Sunday, November 21, 2010


My life has contained way too much drama of late for my tastes. And it actually tends to make me asocial, because I try not the share the whiney stuff too much with other people. So when I'm not exactly winning at life that doesn't give me a lot of positive to share and therefore if you can't say something nice you shouldn't say anything at all, right? So then I don't know what to say, so I say nothing.

And I also really feel like my conversation options are kinda limited atm: my problems (that people don't want to hear) or my kid (which people probably hear too much about) or my jewelry (same problem as the kid). I'd say I need to get out more or get a new hobby but hello if I had time and energy for that I wouldn't have the problems and we wouldn't be having this conversation.

I think I may be extra gun shy about sharing my problems because I've had it get back to me before thru a mutual friend that certain people in the past have considered me a whiner. Somebody who bitches non stop and does not shut up. I really didn't care to think of myself that way so I've tried to make super extra careful that I only do my whining to super safe people and to still apologize profusely when I do and tell them that I appreciate them listening to me whine. In the hopes that I can keep from ever being called a whiner (for serious) again.

And so when all you can think is "X sucks. I wish Y" over, and over again it really limits your ability to think up fresh and interesting conversation starters. Especially ones that don't involve your small child who your world pretty much revolves around now days. And "Hi. How are you?" only gets you so far with most people. Especially since I'd be building a lot of new friendships if I wanted to be really social.

I am deeply grateful for the friends I have and especially for the super safe ones that listen to my whining. I really hope the drama can resolve itself soon. Parts of my extended family might specialize in the soap opera life style but I've never really cared for it. Boring sounds really good to me right now.

Oh well. As a very wise friend once told me: This too shall pass.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

This Life is a Test

I believe that this life is a test. A test to see what we really believe and what it is our heart truly desires.

And the test has to be a blind test. Because I believe in eternal progression. I believe that we lived with God before we came to this earth and that we chose to come here and be tested and prove ourselves worthy of more. Because the goal is to continue to progress to be come more and more like our Heavenly Father.

Now you don't get that kind of power with out proving yourself worthy of it.

Think of the Grand Vizier in every story you've ever read. Theres something about the staff and funky hat that makes them .... nutty. And of course, in the stories they never ever show their true colors to the face of the king/sultan/ruler. You can only see their true colors when they're on their own. When they think they're truley alone, then the cackling starts.

I think this is an amusing illustration of an eternal truth. In order for God to bless us with greater light, truth and knowledge we have to prove ourselves worthy of it. And in order for the test to be valid we have to be alone. Or rather we have to forget that we are never alone. We need to have that knowledge taken from us so that when given situations where we can chose right and wrong, our true nature is revealed. If we knew now what we knew then, that God is omniscient, the test would be invalid. The Grand Vizier never cackles in the master's presence. And he probably wasn't always a cackler. It took that little bit of heady power to make him show his true colors.

And whats worse, even though God is omnicient - we're not. And to be just, He has to allow us the opportunity to try and to fail or pass. He can't punish us for what we might have done if we'd not been stopped. Likewise He can't reward us for what we might have done if we'd had the chance. Thats not how the system works.

Imagine a promotion system at work where a brand new supervisor, with no outside input, declares who gets promotions, and who gets fired based on what they "know" the employees would do, with out ever having seen the employees work. Ever. Thats lunacy. Nobody would ever do it.

Likewise I believe we come to this earth to prove our hearts, to ourselves and to our God. I think that when we are born a veil of forgetfulness is placed over our minds so that we have no choice but to act for ourselves and to walk by faith. We're given the Light of Christ - that urge in the heart of every man, woman and child to do good. That whispers to your heart of a higher and nobler home and of joy and peace. We are tempted by Satan, who is jealous and miserable and like all miserable beings desires the misery of others. And we can chose for ourselves which voice we want to follow. To give in to temptation and follow the darkness or to remember what we once knew and follow the light.

The heart yearns for what it has lost even if it can't remember it. Its that void we all seek to fill and we all try a million different ways to fill the space. Telling ourselves that the void can be filled if we just get the next thing. But that void can't be filled by the mundane. That void is the knowledge that God lives and loves you. That peace and happiness that can only come through following the promptings of the Spirit and finding light and truth.

Faith is the first step. You take it into the darkness and discover the truth that there is light. You then have knowledge. Likewise every great explorer and scientist had to have a belief, a faith that there was more, that knowledge and light was just around the corner even though others thought they were crazy. And yet they took the leap and their discoveries made history. To me all truth is truth, whether eternal/spiritual or scientific. It all works in harmony. Theories can disagree but truth is always harmonious.

For the record this post is a completely separate thought train from my last post. I just had a bee in my bonnet.


Not sure how to say what I want to say.

I guess I can say that it sucks to get spoiled. To have your happy all you want and be thrilled with it and then have it taken away. Because you had your happy and it was great and wonderful and far better than even you had anticipated it being and then the happy went buh bye and its somehow worse now having lost the happy after been spoiled and knowing what the happy looks like. It creates a need and an aching want the likes of which you can't recall. All focused on the wanting and the missing of the happy.

This noxious desperation that was never there before because you know now just how spoiled you were and you want it back. Badly.

It sucks. Giant hairy elephant balls levels of sucks.


Tuesday, November 9, 2010


I'm a rather opinionated person when it comes to smells. For years I didn't think I was that bad because I've got nothing on my sister. I think that woman can smell a cigarette a half mile away. I'm only that bad when I'm pregnant. But I am a really picky snot.

What got me thinking of this was going perfume smelling (like shopping but with out the intent to buy) with Bre the other day. I realize now that I got spoiled at a very early age with perfume. Starting when I was like 8, our next door neighbor was a sweet lady named Cathy (she even spells it right) and she was a really exotically beautiful woman from some where in South America. And some what unusually, Cathy was a perfume model.

Apparently she has the like perfect body chemistry so every fragrance just smells amazing on her. Add that to the fact she was a knock out and she made her living modeling perfume. She'd dress up to match the theme of whatever the fragrance was and go to release parties for the big designers wearing their perfume and looking amazing. It was kinda cool.

And since she traveled quite a lot and had cats, she'd have us feed her kitties while she was gone and say thank you for that service with perfume! (It was a dang sweet deal). Sometimes it was just little samples but sometimes it was whole big bottles of amazing fragrances. The really expensive ones too.

And so from a very young age I have a remarkably expensive palette for perfume. My top 4 fragrances (at the moment) for myself are Givenchy Very Irresistible, Ralph Lauren Romance, Chanel Chance, and Estee Lauder Pleasures.

And its not just that I like the smell of expensive perfume, its that I really, really, really, really HATE the smell of cheap perfume. I don't know what it is about cheap perfume, if they use a different base or something but it stinks. It burns my nostrils and makes me slightly nauseous. Cheap cologne isn't quite as bad, I assume because the pheromones help to override some of my base dislike. But cheap perfume? UGH.

And I don't know how much of it is that the kind of people that wear cheap perfume feel compelled to wear a gallon of the stuff or if its just the nature of the beast but its always just so over powering. Or perhaps my nose is just particularly sensitive to that noxious odor. I don't know, but I hate it when somebody walks by wearing cheap perfume and it reaches up and smacks me in the nostrils. Or worse - if I hug somebody with cheap perfume and I wind up smelling like it. Some how that never happens with great smelling expensive perfumes its just the nasty smelling cheap stuff that follows me. Of course.

If it helps at all I'm this picky about how houses smell, particularly my own. Its one of my bed rock beliefs that when you step into my home you should either smell NOTHING or it should smell Good. Being hit with a malodor when you step through the door is not acceptable. Likewise, unless you actually see my pets you shouldn't be able to tell that I have them. That is the level of performance I expect of my cat litter and the cleanliness I expect of my dogs (when I have dogs that is, which is sadly, not atm).

If something smells funky it should be deep cleaned. If it can't be properly cleaned it needs to be thrown out. Sorry. Thats just how we roll in Momma's house.

I think thats why my least favorite chore ever is taking out the trash. You have to start by bending over the trash can so it can reach up and sock you in the nose and then you have to haul the stench with you, out to the dumpster which is just, horrifically malodorous and then you have to open the vile thing so the wave can nail you in the olfactory bulb with a wicked right hook and then heave the bag of trash up right past your face so you get one final wiff before it falls into the vile pit and you can slam the lid shut (causing another gust of nasty) and run away.

Yeah, for some reason I REALLY hate taking out the trash....

Saturday, November 6, 2010

More Funnies

In honor of my improved mood here's a bunch more comics but to spare us both I'm only going to include links and you can go look for yourself. I promise they're all worth the click!  - This one got me b/c I have SO had that dream where I'm trying to drive from the back seat. That plus I like to screw with peoples heads so I'll have to remember this one....  - This one reminded me a bit of my Dad. lol  - A shining example of why I think you should have to pass some sort of exam to be allowed to take the kid home with you from the hospital.  - *snigger* - So wrong its funny...  - Um.... so.... what does it say that I've done this..... with every guy I've liked since my freshman biology class in high school??? Mostly with the odds I'd get blue eyed children just to be clear... if that makes a difference.... - Damn! They're on to me!! - Took me a sec but I lol'ed - And this.... this I'm still sniggering over. - LOL .... oh dear....

The Darkest Hour

God really does know exactly what my limits are.

Its been the week from hell. And there was no end in sight and even though I did manage to find a road map to the end, the problem was that Mount Everest was in the way and I was already so beaten down I could barely take the next step. And so when Mount Everest showed up, I was really very ready to just sit down and cry.

And so today I spent depressed. All I could see was my Everest and I had no hope that I would ever be able to get enough mojo together to cross it.

And then I had a couple conversations that basically swept Everest out of the way and gave me a leg up and the support I'll need to make the journey.

Still won't be easy, but now I feel that it is possible.

I am so incredibly grateful for the lightness I feel in my heart at this moment. Truly, the darkest hour is just before dawn. I'm in many ways in the exact same place I was this morning, but now I have hope.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Me = Ray of F-ing Sunshine

Ya know the problem with eating is that if you feed your body then it gets snarky ideas like it should be fed regularly and then will protest vigorously in a few hours time that it in fact needs to be fed AGAIN. Where as if you just skip the whole eating thing for the most part the smarmy body just shuts up and gives up and leaves you in peace. Sure you might feel strangely tired all the time but as long as you keep drinking water you won't actually die. Well, drinking water and eating say, one meal a say, preferably a few hours before bed time so that you can just go to bed when it gets to be time that that uppity body decides it wants more food.

And no I'm not intentionally Not Eating, I'm just.... not eating. Mostly because I've had like no appetite all week. But then I'll try to tell myself "Okay woman you need to eat, cognitively you know the body needs fuel." And so we make ourselves eat even though its kinda gross atm (which is saying something cuz I'm usually a big fan of food) and in repayment I get to feel kinda nauseated for a couple hours until its time that the stomach starts growling for more food but honestly the last few hours has not endeared me to this eating notion and so I don't want to feed the stupid thing again and have it thank me by making me nauseated again.

Whole point of that conversation: I'm hungry again. Also bored. Also its nap time so I want to sleep but I have stuff I should be doing but don't want to because I'm hungry, nauseated and tired. And we ate in the hopes it would fix the tired. It hasn't but it has made me nauseated. This isn't how this was supposed to work.

Also I'm so bored, I'm posting random crap to twitter, facebook, skype and blogger at an unprecedented rate. People keep telling me to discover play dates and that sounds great except for one nagging problem: I have no friends with kids my kids age locally. Which probably means I need to go ask at church if they've got a play group going where I could go make friends. I know they used to have one but 'm not sure if they have one now.

Its just that the problem with making friends atm is that my life sucks right now and so I'm not exactly a little ray of sunshine and being all "my life sucks" is not a great way to win friends and influence people ya know?

Also contacting people to find out about playgroups qualifies under the category of crap I need to do that takes more energy than I've got atm. And also has the danger (this is mormon land after all) of, if there isn't a current play group going, being the one to suggest one is needed can get one volunteered to organize it, which would just me another thing on my guilt list of crap I'm not doing that I should be doing if I was really a good person.

No I'm not wallowing in self pity and a defeatist attitude. Why do you ask?

I'd get up to make a dramatic exit right now [read: wander off in search of a cookie] but that would take too much energy...


Because I need to laugh today:

I've forgotten just how much I really love the xkcd webcomics. Most of them are some of the most amusing, intelligent humor I've seen recently.

So you get to see a bunch of them. And I'm linking and giving credit and I checked their copy right stuff and its all kosher cuz I'm not sellin' nothin. :)

And this one amused me mostly because it reminded me of Susan Sto Helit (if you don't know who that is, please go read Discworld).


And then I loved this one because I was all "OH my gosh! I'm not the only one they've messed with this way!!" I'm driving down the road and freaking out trying to find the source of the noise and then I realize its the friggin song and I'm like "WTH???" I always just figured it sounded wonky cuz I'm deaf or something.... 


And this one just plain made me LOL and swear I'd *thwack* the man that said that to me upside the head. 


And if I were really a good person I probably wouldn't find this one as funny as I do...


In the same vein (heh, pun only slightly intended), I probably shouldn't find this quite so funny.... 


LOL. This one makes me glad I'm largely apathetic about the whole thing. lol 


Hmmmm.... He may have a point here: 


And I really could go on and post like 5 million more of these but I won't. So go check out the site and laugh for yourself. 

You're welcome. 

Its a vicious cycle...

So I'm currently so irked I've reached my limit with a situation and am ready to just say "screw it" and walk. The problem is that I've decided I can only really declare my final decision on said situation in a peaceful place. I don't want to make a decision like this from an angry place.

But right this moment peace is remarkably elusive. But I have to get the peace to get the answer. But the anger makes it hard to get the peace. You see my problem? lol

*Sigh* And so we must try harder. Which is annoying. Especially right now. When I'd like to fix things with a large mallet of some variety. lol.

Cuz honestly, I've got a client meeting in the morning, and the kid has already been up once tonight and I'm still so irked I can't calm down enough to sleep which means I may need to make an emergency caffeine run in the morning before the meeting.

So right this second more than I need the peace to make my decision, I need enough peace to sleep tonight. So I'm off to read my scriptures and attempt to find some zen.

Wish me luck.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

The Lost Symbol and What's in a Name?

So I don't usually do book reviews but I'm a feelin' another one comin' on. lol.

Also: I need a name to call the readers of my blog. Aunt Becky has the Pranksters, The Queen of Everything has her Queefs (yes, yes we know...), Toy With Me has the Toy with Me'ers. It all works. My blog name does not lend itself to anything obvious.

And so while I mull over different ideas, I open my plea up to you, oh ye readers of this blog - what will ye be called?

But so, back to the book. I just finished Dan Brown's "The Lost Symbol". That man is a shameless pattern writer. I mean seriously. I haven't  seen one this bad since I discovered Mary Higgins Clark in high school. The underlying plot for all of his Robert Langdon books is practically identical.

And *SPOILER ALERT* really you can't pretend to kill your protagonist. The  dramatic tension there is SO contrived. I mean really. Shakespeare yes, he kills everybody off if its a tragedy. But dude, you've done three books in the exact same patterns so even though it really looks like you killed our valiant hero, you've still got a couple hundred pages of book left and well, it's a Robert Langdon book. I know you're not REALLY going to kill Robert Langdon.

So that was obnoxious and contrived and would have been completely dumb if I hadn't been a wee bit interested in the science of how you pulled it off. Cool but I'm still annoyed.

I would have chunked the book at the wall in disgust and refused to finish it except for one thing - the man does fantastic research. It makes my little nerd heart happy the way he goes into deep historical research, theory, etc. And while he might get creative with the current science parts, all of his historical crap is accurate and fascinating.

Particularly this time because I know very little about the Masons. I know more than most people but thats not really saying much. So that was interesting.

But what really got my attention was his stuff on the history, and span of Apotheosis. I had no idea it was such a common and repeated belief/theme through out history. Kinda seriously cool if you have any idea why I think this is cool (why exactly I think this is cool would take several novel length posts so we're going to be vague for now). But I loved it. The man is like right there. He's ALMOST got THE BIG picture. Its one of the closest examples I've yet seen to somebody having ALMOST all the puzzle pieces. He's not quite there, but he's got almost all the edges and a few big chunks in the middle. Doesn't have the whole picture though and so it throws off what he thinks its going to look like when its done.

But it's cool. And so, contrived story aside, I loved the intellectual stuff.

If you like pattern stories and you liked the last two Robert Langdon book then go for it, but if he writes another one and I decide to read it, it will be for the intellectual crap and not the story.


Before I went on my mission, I was reasonably confident that the whole "companion" aspect of the mission was going to be a .... special trial. As a Mormon missionary you have to stay with in sight and sound of your companion 24/7. The only time you should not be with in sight of your companion is when one of you is in the bathroom. The one exception to this is the rare "exchange" (aka each of you goes to an appointment with a different adult member of the church who serves as your companion for a few hours).

And before I left on my mission I was sure theres hardly anybody that I'd want to spend that much quality time with. I was moderately confident this was going to be an ordeal to be overcome. So what I was completely and totally unprepared for was how quickly and completely I loved having a companion.

With in a few days of my entering the MTC (Missionary Training Center) I discovered that I could almost feel when I had lost my companion before I was actually aware of it. It was like all of the sudden the little hairs on my neck would raise and I'd look around quickly and the bottom would drop out of my stomach and I'd realize, "Oh Crap! Where'd she go?!" lol. And the peace was restored the second I caught sight of her little blonde head again.

I think thats probably part of why I was so fond of my taller companions. They were so much easier to keep track of in a crowd. lol At one point I was in a threesome (get ur mind out of the gutter, is just when we have an odd number of missionaries so they put 3 of you together instead of two), and they were both little tiny, remarkably speedy girls and I nearly went crazy trying to keep track of them at all times. lol

Thats not to say that companions weren't a challenge. I quickly discovered the truth of one of my favorite companions statement: you love all your companions, but about every single one theres going to be one little thing that makes you crazy. And so often it was something completely and totally stupid, but it made you batty none the less.

On the list of "stupid things" probably the dumbest was the sister who every single morning would make a bowl of some organic concoction and sit and eat it during our hour of personal scripture study. This in itself was not at all unusual. What made me crazy was two things: 1. with every single bite she would bite the spoon and rake her teeth down it and SUCK the spoon clean with a smack. Doesn't sound bad but in the morning silence, it was LOUD. 2. And then, after listening to that for 10 plus minutes, she'd reach the bottom of the bowl. And every single morning, she'd try to scrape up every last molecule of her breakfast with that farking spoon.


I am SO not remotely exaggerating. It was like "SISTER! You're going to dig through the bottom of the friggin bowl! Just take your finger and wipe the bowl and suck it clean! Heck LICK the bowl clean for all I care BUT STOP WITH THE SCRAPING!!!"

I didn't say that, but thats what I thought.

I had another companion, who would not be rushed. if you rushed her, she'd take longer. That was just her thing. And what could be construed as "rushing" was rather ... goofy at times. For example, should I manage to get ready to go before she did in the morning (which was most of the time), I couldn't stand quietly by the door and wait for her. That was "rushing". I needed to put my bag down, and sit. Now this was obnoxious to me because I'm lazy and I don't want to put down my heavy bag and go sit my butt down in a chair for the minute that I have to wait because the bag is heavy and it takes effort to haul my butt back up out of the chair. But no, standing was unacceptable. So I'd sit, preferably in the other room for the minute or two that I waited. It was stupid but it kept the peace.

One of my more vexing situations was a companion, who was otherwise very articulate, but when she didn't like something or was bothered by something, was completely unable to express why. Now this was a problem because with companions you need to be able to sit and talk and discuss things so that you can always be in accord. And it was so amazingly frustrating to me, whens he couldn't tell me why she thought/felt the way she did. You couldn't discuss and be won over by "I don't like it but I don't know why". And its not like she's claiming its one of those "I have a gut feeling that this is a bad idea." That I can respect. It was more like her panties were in a twist and she didn't know why, she just did. Which was frustrating.

Now to be fair, I asked around, and apparently the consensus from my companions was that the thing you had to deal with when you were with Sister Davis was this: Apparently, I'm always right. I find this vexing because to me, no I am not always right and I admit when I am wrong. But, admittedly, it doesn't happen often and I am confident in the knowledge I do have. So I'm not always right, just... most of the time. lol *head desk*

But I did love having a companion and a partner far more than I would have ever given the idea credit in the beginning. In fact, when I came home from my mission one of the single hardest adjustments, that caused me the most anxiety, was being companionless. Don't get me wrong I can and do function perfectly well on my own, its just that for the most part I infinitely prefer to have a companion and partner.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010


I think I may have found the actual limit of my brain to process inspiration, epiphany, introspection, change and plotting in one day. *shakes head quickly from side to side* Bllllleeehhh! Whoa. I've got that brain melty kinda feeling you get after cramming for a week straight leading up to finals. When you know its time to go do something else.

My mood right now and my mood this morning are so dramatically opposite that its hard to believe its the same day. I was so completely lost, and hurt, and angry this morning. I'm still painfully missing my best friend but I had a long conversation with my Mom this afternoon that lead to several epiphanies that finally lead to my seeing the light and a path and a plan that I feel peaceful about.

I realized that I am broken. I thought that I had given up trying to control an uncontrollable situation and it turns out I hadn't. I'd been making myself insane trying to achieve the impossible - to fix somebody else. And I can't. And I shouldn't try. So I'm going to stop. Completely.

I am going to take care of myself and my baby. I'm going to focus on healing me. I need to remember what it is to feel comfortable and confident standing on my own two feet. I need to be okay with me again. It would be much easier to run to somebody who loves me and let them take care of me but I can't do that.

And so I will stay in the place that I am at for the time being and I will focus on myself. I'm going to work my "how not to be a codependent head case" program.

I also need to feel the pride and security of professional achievement once again. When the economy ate my job, I used my pregnancy as an excuse to not try to find something else. Mostly because I felt like I had some how failed, that I didn't try hard enough.

I have a dream now. I want to make and teach jewelry. I want to have a studio. I decided by the end of my first full day at Vintaj thats what I want to do more than anything else and I'll do whatever I have to do make it happen. My first priority will always be Caleb, but with in the next 6 months to a year he'll be plenty old enough to benefit from a half day preschool which will massively free up my time.

And so I think working towards that professional goal, and focusing on fixing me, will allow me to reach a clear headed peaceful place where I can see clearly to evaluate my situation and make wise decisions.

Kinda massively sucks that I had to completely strip myself of my mental security blankets so that I could clearly see just how much things really do suck and just plain fall to pieces to get to this place, but I'm here now and its a good place. I'm just going to have to work hard to break the habits that got me here and keep moving and I'll be okay.

Growing Up

Somedays I think being a grown up just means they've successfully taught you how to turn your own thumb screws (envision a medieval rack with me here....)

I laugh every time I hear a teenager talk with relish about how excited they'll be to be a grown up and "get to do what they want". ROFL Being a grown up just means you have to kick your own a** up between your ears. And believe me there are days when I really, really wish I had the threat of my mother's wrath to motivate me to do the things I should do.

And what really sucks is when you have to face your own dragons. Sure you can run and hide and stick your fingers in your ears and pretend they're not really out there. Or better yet sit and talk about what you'd do to those dang dragons if you ever got the chance to go toe to toe with them (while making sure you never. actually. do.).

And there are some people who live their whole lives this way.... huddled under the bed with their security blanket, afraid to move. Change sucks. Change hurts. Change is uncomfortable. You can substitute "growth" for "change" in all of those statements. And we humans are nothing if not lazy beast good at avoiding discomfort. We're big fans of trying to slap a band aid on a bullet wound and pretending its really not THAT bad.

But the ultimate truth of it is.... its killing you. Whether you want  to admit it or not, its killing you.

And then comes the decision time, do you stay holed up, hands clamped tight to your bandaid or your security blanket or do you stand, rip it off, see what there really is to see in the bold light of day and chose to fight?

Sometimes the hardest strongest thing is to admit when you've broken. To realize when you can't and shouldn't do it anymore.

And then you realize that what you have to do before you do anything else, is fix you.

All by yourself you have to find healing. You need to learn how to be okay with you again. And once you do that, then you'll take another look around and decide what path you need to take.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Still Breathing

I'm doing a bit better today. I think I managed to make myself believe the "I only get one day to mope" thing for most of the morning which was positive. I'm doing better for the most part with the self flagellation. Not perfect, but better than yesterday.

Doesn't mean everything else is magically better. Just that I'm not actively making it worse. So I'm just focusing on the whole "remember to breathe" thing.

I have managed to do 8 loads of laundry today, and a fair bit of cleaning and organizing so thats positive. Just still trying to wrap my mind around the difference between what I want at any given moment with what I know to be the right thing to do. Its quite obnoxious.

Now if I can just motivate myself to clean the train wreck that is my kitchen we might actually feel that we've made real progress on the house.

And I've been irked to discover that the little cheapy baby monitor that I use so I can keep tabs on the dryer (b/c its outside and I can't hear it when it dings and it annoys me when my clothes get wrinkled) has died. Apparently 3 summers of arizona heat was just too much for it. The receiver I keep in the house is still good but the transponder is dead. Which means I need to make the trek to the big Walmart and go buy another one. At least if I can find the same model then I'll have TWO receivers and can keep one in the bedroom and one in the living room so I don't have to migrate the stupid thing around with me. Thats positive right?

I've quit the online game that I play for various reasons and now I'm faced with this problem: when Caleb is awake and I'm EXTREMELY limited as to what I can do b/c the kid is forever inventing new ways to maim himself with out constant supervision, I'm BORED. Because the kid is adorable, but now I have a distinct lack of people to talk to. SO I'm working on it. I should probably just start reading a new series or something.

At least the kid is dang cute. Today he was playing with the remote for the fan. He usually pretends its a phone. Well he managed to push the right button and the fan beeped and turned on and he like jumped and then stared at it shocked for a minute. And then he carefully placed the remote down on the pillow next to me and backed away slowly. I about died laughing.

Also be warned that I'll probably be blogging too much for a while. Mostly because the boredom leads to thinking which leads to blogging.

Dinosaur Cookies

So I'm not usually a "recipe blogger" but I promised a friend that I would provide a recipe for these cookies and I don't want to forget so I'm just postin' them here.

That said, the cookies come with the following disclaimer: I cannot be held accountable for what happens to your waist line as a result of having this cookie recipe. My mother once banned us from making these cookies because she couldn't stop eating them (we made them anyways and hid them from her).

Dinosaur Cookies

2 cups Crushed Bones (Sugar)
1/2 cup Swamp Water (Milk)
1/2 cup Mud (cocoa powder)
1 Rock (3/4 stick Margarine)
1/2 cup Smashed Bugs (Peanut Butter - I endorse crunchy for this recipe)
1 teaspoon Tar (Vanilla)
3 cups Grass and Leaves (Old fashioned rolled oats)

Mix sugar, milk, cocoa, and margarine in large saucepan over high heat. Boil for 1 minute. Remove from heat and add peanut butter and vanilla. Mix well. Add oats and mix. Drop by spoonfuls (I love to use an ice cream scooper for this) on to wax paper. Allow to cool. Enjoy!


I have such mixed feelings about the whole Twilight phenomenon.

On the one hand, I will admit that the first time I read the series, I loved it. I loved the raw emotional power of the writing, the way she grabs you by the throat and doesn't let go until its over. The way you feel what it is to fall in love through her words.

I was delighted and I was enraptured.

And then I started discussing the book with other people, and I met people who didn't like the books because they weren't terribly well written (I'm like this is young adult fic yo, get over it) and I met the crowds that FREAK over the whole "sparkly vampire" bit, to which I also respond "Get over it".

But then I hit the groups that can't stand Bella because to be honest Bella might just be a smidgen codependent. I mean the whole Edward leaves and she completely has a break down bit is definitely not going to win her any friends with the feminist crowd.

But by the same token, she's 18. Her reaction is very real. Is it the best and healthiest reaction? No. Should she get over it? Yes. BUT there is such a thing as "broken heart syndrome"; a person can in fact die from a broken heart. Is it pretty? No. Is it the kind of example you want set for your daughters? Probably not. But can you understand it? See it happening? Feel the pain of it? Absolutely.

Oh and theres the whole "She's deserting her friends, family, everything she loves for a guy" thing, which once again is not going to win friends with the women's lib crowd. Of course because this is fiction it all works out. She gets to have her cake and eat it too. She loses nothing and gains everything. Lets take a moment to remember that this book really is fantasy. Sure it comes at the fantasy from the "realistic fiction" angle but we're talking vampires and werewolves and happily ever after where you risk everything on a one in a million shot and of course it works out perfectly.

And I think the fourth and final book might cross the line from "Young Adult Fiction" to "Adult Fiction". I can tell you I don't want my kids reading it until they're at least 16. And also its been my experience that almost everybody I've talked to - if you are less than 20 years old you hated the last book or at the very least it weirded you out. If you're over 20 years old you loved the last book and thought it was absolutely perfect in every way.

So with regards to the books: Do I want Bella to do my parenting for me? No. But is it a fantastic piece of escapist literature? Definitely. Do I enjoy it just a little bit extra because the author is a Mormon woman? Oh yeah.

But then came The Movies.

And yes I know: Never, ever judge a book by its movie. And I know that with very few exceptions the movie is almost never any where near as good as the book. And the first time I saw the first movie I was okay with it. It was not as good as the book but did okay and was more or less as good as I think the movie could be... -ish.

Then came The Abomination (aka The Second Movie). They left out all the good parts, all the humor, all the character development etc. And all you were left with was pure, concentrated, teenage Emo Drama. *gag retch* It was like watching a bad soap opera. I don't do soap operas. It was just painful. And I swore that I'd never pay to see the next two movies in theaters on the grounds that I paid $9 for 2 hours of my life that I can never get back. I'll rent the next two on Netflix so I can shut them off if they're too painful.

I kept watching the The Abomination because it was a train wreck. I just couldn't look away and I kept hoping (vainly) that somehow it was going to get better. That it wasn't really as bad as I thought it was. And then it was over and I was left with the sure knowledge that yes it really was every bit as bad as I thought.

And so because of the lingering pain of The Abomination and the little twinges of my inner feminist weighing on my conscious I'm almost ashamed to admit it, but at the end of the day... Twilight books are still my dirty pleasure.