door I drop my keys, purse, and pants, and crawl into bed. Everything feels better when I'm under the covers.

Also, no-pants is key.

Caleb hates the no-pants for reasons I don't understand. As soon as he finds them, usually dropped where I was standing right beside my bed, rolled down like an accordion to perfect circles, he groans, throwing his head back in an overly dramatic fashion, "NO! NOT NO-PANTS!!!"

I believe he's afraid he's foreseeing his future, a wife who spends her days pant-less in bed eating dry toast and Ovaltine.

Actually, that doesn't sound half bad, does it?

Usually The Mood is fleeting though, nothing a Chicken Dance can't cure. The Chicken Dance was created specifically with The Mood in mind. It's fool-proof, and I highly recommend it's usage. One Chicken Dance a day keeps The Mood away.

And stuff....

But hey! It's only Friday! Yeehaw! Right?! Right guys?! Come on......

Our favorite dinner...

And boy, were they good.............

Such a tough life....

After a long flight, many french fries, several wobbly steps, a little bit of dog-ear pulling, and a bottle or two.....he crashed.

I could spend all day watching this little guy's facial expressions, they are infinite and all-consuming. He has a fascination with his tongue, and I've actually seen him roll it, twist it, and fold it (....mark it with a "B"....it's ingrained, isn't it? I thought so...).

I think I just heard a little "ping!" in my baby box.....