Forwarding...

Hey! If you're still here, then switch on over to my new blog home, http://www.kimbanelson.com/. See ya there! Don't forget to update your lists!

Up comes the sun...

Every thing's broken. I spent all morning trying to fix it, and then realized I couldn't do it on my own. So, stay tuned! Things will be workin' fine in no time...I hope...ya know, it really helps if you know what you're doing. I mean seriously. It's almost laughable, except for when you're working on it for hours and all you feel like doing is curling up in a corner. Or under the covers, which may or may not be exactly what I did when I got home from work today. Apparently it was the solution, because when I woke up I had a nice little message from Typepad telling me exactly what I did wrong. From the very beginning. Wahoo!!!! Yeah me!

I think this will fix everything that's not working on this site. So...hold tight for a day or so. Until then you can still see this site at kimba.typepad.com.

In other news, there was a spider in my car today. I don't know if there is anything more terrifying, except maybe snakes on a plane. And we all know how well that turned out. (Actually, I don't. I never saw it. But I can only imagine....) I was sitting there at a stop light, minding my own business, ya know? I happened to glance down at the center console and saw a little tannish-yellowish THING. A little curious, I poked it with the end of my fork. (Oh, why did I have a fork in the car? Funny thing, I was eating my lunch. On the way to work. Cause I spend my lunch doing Tae Bo with Billy Blanks. Anyway, back to the spider...) So there I was, fork in hand, and I poked it, thinking, hoping, maybe it was some debris? But it wasn't. And it didn't like being poked. It sprang, alive and kicking, and scurried down the fork and the side of the console. My scream was so loud, so involuntary, I swear it echoed. I'm sort of hoping it killed the spider on the spot. I could be that lucky, right? The worst part of it all is that I couldn't move, I was buckled, no, STRAPPED IN with that thing. I spent the entire drive back to the office curved against the door. I'm hoping that by locking the door, leaving the car over the weekend, maybe it will just die. Go away.

Either that or spin a gazillion webs.

NaBloPoMo Day 1: Moving Day!

1st day of NaBloPoMo! The insanity begins! And guess what?! My new blog is done! That's right, I have a new home. I've picked up shop! Packed my bags, so to speak. I've been working hard these last few weeks, trying to learn all about my new host, Typepad. It hasn't been easy, and I'm not done making all the changes that I want (you might find that there aren't many so far...and you'd be right...but that's only because I haven't yet figured it all out yet), so please bear with me as I settle in. I believe I've mentioned that I have no idea what I'm doing, but really, I don't. So. It's going to take me a bit. It's just that, wow, it's late (or early, however you choose to see it...) and I'm um, a little frazzled. I have this huge checklist of things to update, things to add, things to delete, and it keeps growing, the list I mean. But I promised to have it ready by today, and so it is. Nearly.

So go check it out! Go on!

(comments from the last few days haven't been moved over...because I nearly cried when I realized how much work that would be. Forgive me.)

All in a day's work

So I'm at work, right? And I have the wonderful opportunity of contacting this guy to tell him that generally when filling out a three page form, you're required to, ya know, fill out the three page form. A name and phone number doesn't really cut it, does it?

(gets up on tiny soap box)

Excuse me, ladies and gentleman. For the good of the people, for the love of pete, if you're filling out a form, any form at all, for cryin' out loud fill the form out. Trust me, if we didn't need to ask you these questions we would not ask you these questions. And while you're at it, please have the decency to pause and consider that there may be someone out there who *gets* to decipher your hieroglyphics into some sort of sense. It's maddening, people. Maddening.

(lets out a breath, steps off tiny soap box)

Where was I? Oh yes, the phone call. So I guess which numbers to dial, is that a zero or an O? A four or a seven? and it rings. At least it's a valid number number, right? The phone picks up and then promptly hangs up. I redial, switching the six to a zero and nada. I try the original number (soap box....seriously....) and this time the ringing is replaced by a slightly familiar trickling noise. I silently pray that Mr. Can't Write and / or Fill Out A Form Properly is having lunch on the shores of a babbling brook and before my little reverie continues, the trickling stops. Drip. Drip. Fumble, fumble. Ziiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip!

Oh no. This is not happening. I do not get paid enough...

I wait semi-amused for him to decide maybe to answer his phone, and hear the sound of a door swing open (mental note: disinfect form. Now. And then go wash my hands...) and then Mr. Doesn't Wash His Hands decides now is an appropriate time to answer his call.

Sir Drippy:"Hello?"

Me:"Hello?"

Sir Drippy:"Hello?"

Me:"Hello?"

Sir Drippy:"Hello?"

"Mr. ******?"

"Yes? Oh, hi! Yeah, you can resend me the form..."

After hanging up I make sure to highlight all of the fields he needs to fill out in bright yellow. Both for his sake and mine. It will remind me to have my sanitizer handy when it's returned.

Caleb's Quote of the Day

"I mean, you can't get any further from the United States than Virginia!"

Sure can't. No suh.

Links, anyone?

Phew! It's been a crazy few days. Forgive my absence, and I'll get started answering your questions. First, sorry, I meant to explain NaBloPoMo, or at least link to it but obviously failed to do so. So. There you go. No you are NOT crazy if you haven't heard of it yet, because you just did. Just now. And there's still plenty of time to sign up and gear up. It's fun, sometimes grueling, a little crazy. You "meet" a lot of new people, which, if you're like me, means you're just adding people to your blog roll, ever increasing your Internet time. It's a lovely thing. Try it! We can commiserate through the writer's block together. If you wanted to get a little more help, buy this book by the lovely Margaret Mason (Mighty Goods anyone?). I bought it last year and have used it fairly frequently when I didn't have anything interesting (or so I thought) to say. The dog hadn't puked (or here or here) that day (what does that say when you search for "puke" in your archives and come up with like, 8 different posts?), or my little sister hadn't cheated in art. You know, the usual.

So, guess what? I played hooky yesterday. Hooky from work, hooky from cleaning, hooky from the computer....well, nearly...and it was fabulous. It was the second time I've ever played hooky, the first being Caleb's birthday a few years ago. It was a total last minute decision, and one of the best days ever. This time though, it was planned out, nearly a month ahead. H&M opened it's doors yesterday in our area and my friend Bridgette and I planned to be there. We just didn't know 9,486 other people had the same bright idea. We arrived an hour before it opened and saw The Line. It wrapped around the entire store and most of the way through the parking lot. There were photographers there, people. Photographers, policemen, and lots and lots and lots of women. And a few men. And one french bulldog. (No, seriously, I saw one.) Needless to say we didn't wait in line, but we did make it back later that night. It was still crazy. We walked around the store like cattle in a shoot, barely able to glance at this shirt, that skirt, before we were forced along. To sum it up, I will tell you that the colors for the season are black, black, black, grey, black, grey, neon yellow / green, black, black, grey, and purple. And everything in the store is some variation of $29.90. It was beautiful.

It was amazing how many things we jam packed into the day yesterday. Besides H&M, I slept in UNTIL 9 AM, we hit another mall and a few other stores, ate lunch, I trimmed my hair, went grocery shopping, Target shopping (yes, it gets it's own category) and had several hours to lounge around. What in the WORLD?! I kept glancing at the clock thinking that some invisible timer would Ding! signaling that the day was over, I'd had enough fun. But it just kept going. I called Caleb partway through the day and told him I could really get used to this, this whole not-working thing. It won't happen until I'm wrangling a newborn, but that will be even better.

And no, I am not pregnant. I know what you were all thinkin'. Not yet.

And counting....

One week till Halloween.........

And you know what that means......oh wait, you don't. Alright, I'll tell you. That means one week and one day until I show ya'll my new blog! (Now don't get too excited, for the nine gazillionth time I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm faking it. Fakin' it 'till I make it. Literally. ) It'll be just in time for my second year of NaBloPoMo, where I plan to redeem myself from last year. I tried people, that's all I have to say.

Nostalgia

Has anyone seen the preview for the new movie, Mr. Magoriums Wonder Emporium? No? Well, I hadn't either until we stopped in at Costco the other day to pick up...something I'm sure....we wandered down the TV isle, me behind Caleb so I could wipe up his drool, when it came on all thirty TV's at once. I was totally enthralled. Then when we were at Target a few days later to pick up...something I'm sure...I ran into this -

Apparently Fisher Price is bringing back some of their "vintage" toys for the occasion. I wanted to buy them all, but Caleb said something about how we don't even have kids yet.....so I only picked up this. But next time? I'm bringing back the Sock Monkey or the original Mr. Potatohead. Whether he likes it or not....

Sunday Stroll

Oh. Hi! I'm back! I've been working on this OTHER blog, and it's taking me some time to get up and running because, well. I don't know what I'm doing. I believe I've said that before, though. Just a few times. I'll let ya know.

Oh! And look! I have paragraphs! Apparently one day when I was messing around with the template I clicked the "Convert line breaks" or something. Don't click that, it's serious stuff. I ran across an explanation of it the other day as I was researching something for my new template, and literally had that light bulb AHA! moment. So the moral of the story is don't be all clickin' stuff in your template it you don't know what it means. Don't fix it if it ain't broken. And all that.

Anyway, on to the real stuff. Today was absolutely beautiful. The sun was shining, there was a little bit of a breeze.....ahhh.....just perfect. Here's a few shots from our Sunday Walk.

We used to take a short cut on the way home from elementary school that took us along a little stream with snake grass scattered on the bank. I used to love to pull it apart and them put them back together. This was growing in a pot outside of a cute little salon.

I love these little blue flowers. They were growing up a house.

A fun little downtown strip. Just as we walked past, the local Indian movie let out. I was standing there with the mutt in a sea of gorgeous women in their sari's. I felt a little um, well, like I'd just walked into Nordstroms with my Old Navy graphic tee on.

He felt a little lost too.

This is what Bear looks for the entire time. Cats. So we spend the entire time attempting to be one step ahead of him. The thing about Bear is that he has no sixth doggy sense. If he doesn't see it, it isn't there. It could be inches away and he'd never know unless it moved.

How fun is that? I love the little rocking chair.

I am so glad we shaved him. Bear, that is.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all about going all out and decorating for the holidays. But this? This is going to give me nightmares. I will never understand this.

This is another of Bear's favorite things to do, find sticks. Although this time it seems he out did himself. Just a little bit. I've got the scrapes to prove it.

Making sure Caleb is coming....

After eight different scrapes to my legs, we decided to make it more manageable. He walked the entire way home with it.

Yeah, I'm enjoying this lovely California weather.

Mental Image, or, The Inner Workings of the Male Mind

Recently I went to my yearly girlie appointment (that's euphemistic, isn't it?) and while I could go on all day about the crazies I saw and the un-hinged mothers there ("My daughter needs to have a doctors signature on her HPV test! Now! Now! No, N.O.W.!!")....well...I won't. You get the idea.

While it wasn't the purpose of my visit, after a few basic questions my doctor immediately prescribed me some pills that would remind my body that it is, indeed, female. It isn't normal to go over three and a half months with nary a word from Auntie Flow, unless of course you're me, and then it's yesterday's news.

Later in the day I was telling Caleb about the visit and the 5 Magic Pills I'd picked up at the pharmacy (with a $10 co-pay, those babies are $2 a pop!) to get me goin', if you will.

"Isn't it crazy," he said in all seriousness, "that they have pills to basically trigger an auto-flush?"

Bay Area Subway

Yesterday I decided to run some errands on my lunch break and after making a quick stop at Target (well, as quick as you can be at Target. I go there with a list of two items to purchase and every time I walk out with an armload of bags, dazed and confused, blinking into the bright sun....). I made an even quicker stop at Micheal's (I don't do well at craft stores...) to try to find a plate stand, and then decided I'd run into Subway before heading back to work. I walked in and made my way through the crowd of people standing by the register (Why Subway? Why must you put the front of the line closest to the door? Does this make sense? NO!) to go stand in line. As I was walking up I glanced at the man last in line. He was leaning rather seductively on the glass facing his male friend (operative word here...) who was seated. This isn't so unusual around these parts, except for that his pants were pulled down so low, his shirt bunched up around his hips, that if he'd decided to take an extra big breath his pants would have slid down to his ankles much the same way Kiefer's did a few years back. Though unlike Mr. Sutherland, it was quite clear this guy had decided to forgo underwear that morning. Quite clear. Unmistakably clear. My approach seemed to break him out of his Pose of Seduction, because he glanced at me and in two seconds flat he had his pants up, his shirt down, and turned around to make his order:

"Can I haf' white long foot please?"

Wow sir, you just made my day.

Gussied up

Our friend Mark travels quite frequently for his job. Recently he was gone for nearly two and a half weeks, which among other things, meant that Caleb spent two and a half weeks with Bridgette, Mark's wife, and myself. And Owen of course, but he doesn't talk yet so we won't count him. We tried to be considerate, but no doubt Caleb endured his fair share of Oprah, girlie magazines, and long in depth discussions about whether a fabric softener is really needed or not. This was made apparent last night during dinner. We were all sitting around the table commenting on the new dish we'd made that night, pork roast with pears. While Mark sat on the floor playing with Owen, Bridgette and Caleb and I discussed ways we could improve the recipe. "Well," Caleb said, "I think it would be great if there was some kind of pear glaze to pour on top." Mmmm, Yes, Wow, Bridgette and I agreed. We sat there for a few seconds contemplating that until Caleb put down his fork and groaned, "Mark! I need you here! Look at me!"

And while we were all giggling, it was true. Caleb had been all girlied-up. Whether he liked it or not. (And he's going to hate that I've announced it to you all, but I swear he's a manly man. He kills the spiders for me, takes the garbage out, and installs a new tail light cover on my car when I sometimes maybe accidentally pop it off. With a white picket fence. And stuff. Woops...)

24

Breakfast in bed. Book on tape. Lemon tree. Orange tree. Gift card to my favorite cosmetics line. A generous card from parents. A little spiritual enlightenment. Wrapping up in blankets. Shopping. Dinner. Numerous calls, texts, emails from friends and family (thanks guys! It made my day!). A new blog (stay tuned! Thanks Cabe!). A wonderful birthday.

Coming out...

I am going to be spending the day delurking. It's going to take a bit...but I shall succeed! Go on then! Delurk!

Timber!

I seem to have an affinity for passing out. Not on purpose, as we used to do in junior high (so dangerous, bytheway. Parents? Make sure your kids aren't as stupid as we were. We stopped doing that after a kid we knew went into convulsions.). And not just passing out in the comforts of my own home, but public places. Sometimes when I'm the center of attention. Here, a run down of the ones I can remember. I'm sure there are more. (Please forgive the spacial issues that I know will follow....)

1. I may have mentioned this one already, but I passed out while giving my first talk in church. I was 12, a new addition to our church's youth program, and locked my knees. Big mistake. I remember the words suddenly oozing out of focus on my page. I looked up and saw a sea of blurry colors, the clothing of the audience fusing together, but I wasn't panicky. I remember calmly wondering how I'd finish my talk if I couldn't see the words. Hmm......and the next thing I knew I was looking up from the floor, another sea of faces above me. A little reminiscent of the final scene in the Wizard of Oz, my parents and bishopric trying to hide their smiles. I immediately burst into tears, thinking they'd make me finish my talk. One of my best friends was in the audience and had also burst into tears, thinking I had died right there before her eyes. I wanted to a little bit, when I woke up.

2. I passed out and threw up after taking Tylenol with codeine after my wisdom teeth were taken out. Apparently I am allergic.

3. I already went into full detail of the incident at PF Chang's on this post. Enjoy. Just not too close to dinner time.

4. I spent my high school years working at Cold Stone. A fabulous high school job bytheway, and secretly? I sometimes miss those years. So carefree. Such a no-nonsense job. Anyway. When I first started working there my manager warned me about putting the ice cream bins carefully back into the ghia freezer out front (think the big glass window that houses the ice cream). One of the girls, she said, accidentally slammed her fingers while doing so and had passed out! What a priss, I thought, passing out because her fingers were squished? The ice cream bins are heavy it's true, but not enough to make someone pass out. Or so I thought. Just days later I was working on a busy night and went to restock one of the flavors. I dropped the bin into it's place and two of my fingers stayed behind. It hurt, and I quickly walked to the back to hop around and hold my throbbing fingers. One of my coworkers was back there and I remember telling her I'd just slammed my fingers and ha, ha, maybe I'll pass out! And then I did, falling mid step and into the wall. To this day I have no idea why that would cause anyone to pass out. But it does.

5. And ha! This one has to do with Cold Stone, too. Not to scare anyone off. I was working one Saturday with our manager (the fabulous one...hi Heather!) and we decided to get really ambitious and clean the INSIDE of the ice cream maker. We unscrewed the thick metal panel off of the side and deep cleaned the sucker. By the time we were nearly finished it was time for her to head out and I told her to leave, reassuring her I could screw it back on myself. The only problem is that the panel was big and I had to hold it with one hand so that I could line up the holes to get the screw in (sounds like I know what I'm talking about, doesn't it?). The panel slipped and sliced my finger wide open. And by wide, I mean wide. There was a lot of blood. I was alone, of course, and had to call someone to come watch the store while I went to go get stitches. I think I even had to leave my cousin in charge until someone came and I can only imagine how that went when the next customer came in. "Hi, can I get...." "No, you cannot get. Not right now." My mom took me to the hospital and they began to numb my finger to put in the stitches. I was smack dab in the middle of my medical anatomy class and so I was completely fascinated, watching the whole process. Or, most of the process, I passed out somewhere in between the little numbing shots. I remember waking up and being flat on my back when I was once sitting up. The doctor looked a little sheepish and explained that I'd passed out and they thought I was going to have a seizure. Lovely. Note to self? Don't watch next time. Lesson learned. Almost.

6. One day in college I was walking by the library and noticed a sign that said there was a blood drive going on. I'd never given blood before and thought it would be a great opportunity. I popped in, answered all the questions right (yes! overachiever!) and was soon lounging in the chair watching the blood slowly drain into their bag. At this point, after having passed out so many times and knowing the signs leading up to it, I knew what was soon coming. I tried to let them know, "Um, hello? I think I'm going to...." and there I went. They got about 80 cc's out of me, not enough. They brought me bags and bags of cookies and ten different drinks to choose from and practically wired me to the chair. I wasn't of the mind to sit and eat cookies in front of them, but there were about four different people who's sole responsibility had been to make sure I finish my cookies. I finished one bag and had to convince them to let me drive myself home. They don't like you to do that, you know. I was a veteran though, I knew I could handle it.

7. The last time, I believe, was a few months after Caleb and I had been married. For reasons I won't go into, I wasn't feeling well. At all. I went to the bathroom and curled up by the toilet, Caleb nervously watching me, and passed out. Of course. I remember coming to very slowly, hearing Caleb frantically calling my name. He'd never seen anyone pass out before, let alone his wife of mere days. It's okay, I told him a lazy smile on my face, this happens all the time.

So that's me, fainting extraordinaire. What affinity do you have?

Iran so far away

Finally, a copy of this digital short from SNL. NBC posted it only to pull it a few hours later for what ever reason, but here it is. Just in case you missed it. Wait until this is available on iTunes....






Caleb asked me why I didn't preface this video with an explanation. Not that it's my job to keep ya'll up to date on current events, but if you don't understand why this is funny (and wow, that would be shocking....), check this out. (I'm three seconds away from leaving Blogger....this spacing issue is making my skin crawl....)

Phew!

That masthead took me nine millions hours to complete. There I sat in my pajamas, bloodshot and bugged-eyed at 2:57 am last night.....this morning.....wondering if it was possible to strangle Photoshop. At that hour, anything seems possible. I spent another few hours tonight begging Caleb to help me and then grabbing the laptop from him the moment we made headway. Like, QUICK! PROGRESS! GIMME, GIMME, GIMME!!! And then that would be it, I'd be stuck for another half hour groaning and melting boneless into the couch while simultaneously reaching for another fun size almond Snickers. When I finally made a little progress here and there I was completely and irrationally ecstatic. Eyes a little too wide, big sloppy grin. I'm completely worn out.

Farmers Market Sweep!

The other night we decided to visit a local farmer's market and make dinner with the things we found there.
It was lovely and warm and smelled of ten different things. Warm Naan, roasting rosemary chicken, and home-grown corn on the cob .....

His pumpkin flatbread was delicious.

We bought an asiago cheese baguette along with his organic Artichoke and Walnut Cheese spread. Absolutely divine.

Beautiful orchids - someday I'll find out how to keep these alive for more than two days. Until then, I'm keeping my grubby little hands off them.

One great thing about living in such a temperate climate is that you can get most fruits and veggies all year long. Like strawberries. Or artichokes (I could live off of those...).

It was an excellent experiment, try it! Go on! Find you local farmers market and dig in!

(See my strategy? Insert pictures to keep the paragraphs apart! Genius! Can't last forever! Am still trying to figure it out!)

Ahhh...halfway there.

I watch this every so often when I need a break. If you haven't seen it, well, enjoy. It's hilarious. I heart Maya.

An Oregon Weekend

I spent this last weekend in Albany, Oregon, the town we lived in last. I went back to re-take the test to renew my CNA license. It was odd being back, driving the same old streets, stopping by our old apartment*, the smell of burning wood chips always there in the background. If it wasn't for the fact that my best friend Abby and her husband Brian live there it would've been quite ridiculous. It look longer to fly there than it did to take the test. All went well (I think...) and I should find out if I passed or not by the end of the week. So.....yeah. My stomach is slowly un-knotting itself.

(Funny thing about when I took the test, in between the written and skills portion I studied with a kid who had been in the testing room. During our random conversation he brought up a time recently when he'd killed a moth and said, "It was so crazy, it CRUNCHED." And I said "Yeah, I know, they do that." And he looked at me like I was deranged and said, "How do YOU know that?!" Like....it was so crazy that I knew that moths went *crunch* when you squished them. Is that so odd? Am I the only one who kills moths? I can't be. That's ridiculous.)

(*I saw my lavender that I had planted outside the front door and I thought seriously about digging it up and bringing it home. I probably would have, but didn't have a burlap sack with me. And I don't think that'd be considered a carry on.)

The best part about the trip was after the test, when we were trying to decide what to do. It was my friends last Saturday before they started school and so we tried to come up with something celebratory. One last summer hurrah. And in true Albany, OR fashion, we ended up at the local Heritage Mall. It was a totally appropriate way to remember my time there, wandering around the "mall", which boasts a Sears and Bath and Body Works. And a few other stores that no one can really ever recall. We played Glow Golf, miniature golf under black lights. We ate dinner at The Roadhouse in Salem, a lovely little grill house with peanut shells littering the floor, wandered around a few home stores, and then curled up on the couch to watch Oprah. And that pretty much sums up our year and a half there.

The really odd thing is that the sun shone all weekend long, and I'd like to believe that it was for me. It really is green up there, I'd forgotten how many shades there are. Even more odd though was that it poured buckets here in the Silicon Valley, the first rain since, I don't know, April? May? I don't even remember seeing a threatening cloud since then. I'd like to think this was some sort of sign, the sun that is to come in the near future, if I can just keep going down this path. Slowly bettering myself, dodging the blues. Keeping my pants on, right? Steering clear of the No-Pants. That's my goal.