Busy busy

Well, HELLO there!

I just wanted to pop in and tell you what is going on in my life. Seeing as I am 38 weeks pregnant, that is pretty much what I am focused on. Come on, baby, come! I just went to the doctor today, and I am dilated the same amount as I was last week--a 3. Pretty disappointing to be exactly the same (I was hoping for, "HEY! You're a 6! Let's walk on over to the hospital and get 'er done!") but at least I'm not tight like unto a dish still.

Speaking of scriptures, Matthew 11:28 is becoming more important to me every hour. :P

So there's other stuff going on too...like how we're going to buy a house. Did I say GOING TO BUY A HOUSE?!?!? Yeah...as in, the biggest purchase we'll ever make in our LIVES. Tee hee hee. I'm so excited. And if you want to see REALLY excited, you've got to see Mike (he doesn't have a child kicking at his ribs and distracting from the monument of the occasion). He's PSYCHED.

Where is this house, you ask? Hunh. Yeah, that's prolly about the coolest part. If I step out of the house I am living in now (aka, my parental's), make 2.5 turns while walking approximately 50 steps (lol, now I need to actually count my steps out of sheer curiousity), I would be there. And so would you. The current owners have been in my ward off and on since I was a wee young lass--She was my young women's leader for a long time, and he was my bishop for a while there. I helped her run her dance concerts, and some of YOU probably helped them fix their waterfall last year (yeah, you heard right, WATERFALL!!!!!). Most of you, of course, won't know them, but for those of you who do, we are buying the Hunsaker's house, and did I mention we are excited?!? I'll give you more exciting details later.

Gregory's latest, by the way, is saying "yeah." He started on Sunday and it's adorable. And soooo much better than "no," which he had been using as an answer to EVERY question. I think HE thinks he's allowed to be two already. NOT. ALLOWED. But try telling him that! He is still obsessed with Volleyballs and Footballs and can kick, bump, set and spike. Hmmm...he doesn't get that from his mother. The other day he pulled this sentence out of the air: "All done sit on chair?" Where has my baby gone? He loves to go on walks and point out all the "tweet tweets" (birds) "woofs" (dogs), water, rocks, and cars. Today he started a new one: trees.

Anyhow, pip pip, cheerio and all that--I'm off to take a nap because I can and I need to :P Hopefully I'll get another blog in before the baby comes. Actually, I take that back, since I'm hoping he will come tonight, and that might be a little much. MWAAAAAAAH!!!

It's the END of the World As We Know It

All I'm saying is that someone I know can get through closed doors now. As of Wednesday March 4. This scares me not a little.



And in answer to all of you:
Thank you for your wonderful comments.
I am doing well.
I am quite proud that I posted.
Have no fear, that was only part one. Stay tuned for the rest of his vocabulary.
I was in the HBLL yesterday. Remember that one time that I almost graduated? I'm striving to remove the almost.
I want to hang out with all of you! I just need y'all to do the planning and remind me to come. As in, call me half an hour before. Pregnancy the second time around has been doubly worse on my memory and my energy...

....where was I again?

and HA!!!! I POSTED TWICE IN TWO DAYS! so there.

Guide to Gregoryspeak Part 1: The early words

As my child's translator, I feel it my duty to record his phenomenal verbal skills--before tomorrow, when I expect he'll be speaking on a fifth-grade level. I will do my best to begin at the beginning.

"Bah:" used in reference to anything circular, Gregory loves to play with balls. We often spend most of our day looking for/playing with the many balls around our house. A related term, "ehdeh bah?" of course means, "where is the ball?" This is often used to try to distract Mom or Dad from any pending undesirable task (such as bedtime) or something naughty. This phrase probably originates from Mom and Dad's attempts at distraction.

"Baaaah-bbles": this nearly two-word phrase is one of Gregory's favorites, and is one of his very first. He can be distracted from just about anything (including chocolate cake) by asking, "Gregory, would you like to take a bath?" He then drops everything (even balls) to run towards the bathroom, exclaiming BUBBLES!!! the poor child nearly had a stroke when we introduced bubble bath. His newest bubble tradition is to watch over the shower door and tell Daddy when to put bubbles in his (Daddy's) hair, and when to wash them out. He employs one of his first non-verbal communication devices along with the bubbles for this--the finger point. I should mention that his finger is very double jointed, making it all the more commanding and impressive.

"Oh???": this near squeak is to be heard whenever Gregory gets near a telephone, or anything "like" a telephone (such as an ipod, or a stapler). He has now progressed to using the full word, "hello," though most of his time is still spent on the second syllable.

"Gih JAH": "Good job!" Gregory is not above congratulating himself when he deems it necessary.

"Deekuhl deekuhl": "Tickle tickle!" One of Gregory's favorite games to play. We are currently working on not hitting--only tickling. My favorite is when he reaches out wheile we are eating lunch (think really sticky fingers) and tickles me to get my attention.

"Dadden!": used several times an hour to discover the whereabouts of Gregory's father. This phrase has progressed from the primitive "Dah" of earlier months. This is often his first word when I get him up in the morning, and is heard consistently throughout the day. The joy enfusing this word when Daddy actually comes home is heartwarming.

"Mah MAH?": deceptively used to mean, "Grown-up that is currently paying attention to me, I WANT whatever I am pointing at right NOW!" My sister Julia had a rolicking time with this one when she took Gregory to the store by herself. Tee hee hee. Gregory now usually only uses this to get his actual Mother's attention, although it occasionally is used for Grandma as well.

"Za-CH": also nearly two words, with the "CH" added on as an emphatic afterthought, this is Gregory's term for Uncle Zach. We aren't sure how he knows that Zach spells his name with a CH, since it isn't pronounced that way. This is used to point out Zach's presence, get his attention, or check up on where he is right now (Gregory goes through the list: Daddy, Grandpa, and Zach and makes me tell him where each of them are--over and over and over).

"Jah-SH": Another one of Gregory's uncles. We walked into Mike's family's house for dinner one Sunday, and Gregory's face lit up. "Josh," he called, and then proceeded to go and find said uncle.

"Jooooo-ihss?": anything that is drinkable but not water is dubbed "juice."

"Shah-cks": Gregory loves loves LOVES his socks.

"Shooo-is": almost as much as he loves loves LOVES his shoes.

"CAH!": the picture of our family at Mike and Lauren's graduation is not actually a picture of Gregory's dear loved ones. No, the first thing he exclaims when looking at it is, "CAR!" while he points to the tip of the red VW Bug barely apparent behind Mike's back. Cars are just that important. He was pretty excited about his Christmas present this year: a Gregory-sized couch decorated with Pixar's Cars characters.

"Jihsis": out of the blue one Sunday, when Gregory was NOT behaving in sacrament meeting and therefore sitting out in the hall, he pointed to a picture of Jesus on the wall, and said, "Jesus!" 'Bout surprised his mother out of her skin. Later at Christmas time, we received a beautifully framed copy of The Living Christ from Julia. She had carefully placed pictures of Christ all around the edge as a border. That in and of itself was enough to make my eyes misty, but imagine what my eyes did when Gregory walked up to the frame and began kissing the glass on top of every Jesus he saw. On a less sappy note, on this very day while sitting in the HBLL, Gregory pulled a Barnes and Noble giftcard out of my wallet (which he had in order to keep him occupied and QUIET!!!! oh, I mean quiet), and pointed at the picture of Shakespeare. "Jesus!" he loudly proclaimed. Must've been the beard. I can't wait for him to do that to real life people.

A Rough Patch

So I've heard when it rains it pours. I don't feel exactly soggy, but I do feel like every time the sun is about to come out from behind a cloud a new one rolls in and drizzles a bit. But in telling you this, I also get to tell you something exciting, so bear with me.

Coxsackievirus A16
It's the most common cause of HMFD (Hand, Mouth, and Foot Disease). I always looked forward to the time when I could send my child off to the nursery. I didn't realize the delightful range of illnesses that could be shared through that avenue.

Clumsy Oaf
This one time, when I found out I was pregnant with Gregory, I excitedly shared the news with everyone in my office (some of you may remember). When one lady heard, her eyes got wide and she told me, "Go fall down the stairs." At the time, I was horrified. I did not, however, take her advice. Fast-forward two years, to me carrying a diaper pail down the stairs and losing my footing halfway down. Apart from straining my shoulder, back, and neck, and giving me a bruise to be proud of (Lauren and I like to compare battle wounds...), the incident worried me. I kept replaying the aforementioned lady's advice to me. I am, you see, pregnant once again (that's half of the exciting thing I had to tell you). LUCKILY, nothing seemed out of order (aside from that bruise I mentioned) so we moved on. Also, the blisters all over my hands, mouth, and feet had begun to disappear and stop itching. The sky was clearing.

Playing Mom
My mother is a wonder. Her back is also a wonder, as it curves in all the wrong places. This causes a lot of LOT OF pain for her, and so she decided to get it fixed. Fixing equals cutting the back open all the way down, straightening the vertebrae, fusing said vertebrae together (I didn't even have to look up how to spell that--I'm so proud!) with a mixture of bone scraped from mom's pelvis (OUCH!), cadaver bone and some sort of paste-ish substance, and then attaching stainless steel rods to each side of the spine, and sewing her back up again. It also equals traveling up to Boise, Idaho to visit the best back doctor in the land. So that meant that I would be playing mom to my little brother while she was gone (that's the easy part--oh, did I mention we're living with my parents until the housing market stabilizes? We are.) and then after while she recovers for several months. Some of you may remember my earlier post about role reversal and my feelings about it.

Pain
It's usually something one wants to avoid, and unexplained pain in the abdominal region is generally a bad sign for a pregnant person. The morning my Mom and Dad were leaving to get her back "fixed" (please refer to earlier definition), I awoke with just such pains. Such that I was very nervous, remembering earlier stair incident, and wondering if I had caused a miscarriage. My 20 week ultrasound was scheduled for three days following, so I begged them to let me come in and do it early. All news was good: the placenta was firmly attached, the cervix was closed and the baby seemed extremely healthy. He also appears to be extremely male (there's the second half). So that is a very happy ending to a scary day. We need help with names, so please leave suggestions.

AAAAAAACHHHHOOOOOOOO!!!
The common cold has been the icing on the cake (I just hope I don't find any candles). I'm just sick n' tired of being sick n' tired. But if the ultrasound hadn't turned out as happy as it did, I could be a lot sicker, a lot tireder, and a lot sadder (close your eyes English majors!). So I'm counting every sneezy blessing and curling up in bed as often as possible. Except for early this morning when I couldn't sleep because I'd been sleeping all day and neither could my husband so we got up and played World of Warcraft all morning long and even still couldn't fall asleep but we finally did at six o'clock. Don't tell my dad, he's under a lot of strain already.

Anyways
I figured you would all want the update, and since you love me, and you're still reading this, you must not mind too badly wading through the sadness to find the golden nuggets. So thank you. I will try to be a better blogger so SOME people will stop telling me how bad I am at it.

A Happier Note:
Baby G (as we call him fondly) is growing wildly. As in a wild weed growingness. He also talks CONSTANTLY and we're able to pick out more and more words that WE can understand. Bubbles is one of his favorites. He also enjoys ball, uh-oh (which generally means he wants you to turn on the lights, which are also refered to as ball...), woof woof (which I believe is a noun as well as a sound effect), duck, quack, and thank you. We are very hopeful that that last one means he will turn out all right after all. Someday I will figure out how to upload videos of him dancing so you can all be accosted with the baby-ness which has become my world (which I love).

Mike is still loving his job at Omniture, where it sounds like he plays all day with the guys (haha, yeah right honey). They really do have an abundance of work activities though. How often does the office pay for TUCANOS to welcome the newest member of a team? Basically, when I'm done with my first job (which I guess I never really will be done with, will I?) I want to work there for the food. And so that the office will give me money towards the new formal dress I'm expected to buy for the Black-tie Christmas Party. Did I mention they rented Mike a tux? And Meagan did my hair, and someday maybe I'll put pictures of that up too.

Someday I'll have a house too, and then I can get a new couch like someone I just saw at Costco and was jealous of. But Mike won't let my buy furniture until we have somewhere to put it. It's a double edged sword being married to such a wise, rational person.

KK, that's all I got...and isn't it a mouthful? I'll work on smaller, more regular doses for you so you don't get indigestion next time. Feel free to come to my house for Tums if you need. I also have plenty of cough drops!

Well Hello There

Hi. My name is Adriane and I'm a bad blogger.

Hi Adriane.

Um, I would continue with the whole support group analogy, but I don't know how the rest goes. I'm basing what little I DO know from Finding Nemo. Apparently I need to watch it again too, because I'm pretty sure there's more to it than that.

WHY am I a bad blogger? I'm pretty sure that there's a lot of deep psychological reasons why I haven't blogged since FEBRUARY, but I'm only just discovering them, so you will have to be patient with me. First off, I threw myself heart and soul into something I wasn't ready for, called digi scrap design. Sigh. I've come to the conclusion that I don't have the energy, time, and mainly, the SPUNK to keep going with that right now. My obsession with that digital area crowded out my screen time with me blog, for which I apologize.

But Adriane, you haven't been designing since June...why didn't you blog then?

Ah. Right. I think that goes back to my fear of failure and my somewhat perverse subconscious belief that if I never get around to something, I can't actually fail at it--Right???

Wrong. You miss 100% of the shots you don't take.

Yeah, thanks for that. Besides which, I have this idea that everyone reading this blog (who are you kidding? Everyone stopped checking this sometime around April!) comes to be entertained, and expects me to be as witty, intelligent, and charming as some of the bloggers on my blog roll (cough, MEAGAN, cough, ANNIE) and do you know how witty, intelligent and charming my life has felt for the last year and a half? Diapers..spit up...feeding...diapers...spit up...feed the kid...change his clothes...change his clothes AGAIN. Sigh.

Of course, there ARE the beautiful nuggets of gold in my day that make all of the tough stuff MORE than worth it. And I can't tell you how much I love what I do. Really, please don't get me wrong--I have the best job in the whole world. I just don't think anyone else would want to hear about it... ;)

Since no one reads your blog anyways, why don't you just write it for yourself?

Ha. I'm getting to that. See, I've had a change of heart. I had a talk with a friend of mine too (I love you, btw). I'm such a miserable journal writer, that I had come to rely on my blog as the record of my life. And now I have a piece missing from February to NOW!!! And my poor son, who could have had that record of his life--whether anyone else wanted to read a blog all about my son or not.

And really, shouldn't this be for me?

SOOOOO, there you have it. I'm going to promise to be a better blogger, but you are going to have to promise not to mind all of my glowing reports about the cutest baby on the planet, with some tidbits about the handsomest man as well. I give you full permission to skip over whatever you want. Because this blog is for ME!!! (and I know you already knew that. I just had to assert my independence in order to get over my block. Deal with it, okay?)

In other news, I've been catching up on all of YOUR blogs! My goodness you've been busy in my absence! I can't wait to read further and of course, more faithfully. Thanks guys. If you ever read this. I appreciate you.

My Hubby...and Goodies

So, this one time, I am married to the most wonderful man in the world (sorry girls!). And now HE has a blog--you may have noticed his name appear at the top of my friends' links. He was required to for a class, but he's got some great writing and deep thoughts over that way. So check it out if you feel like your list of blogs to check isn't already long enough!

Also, the scrapbooking group I'm working with has gotten together to create another spectacular mega-freebie kit. So if you feel like downloading digital Valentines papers and hearts galore, check out my scrapping blog.

Change is Good

So they tell me. And I'm trying my darndest! That's right folks, I'm holding my very own "What Not to Wear". I've completed the easiest part--the hair. Yes my friends, I am the proud owner of an A-line bob. Shorter than I've ever gone (the bottom of the back is shorter than my husband's!). And HIGHLIGHTS!!! My first ever. I'm not sure if it flatters my nose. With that picture, however, EVERYTHING is unflattering...so I'm safe. Really, you have to see it to believe it. So come see, cuz I like it and I like seeing you!

So, I've solved the perma-ponytail. My hair will no longer fit in a ponytail--I HAVE to do it. I feel like I'm pretty okay on Makeup, but I would LOVE to have Carmindy do my eyebrows. But you see, that brings up one of a couple of problems.

Problem: I don't have Stacey and Clinton and Carmindy to fix me up.
Solution: I do have some fabulous friends with great fashion taste. I'm not going to make you pluck my face =) but I would LOVE it if you could send some style tips my way.

Problem: I don't have a Visa card that has $5,000 and my name on it like I would in the show.
Solution: ...nope. I got nothing. I suppose I will simply have to be frugal.

I'm a couple steps ahead of the people on the show, though, right?
Step 1: I KNOW I have issues. Admitting is the first battle.
Step 2: I KNOW what is wrong with my wardrobe. More than half of the stuff in my closet is leftover from high school. They were cute then (just nod and smile), but after years of washing and wearing, they are shrunken and shapeless.
Step 3: I am willing to spend a small amount of money to get high quality (read long lasting) pieces that are timeless and flattering.
Step 4: I know my problem areas. If you don't know what they are already, I'm not going to tell you.

So HERE is what I'm asking. I need tips. What are your favorite staples and where can I get some? Tips for camouflaging my particular problem areas. And I'm hoping there's a few charitable souls willing to come with me on my daunting quest. Will you come shopping with me?

Thanks.

Jumping on the Bandwagon

I couldn't help it when I saw this:

Unfortunately, it's for my scrapping blog. Go figure. This blog is high school level. HIGH SCHOOL??? This is worse than that celebrity picture thing...

=D

YAY! I'm FAMOUS!

Well, you know. Kind of.

So...this one time, I got addicted to digital scrapbooking. I LOVE it. k, so I haven't actually made very many pages.
*Rewind*
This one time, I got addicted to collecting Freebies for Digital Scrapbooking. Yeah...that's a little more accurate. Suddenly though, I found myself offering to CONTRIBUTE to a freebie kit. You know, play "graphic designer" for a few weeks. The kit blossomed into one of the most successful freebie kits on the web today--my fellow collaborator's blogs shot to the top of all the scrap-blog ranking sites. Anxiously I awaited my turn to share my own meager contribution. I stressed over the texture on the papers I designed (I never really got them right, but I ran out of time...) and re-designed the ornament tops again and again.

But today's the day my friends. As in, I was supposed to post around 9:00 so that everyone could snap the freebie up early. Because in Australia, that's WAAAY into tomorrow. And you know, that's just the kind of traffic these freebies are attracting.

*SHREEEEEEEEEEEIIK!!!*

I can't handle this kind of PRESSURE!!! I was LATE. I posted at like, 12:30 am on the day I was supposed to! now I'm going to get people commenting on how "its almost more headache then its worth, some times you girls don't post your freebie on time, some people have limited PC time and to keep going back to see if she finally posted gets a wee annoying..Then one blog says go here and nope its some where else. More headaches..." Because that's what happened on one of the other lady's blog...

I forgot to mention. This freebie...it's FREE for crying out loud! And we've promised not to take the links down. EVER! So for those who only have a wee amount of computer time, I will let them come back next YEAR and download it if they want too. AND I will apologize if I accidentally make them click a couple more times than strictly necessary to get this kit. Ah well. Scrapping wolves. You can't make them happy.

I'm over it.

What I REALLY came here to tell you was this:
I just put a real, live, digital scrapbooking FREEBIE on my scrapping blog (which I started so I didn't have to bug y'all that don't CARE about scrapbooking for heaven's sake).
And it would tickle me to no end if you felt like downloading my hard work and checking it out.
And if you happened to get addicted to scrapbooking digitally, then I would have one more friend to fight the wolves!

And don't worry. When I'm a famous scrapping designer, I will make sure to continue to write here. Because YOU are the ones that started it all.

It's HERE!!!

I just wrote this whole post and it got deleted. When you get to the end of reading it, you will feel my pain.

We have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink!!!!!

And on Monday the linoleum man comes, and then we get a DISHWASHER and a STOVE!!! But the most important part is the sink.

I've been meaning to post pictures the mess that is my "soon"-to-be kitchen. Soon should be taken with a grain of salt. A very LARGE grain of salt. Perhaps several, very distasteful spoonfuls of very LARGE grains of salt. Just for good measure.

Because the *goal* for completion was before the birth date of my cute son. As he just hit the five month mark (can you believe I've kept him alive that long?!?) I'd say the estimation was a tad unreasonable. Especially since it was going to be a "one day job."

You want to know the whole story? Well, you asked for it.

After hearing rumblings that the cabinets were sitting in Bob-the-builder's* garage and he was eager to get them out so he wouldn't trip on them, Bob called mom and said he would come Labor Day week (two full months after Baby G's debut). So Mike speedily moved all of the stuff that USED to be in that half of the room into this half--very crowded, organized (but only because Mike did it) chaos.

THREE WEEKS later, Mom told Bob about our messy situation, and he felt "really bad" but he couldn't do anything yet. Because he couldn't believe the electrician still hadn't come to do HIS job yet. This is the part where I should have said, "you know what? Forget it. Sorry, you don't get any money for those cabinets and we're done." Because I didn't realize how stinkin' GOOD we had it! We had a sink! And a counter!

Mom called the electrician, who was startled that Bob was waiting for him...and HE came over the next day to get a look-see. Being the good kid he is, his job was done within the week. this included doing the part of the job Bob hadn't gotten around to yet--he tore out the sink and counter. Which was okay, because the electrical stuff was done, and the cabinets were in Bob's garage, and SOON my world would be so much better!

Do you pity my naivety yet? If you've been doing the math, you realize we have TWO months to go...

The cabinets were finally installed..."Wait, we're missing one. OOOH, we weren't supposed to put that one over the fridge...ooops. Tear it out...put it over where it's supposed to go." "Wait, these cabinets don't line up at the bottom...who could have measured these wrong? Well, maybe they won't care..." "Oh, you DO care Mrs. Blackham? Well, we'll make a new one. I'll put a rush on it..." Right, like the rush he put on so they would come before the baby did.

But life was much better. Because we spent a whole Saturday putting everything from our chaotic world into those cabinets and rearranging the furniture, etc. Now all I really missed was the counter and the sink. Because you'd think that since we had a since upstairs in Grandma's kitchen, it wouldn't be too hard to get dishes done. Try carrying anything upstairs when that includes your wriggly son and three hours of sleep the night before, eh? So that's my excuse for the piles of dishes which would grow on our dining room table until every spoon was used, every plate and bowl coated with last week's dinner, and every fork filthy. Gross? DISGUSTING?!?!? Yes. I hang my head in shame.

But Finally, two or three weeks later (I lost count around there), we got a counter top. All we had to do was wait for the plumber to fit us in, and we'd have a real live sink again!!! So we waited some more. and more. and more. On Tuesday, Mom called someone that wasn't Bob's usual plumber, since the normal one was supposed to have "gotten it done by Thanksgiving" said Bob. Well, new plumber said SURE he could squeeze us in and we had a sink by the end of the day!

We have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink, we have a sink!!!!!

*Bob's name has been changed to protect the not so innocent. Not because I think he deserves protecting, but because I want to get the crown molding and new cabinet before we all go and egg his house...

Enchanted

Can I just tell you I LOVE this movie? All time FAVORITE right now. Thanks to Jamie and Carson (Mike's cousin and her husband, for those of you who don't know her) for introducing me to it. You guys are going to laugh, but this movie inspires me. Sigh. I love, love, love it! SO, I thought I would share one of the coolest songs ever from it. The movie works the same way as this music video--animated to real, and it is adorable!




Did you see how Carrie goes through making everyone's lives better? THAT's how this inspires me. I want to be like THAT! Someone who goes around lifting people up instead of bringing them down. Now you guys out there, you'll probably at least enjoy this movie--even if you don't ADORE it like most of you girls will. Mike and Carson both liked it (Carson even went to see it with us even though he'd seen it the night before!), so grab a girl and go see it. I don't want to give anything away, so I won't go to far into detail. But I love the way it paints the line I want to walk between fairytale outlook on life and cynicism. It's for the prince or princess in all of us!

Okay. That's enough. Mostly I wanted to put this music video on my blog so I can listen to it every day. They won't let me buy it on itunes without getting the whole album. =D

Here's Hoping You All Had An "INCREDIBLE" Halloween...

I can't take any credit though--it was all Meagan's idea. Poor Gregory wasn't too happy with us. He wanted his parents back, and he'd had enough of these weirdos with masks. You'll notice that I am holding him facing AWAY from both of us, because every time he looked up at me, he started screaming...poor kid. He got used to us by the end of the night though--phew! Doesn't Mike make a cute blonde? Of course, HE doesn't need a costume to be Mr. Incredible, does he?

This One's for Meagan!

I always knew my husband was a handsome devil...

Dream Come True

My girlish heart cherished many dreams. One such dream was that I would marry a tall, handsome man with an incredible voice, and we would star in all of my favorite shows opposite each other. Or at least, we'd sing all those crazy, quirky love songs and dance around our house. Well, I got the tall and handsome part--and a whole lot of other wonderful things too! But my darling husband had never even heard of a lot of my best-loved musicals--let alone seen them! I'm slowly but surely "educating" -slash- indoctrinating him. He has a great ear, and can remember most of the tunes and lyrics after hearing the song once. But alas, my husband is shy, and it's not very often that he jumps up and springs into song and dance (perish the thought)! He does sing to me though. He even knows some Westlife songs! But now my dreams have changed a little bit. And tonight, watching my husband singing my son to sleep (and Gregory was singing back--so cute), I realized once again that they have all come true!

Take THAT.

What can I say? I only get a little tired of hearing that my baby "looks just like his dad!" In all actuality, I think the reason he is such a handsome devil is BECAUSE he looks like his father. But let's defer to this "state of the art" technology (hey, it's free).

And the results are in:

So...the picture of Gregory does NOT really look all drunk/winkish when it's big. Just thought you all should know! =D

Sometimes Life Just Comes Too Fast

So...That's basically my life right now.

But This:


Makes it all WORTH IT!

Finally!!!

He's here! After many months of waiting and preparing, the cutest darlingest and a lot of other -ests has arrived to greet the world.

Finally he's here, and Finally I am blogging it.

So you can see him and talk in really high voices about how fabulous he is!

Maria wanted a pregnant picture--so here you have it--and I still had a couple of weeks to go!

Here I am trying to get Gregory's Room ready for him. Many thanks to the experts we called in (a.k.a. Meagan, Annie, and Sara)!

And now, drum roll please!!!
That's him! That's my baby!! I am bawling my eyes out because they just put my screaming child into my arms. Then I said, "Hi, baby!" and he stopped, looked up at me, and totally relaxed. Sniff, sniff. He knows me!

And here, for your very own, is a picture of Gregory Kayden Richardson
Born July 4, 2007 at 10:09 pm
9 lbs, 3 oz
21 inches long
Officially the most beautiful baby in the world

Torn.

My favorite kind of pizza is not a common, every day kind. None of this pepperoni business. I like extra cheese with tomatoes on top--fresh, raw, juicy, yummy tomatoes. Because who wants cooked tomatoes on their pizza which already has tomato sauce (i.e. cooked and smashed tomatoes) on it? My apologies if you are someone who happens to like that... If said pizza happens to have a Papa Johns crust, so much the better! Yay for Starving Student cards! It's not that difficult really. All they have to do is make an extra cheese pizza and add tomatoes after they cook it. Which is what I ask for. Alas, the message often doesn't get through. Somehow, my delicious fresh tomatoes manage to find their way onto my pizza before said pizza finds its way to the oven. So, I've finally changed my tactics: "Can I get an extra cheese, and then have tomatoes on the side, please?" Sure, ma'am, we can do that for you. Now that I'm married, I have to get used to being called ma'am--I can't be upset about it anymore, right? I got my pizza Saturday night--Extra cheese with fresh, raw, juicy, yummy tomatoes sitting right on top. Sigh. Should I be annoyed that they didn't follow my instructions, or delighted that I FINALLY got my pizza just the way I wanted it?!?

Hit me baby...one more time!

My bladder is a punching bag.
My ribs are a xylophone.
There are times my belly turns oddly angular in places.
Comfortable is a thing of the past.
My stomach is so crammed that I have difficulty keeping anything inside of it.
I wake up in the middle of the night because my body has been thrown to the other side of the bed.

But a wise woman once told me that I will feel a little bit lonely once I no longer have a living creature within.
And the really weird thing is, I believe her! I'm really going to miss getting kicked, punched and rolled around in. Huh. Whoduhthunk?

You don't even know it's there...

I just got a new computer! Wahee!!
Cuz of course, my old one blew up. Which is only a slight exaggeration--there were flames involved.
Anyhow, it's super quiet. It sounds like it's off when it's really on. I'm desperately trying to think of a funny metaphor, but failing abysmally.
The REASON for this blog, however--

Okay, there's more than one. First one being that I'm SUPPOSED to be doing my take-home final...and this sounded like lots more fun. So did reading everyone else's blogs...twice, and delving into facebook...AND...well. Just about everything.

But the REASON I stopped reading random facebook wall-to-walls and laughing at Kat's witty life was because I have been trying to get my computer to the way it should be. Which included deleting all of the dumb music they saved on here just so I would have something to look at when Windows Media Player came up.

But I couldn't delete Mozart. It seemed like sacrilege. And I needed to tell someone. So I thought you should know--I have one song saved on my computer. And I'm really not even a Mozart fan...

Pah ha ha ha. I just posted this and went back to WMP--because I need to add more songs, right? Only it's not Mozart. It's Beethoven. I feel a little better and a little worse. I think I need a pickle.

So...this one time...

I accidentally bought a car.

The day started out simple enough. Dad was having the priests over for breakfast after their weekly temple trip, and we were invited. I love Swedish pancakes! As the boys finally ate their fill and started leaving, Mom turned to me and told me that Steve (the Priest's advisor) would probably be the one who would find me my graduation present--a car (Oh boy!!!). Of course, I was very glad to meet him.

Suddenly, I was halfway up the canyon test driving the car he had just bought for a screamin' deal for someone else who decided to get a van instead. It's a forest green Subaru Outback in great condition for a very good deal.

We liked.
And now suddenly, I will have my own car. For the first time in my life.

Just like that.

I love deadlines.

I like the sound they make when they go whooshing by.

I just came across that quote, and it reminded me so much of myself that I couldn't help but blog it!
PLUS I was supposed to have my part of a group project done by Monday, and it wasn't done by then.
Why? You ask?
Well, there are of course, piles of excuses I could give. My favorite lately is that I'm pregnant. Get over it.
BUT
This assignment turned out a lot harder than I thought it would be. We are writing a narrative mime, which basically means a play for elementary school kids where everyone has multiple parts, easy lines, no pressure costumes, etc. My job was to write the storytellers' parts--basically, the whole story, keeping in mind that I needed to leave room in the story for the actors to say stuff.
Because, you know, that's an important part of acting.
Saying stuff.
However, as I reworked the story we had chosen, The Six Swans, life got a lot harder. I was trying to envision how the actors' lines would work with my story (I'm supposed to have THEM written by yesterday), when I realized:
The main-est character of the story cannot speak for most of the fairytale.
The other main characters spend most of their time as SWANS. Which don't talk, even though this is a fairytale.

Huh. Actor's lines. I'll get on that.

One of THOSE...

There are good days.
There are days that are rough.
Then there are the really bad ones.
You know, where you walk around with a cloud over your head and even glare at the beautiful sunshine outside.

Luckily the Lord sends friends to sit you down and discuss completely safe topics. Like spanking...and Thai food.

Thanks.

Happy Birthday Dear Blog...

It's been two years since I first blogged...sigh. How I've grown.
No really. Have you seen my belly?

But truly, that's not why I'm blogging today. My last blog wasn't as clear as it should have been. I am pregnant. So's you all know. I am having a little baby boy (probably named Gregory Kayden Richardson--the only part we're sure about is the Richardson...) on or around July 4, 2007. And yes, I am excited (that's the first thing everyone asks me).

But he's SO CUTE!!! So I wanted to show him to you.

I know Ultrasounds can be hard to decipher, so I've added my own special touches right above so you can kind of tell what to look for.
Awww! And he kept opening and closing his mouth...I think he was talking to me...

Oh, his darling little foot, toes and all! He's gonna have his Daddy's feet.
HUGE.

His little hands held right in front of his face. Poor little guy. No one likes a camera shoved into their faces. Except people on reality shows I guess. But at least they give permission first.

I couldn't do this one justice with the paintbrush--but it's pretty clear anyways. He's got such a cute little nose! and you can see his arms there too, if you look close.

And last but not least, something my little child may hate me for when he grows up...proof of gender.

And if that's not enough, we got a video! AND we get another one in 6 weeks because there's something they want to check up on. Double the fun!

Okay. Enough parental excitement overdose. You can all go back to normal and stop speaking in high squeaky voices.

Is this test Open-Baby?

Okay, kid--one kick, and it's "a." Two, it's "b."

It's a he.

Death of the perma ponytail

It died. I want everyone to notice.

I'm writing this because nobody HAS.
well, actually, one person, someone that has only known me for a month noticed...

Which is not to say that all of the people I see every day should have noticed.
It's just proof of what a perma ponytail can do for you.
When you cut 8 inches off of your hair and it's the shortest it's ever been, and you come home in triumphant glee, lightheaded and actually excited to do your hair, and your grandma says, "Oh, what have you been out doing?" And you shake your head so your newly clipped locks bounce around...and she says, confusedly, "did you get it trimmed?"
Perma ponytail.
Grandpa didn't notice either, although I proudly pulled the rubberband out with a flourish.
Perma ponytail.
I've been at work, talking to people, being my normal (although slightly sickened) self and--wait! Someone noticed! Lots of people noticed! Everyone is noticing.
Sigh.

I feel better.

Dear World,

You keep giving me funny looks, so please let me explain...

Why I am wearing orange nylons:
My mother, bless her soul, upon hearing that her eldest daughter would soon bear a child, excitedly purchased several gifts for said very grateful daughter. Included was a three pack of maternity nylons ordered from an online provider. What neither mother nor daughter knew (until daughter got to school, that is), is that these nylons have an intense orangey hue when seen in natural light. I swear they looked alright when I put them on (cursing the cold) this morning--although they were a little dark.

Why my dress is sticking to my legs:
I am wearing a slip. Cross my heart and soul. However, I have not yet bought a fat-slip to go with my new cute fat-dress. So my "baby bump" pulls the slip up too high, and it does absolutely no good. Oddly enough, this only happens in frigid temperatures. I have a suspicion that my garish nylons have something to do with it as well.

Why my legs are hairy while wearing a knee-length dress:
Well, you see, I had every intention of wearing nylons to hide that hair. In fact, I did wear nylons to hide that unsightly and rebellious winter tendency. Only I quickly removed them after my first class because YOU were looking at me like I was a freak just because my legs had intense color saturation. Plus, my dress was sticking to me, so I was walking around campus bent over pulling my skirt away from my legs to keep my hemline from creeping up to my waist. So now I took them off to solve two problems and it left me with hairy legs. Deal with it.

Why my heels are bleeding profusely:
I mentioned my new fat-dress. Said fat dress came in a new order of fat-clothes I just ordered. Did I mention I love maternity clothes? They are SO CUTE!!! Oh. But I digress. I bought shoes at the same time, and the whole package arrived yesterday. So despite the fact that they aren't selling wintertime maternity clothes, I donned a new dress, camisole, and shoes for school today. With nylons (under protest to my practical self) because it's pretty cold out there. Never wear brand new shoes for an extended period of time, world. It hurts. EXTRASPECIALLY when you've taken off your nylons due to funny looks from the general populace.

I apologize profusely for all of the faux pas I have committed in one single day--including leaving half of my school books in the bathroom where I removed my nylons. And for using profusely more than once in the same blog.

Sincerely,
Adriane

Addicted.

You know you're addicted when you can't get enough of something. When you don't want to eat anything--all you want is that something. When all you can think about while you are away from that something IS that something, and how soon you can get back to it and have more. So I guess I'm going to have to come clean. I've gone through four gallons of milk this week. I'm totally out and I'm going crazy! I don't bother with a glass anymore--I just walk around with my jug attached to my face. The in-laws panic and padlock their fridge when I come to visit.

Sigh.

Got Milk?

Best Week EVER

Well, maybe not ever...
My 8 o'clock class is canceled Thursday
My 9 o'clock class is canceled tomorrow
My counselor says she thinks they will change my major tomorrow
Now I can graduate in August
I qualify for a program where some nice people somewhere will pay for a bunch of my groceries
They just started a new grant, and Mike qualifies for it
I just scheduled my ultrasound
I'm on day three-in-a-row of not throwing up
I have way more energy than I've had in months
My husband is making me dinner twice a week starting yesterday
I work with the coolest people in the world
I have 1 and-a-quarter gallons of whole milk in the fridge for my enjoyment tonight

LIFE IS SO STINKIN' GOOD!

Blue, Gold, Orange, or Green?

"Some words that describe me are: punctual, practical, sensible, organized, stable, thorough, dependable, conservative, detailed, hear-working, solid, orderly, consistent, structured, positive, and reliable..."

Are YOU laughing? Cuz I am. I guess I'm not a "gold" person.

Streams of Consciousness

I try to turn on the shower way before I'm ready to get in.
It's coooold.
At night time, you can feel the winter coming in through the shower door.

When I grow up, I'm going to have insulation in my house.

So I stood there, like the proverbial frog in a pot, only I was the one cooking myself.
I turned the water up and accustomed myself to the temperature.
I turned it up more.
Until it was so hot the steam was billowing and my skin got red.
And I wanted to turn it up more.
I willed my arms to leave the warm goodness to reach for my shampoo.

In the mornings, I sometimes ponder odd things.
Like the amazing amount of toothpaste that makes it into my stomach even though I never swallow while I'm brushing.
And how I'm like a frog in a pot.
I guess I must swallow without thinking.
I won't tell you how I know how much toothpaste turns up there.

Oh wow.
My face wasn't ready for that warm goodness.

I'm going to be late...

I don't care.
But I kind of do.
What if my teacher makes fun of me when I come in?
It's the first day. No one makes fun on the first day when you are trying to find your way to new classes.
Some professors don't obey that rule.
Maybe I should get out.

I think I need to keep rinsing.
I hurried yesterday and there was still shampoo when I turned the water off.
I could hear it when I moved my head.
It made that soapy sound.
I hate that.
And it's a good excuse anyways.

How long have I been standing here swaying my head back and forth under the warm goodness?

Wisdom.
Taking a family finance class seems like wisdom to me.
Sometimes wise things depend on the situation.
A wise choice that comes at eight o'clock in the morning in the first trimester...
That choice is still being debated.

Someday the jury will get out of the shower.

Not for Everyone

When Mike does Sudoku, he makes funny noises. No really. You guys have GOT to see this.

And we each got a 'doku book from one grandma, and a 'doku CD from another. It's going to be a looooooong year.

In a Moment

I heard some scary news today from Chris Bailey, and I wanted to let you all know that I believe your prayers and support would be very appreciated. Remember our friends Holly and Jared? I can't remember their last names at the moment, but it's Holly who lived in 60. They were in a really bad car accident lately and are both in the hospital. Holly is going to pull through, but Jared is still not breathing on his own yet, and is still in critical conditions. Chris mentioned several punctured lungs and all sorts of scary things. At any rate, it made me stop and think about life and how fleeting it can be. It shook me up--if it can happen to Holly and Jared, it could happen to me. But I wanted you all to know how much I love you because you never know what might happen. And Rachel, if you read this in time and you still plan on visiting them in the hospital, will you let us know so we can maybe come? Thanks.

Huh?!?!?

How come no one has written a blog here?
Who's job is that anyway?


OOoooh...

America, America

I woke up this morning to my husband singing, "no estan gatos en America..." from An American Tale, only in Spanish, not the normal English. It got pretty crazy when he tried to sing it in Chinese...huh. But it did get me thinking about how there ARE cats in America--literally and metaphorically. AND the streets aren't paved with cheese. Which is why they last so long, I believe. BUT I think it's probably a lot better here than the mother country. God bless America.

My First Born

Jon's blog reminded me of a conversation I had with myself yesterday. I was thinking back over my life, and wondering whether I had ever even jokingly promised anyone my first-born child. You never know, you see, who will rememeber these things. Do you think Rapunzel's father thought that old woman next door would remember his promise? No way! You never know when ordinary strangers will turn out to have magical powers. So I'm pretty sure I never have promised any of my children away. Which is lucky, because if I have, I will most likely find out in about eight months when I bear my first born. I don't suppose there are any fairy godmothers reading my blog who would like to protect me?

Oh Tripe!

We are visiting on of Michael's baptisms. Well, HE is visiting Mike's family, and so are we. Yeah--he's the one you all remember from my wedding reception: long hair and camera happy. Last night he treated us to Vietnamese soup at a restaurant--it reminds him of home. Mike's dad was insistent that I try the tripe in my soup. I wasn't adverse, and started fishing around with my chopsticks while I asked, "isn't tripe a kind of fish?" "No. But try it first before I tell you what it is." "Um...you not telling me makes me way more nervous than knowing what it is would," said I. "You want to know that it's cow brains?" Oh, I thought, that's not so bad, and stuffed some into my mouth. I think you would have been proud of my chopstick skills. And the tripe was pretty good too!

Fashion Forward

I was trying to decide the other day, how I feel about some of the new fashion statements that I’ve seen around campus. Then I realized that they reminded me of myself when I was a youngling. Those lacy leggings under dresses? I recall one of my favorite outfits in Junior High that consisted of leggings under a baggy sweatshirt (I had much better legs then). Yesterday I saw a girl with leopard print pants that strongly reminded me of those overalls I used to have. I wonder if hers were fuzzy…

SEE everyone? I wasn’t 10 years behind fashion in Junior High! I was ten years ahead!

The Moa...

Dang! Who ARE these extremely sophisticated, supremely relaxed women?

So...this one time, three best friends went to the MOA. Such a delightful dose of culture and refinement washed over them, and they were left instantly smarter. Then they had a fabulously smart idea: why not have a girls night out? Soon, a night such as had been heretofore only imagined was being carried out. The girls were basking in the sublimity of cheese and chocolate fondue, purple face masks and parafin wax dips (did you KNOW you can do your elbows?) Not to mention the travel size microdermabrasion set and new Peach Smoothie Satin Hands from a certain pink-loving woman (no--not Erika. This lady is much wrinklier and older--in fact, deceased).

Juxtaposition of Worlds

So this one time, The Brigham Young University's Young Ambassadors' Singing Entertainer camp began. And it brings my past life out from its box in the closet and waves it in my face. I did that once.

It really was like a different world. In my opinion, a harder one--always competing for attention with every single other person in the room--all of whom seem to be better at getting it than you do...The hours of tiring practice squashed between the rest of life, resulting in 3, maybe 7 shows? Wanting that solo more than anything in the world (it's one verse, for heaven's sake) and being beaten out...sigh. Those were the days. It was quite the roller coaster, with fabulous ups that almost paid for the horrible lows. I loved it!

I look at my life now: computer teacher, toiling the day away to teach people how to use things that make working better. Who wants to work anyways? I get so annoyed with my teachers, I don't even want to know what my students think of me! I wear no make-up, and the perma ponytail seems to have moved in to stay. I go home at night and instead of going to a play practice, I try to dredge up the energy to make my husband dinner...unless I don't, and then he has toast or something.

I've been noticing the difference ever since I came to work here, but it's been especially blatant this week. Because, you see, I work in the KMB, where the bathrooms only exist in other parts of the building. The fastest is to cross the line (through an "Emergency Exit" door no less!) into the world of costumes and bright lights, loud music and laughter. My old world. Opening the door from the new to the old has been interesting. Up the stairs is where I used to come for voice lessons. Further down, the dance rooms that we used for Singing Entertainer, and that I took a dance class in. The bathroom even, where I used to change as fast as I could so I could get to English almost on time. And NOW, there are little thespians running all over the place. I look at them and see me (well, okay. I identify with the ones that seem a little out of place, I'll admit. The ones that don't have designer work-out outfits, perfectly done hair and makeup, and are maybe a little longer than necessary). There's even Alan Sacket--whom I had a crush on when I was 8, and seemed the epitomy of successful showman--who is a counselor.

I'll be honest, there's a little wistfullness there. But something that I've learned this week is that I like my life! It's different, and I like it! And who knows? I may live my old dream and be in Hale Center Theater plays someday. Or move outside Utah and start a family playhouse myself! I'm not done with the "more exciting" things that I used to love, I have just moved to a different stage. And if I'd continued with my "other life," who knows where I would be? Prolly not married to the most fabulous man in the world, happily muddling through a quiet life. The old world has one new thing to teach me--suddenly I catch the last part of the song blaring in the background: "I've got my man, who could ask for anything more?"

Happy Day! My Husband Has a Stomach Ache!

I know--can you believe it? I'm glorying in his pain...I'm a horrible person.

But wait! I have to tell you WHY he has been groaning for the past half an hour...

I made dinner. Yup. Real live, not from a box, more than one course, home cookin'. Parmesan Ranch Chicken to be honest. And he liked it so much, he couldn't stop eating! And he kept making noises like Mr. Collins (only not quite so annoying) while he ate it. Sigh. AND there are leftovers for lunch tomorrow.

Yeah...professional wife, coming through.

=P I wish!!!

So...This One Time...

I had no friends.

Wait! Before you start protesting that indeed, I DO have friends--that YOU in fact, really enjoy being my friend, hear me out.

So, I blogged about my wedding reception using one of my favorite pictures.

Nothing.

THEN, I blogged about one of the funniest-slash-most painful things in the world that happened to me.

Nothing.

"I have no friends!" I bemoaned every time I checked my blog. "Now that I am married I am dead to them all. I will never blog again."

Sad huh? Don't cry. It ends happy.

So Annie asked me today, "When do we get to see the comments on your blog?" "I dunno..." I thought morosely, "...when someone reads and comments?" So...somehow the moderate comments became enabled on my blog. We figured it out--AND how to fix it. Luckily. So now, all the comments that I thought weren't there really ARE! And I DO have friends that care that I got married and almost burned my legs off. Wow. I skipped for the rest of the day.

So, I wanted to thank you all for being great friends who care about me and check my blog and then comment on it. And apologize for thinking you forgot about me.
Oh...I'm still grinning!

Whoever Said "Beauty Knows No Pain..."

Or, Beware the Nair.
So this one time, on my honeymoon, I decided to try Nair (for those males reading this, it's a chemical product that removes hair) on my legs. I read the instructions carefully, and slathered some on my legs.

"Ooooh," said I, "that's a delightfully tingly sensation!"

Then came time to take it off.

"Wow...some of the hair comes right out! That's cool."

Then it really started burning. Couldn't take it off fast enough...says don't use soap, but I gotta use something! Ooookay...shower that stuff off...right...water makes it worse...lotion? More pain...tepid bath? Nope...crying in a corner? Uh uh.

So...I had delightfully shiney legs. Only problem is, they were bright red, bleeding in places, and the reason they were shiney was that the swollen skin was stretched too tightly. AND there was still hair on them.

I'm allergic.

There's More Where THIS Came From...

If you'll go to my wedding reception on Friday. Yeah, I know...you want to see my wedding dress. I would like that. But this is all you get until then! I haven't figured out how to translate this sound into writing yet...but Lalulalulalulalu (sound resembling a Thanksgiving turkey...yes, I am doing it right now--you should too). Now wipe the spit off of your computer, and come! It's at 6:30, with a "normal" (ish) reception until 8:30, at which point there will be dancing for an hour. I really need y'all to come so there actually WILL be dancing! =D 575 E. 800 N. in Orem (stop laughing!) You don't even need to bring a present. I just want to see you all there.

I'll feed you... 

A River Runs Through It

There are not merely large puddles in the parking lot shared by the JKB and the Talmadge. There is a large, quickly flowing body of water and slush. I finally decided to stop "avoiding" the water, and happily, albeit frigidly, sloshed my way through. It is actually a good thing that I am wearing these sandals, because they will dry out a lot faster than will any of my winter-ish shoes would.My tingly red toes free of socks are a blessing in my life.

Where did the Springtime go?

Stupid People

So...I did it. I made the switch. I am now...

Oops. Deja vu and wrong blog. I apologize. For this is a venting blog. A short one, because...well, you'll understand why in approximately 30 seconds. A mini-venting blog; it will be short, and with mini amounts of ventilation.

Ahem...
I stood here, waiting for a computer in the library (during devotional--they are a slim commodity right now!) while some DORK watched Strongbad's latest e-mail. Excuse me? Can you not read the sign on your monitor that says, "Please limit your time when people are waiting"?!?!?!?

And so, once I finally got a computer, I sit here writing a blog. Next to the girl who was in front of me in line, who is playing TextTwist. I am seriously tempted to log on to Homestarrunner.com, but I don't have my headphones.

I really do have a couple of good blogs percolating in my head. I just need to find a space where I don't need to "limit my time when people are waiting." Oh heck, why don't I just do it right now?

Early People

So...I did it. I made the switch (most) of the way. As I sit here at the library at 8 o'clock, I look at all the people around me: early people. So THIS is what it feels like! Huh. I kind of like it. My body is getting used to waking up at seven and being to school by eight every day. My favorite day is still Tuesday though, when I don't teach or have class until ONE. I generally sleep in on Tuesdays. Yummmmm. I love waking up to the sun on my face. Sigh. Well, I thought I was an early person. Ew yuck. The guys at the computer are early people..."I thought about sleeping in today. I mean, I don't have class until eleven. Then I thought to myself, 'get up and do your physics!'" "Yeah, I slept in today..." [what the crap? it's 8 o'clock and you're at school!] "at least, I didn't get up at 5:30." Only under extreme duress do I EVER get up at five thirty. well, over the summer I had to be to work by 5. I will simply look back on those times and marvel at my former strength. But really. I am an early-ish person now. Usually.

Lighthearted Stroll

So I'm supposed to be working on my research proposal, but I'm obviously way too lighthearted at the moment. Can I tell you about my stroll from the KMB to the TNRB that shouldn't have been lighthearted either, but it was? Thanks. I was walking along, drinking in sunshine (But the sky wasn't orange, oddly enough), feeling bubbly excited. I had just come from a Word class of awesomeness, where I was evaluated for a promotion (Diane says I passed her half!) and where my coteacher is none other than the beautiful Annie Jacob, who did a fabulous job teaching Autofunctions. I felt like my part of the teaching went pretty well (phew), and I think the class will be really fun. All but one person is on the same level, and I feel less bad boring people (she knows WordPerfect really well) than going to fast for them. It's going to be way fun. The sun was shining, the grass is getting greener (in time for engagement pics--yay!), and I'm getting married next month. Hold the phone, er, mouse--next month?!?!?! Wow. Gosh, I can't wait. Suddenly, I heard screeching breaks, and a horrific rending-of-metal noise. The car directly to my right had just ran into the metal gate by the JKB, knocking it down completely. Pah ha ha. Made my day.

Pretty pretty freezing cold blinding whiteness

It really was gorgeous. Because, you see, in Rexburg, it is so grubdz cold that the snow falling from the sky never melts and congeals with other flakes. So on top of the car is a beautiful conglomeration of snowflakes--each in its original, pristine, crystal form. Since every flake is individual, the sun sends millions of gorgeous sparkles bouncing off the ground, turning the surrounding, freezing cold countryside to a beautiful, blinding fairy-land.

Alas, I'm still not tempted to live there. Even mid-afternoon, the wind was suck-your-soul-out cold. Grubdz. What can I say more?

Dang it--Logan is almost as cold (but luckily at least two years away!)

I miss you Meagan. I was trying to explain "It's not funny if they aren't falling down." After I was dropped foot-long into a pile of said freezing cold whiteness (it was in a parking lot though--definitely icy greyness). That's all.

grubdz

That's what I just had to enter to post a comment on my own blog! It fits my mood, believe it or not. I am going to take this opportunity to vent. For any of you who would not like to hear any complaining, let alone Valentines grumbling, you had best stop now. Yes, that means you.

Obviously, the day started wonderfully. Yay for happy walks to work and fun Quickskills classes and Photoshopping a picture of me and my love and having it printed at Walmart and putting it in a cute frame, for to be a cute little fiance. I also managed to print off thirty copies of a letter and consent form that we are sending to 30 troubled high school kids that we want to play with. After that, things started going down hill. First, I...um...skipped class....because I didn't want to go. So I didn't. So there. THEN the notoriously late cleaning check lady was 2 and a half hours late. I had promised my roommates I would wait for her--checks always go so much better when there is someone here. =P I knew the second I left to get something done, she would come. So I stayed here...waiting. THEN I needed to drive to Walmart in rush hour traffic to get said picture for the man I love. THEN I got back and Michael and I headed to Tucanos. You didn't make reservations? Even after I suggested it? Several times? Oh well. An hour and a half wait is okay--we'll go buy our engagement rings. We come back. "Is this the first time you've checked back with us?" Duh...yes. "Check back in another 20 minutes and tell me it's the second time." Off to Borders...cute future wife saves the day! Let's read kids books. I show him Nancy Drew 1-56. "Guess how many I've read?" All of them? Have you read a lot of books? "Huh...self, are you sure you are compatible with this man? Yes, dear heart, I have read a lot of books. I thought that we'd been over this. Yes, I know, you pretty much have read The Lord of the Rings." Back to Tucanos. "Okay, here's a cool ringer buzzer thing that will tell you when we're ready for you." Hmm...I'm pretty sure that adds up to...a TWO and a Half hour wait...but, we've waited this long, might as well just read some more. Mike is getting into Harry Potter anyways. FORTY minutes later, we return to Tucanos. The place is even more packed than before. The girl is still telling people to check back in fifteen minutes and tell her it's the second time (yes, the dumbest idea for a wait system I've ever heard). Tensions are high (especially mine--I'm hypoglycemic and PMSing like CRAZY). I am about ready to throw the cool buzzer thingy at her head..."May I have your attention. Everyone with a cool ringer buzzer thing needs to wait outside." Oh...grubdz. Three hours was all I could handle. We left, and had our Valentines dinner at Taco Bell. At 9 o'clock. Now we need to go to Macey's to get ice cream. I don't want ice cream. Warning bells should have begun ringing. Bad things are happening when I don't want ice cream. Mike still wants something sweet. We go to Maceys. He gets two boxes of Li'l Debbies. I get a li'l yogurt. I stop in front of the cream soda..."I think we've splurged enough today, don't you think." Oooooohhhhh....apparently the hurt was evident in my eyes, but no. No cream soda for me. We are buying Li'l Debbies. Back at his apartment--Clever ruse to get Mr. Man back into his bedroom where cute-framed-mostly-black-and-white picture is waiting amidst a pile of conversation hearts. Not to mention the giant chocolate kiss...mmmm. Oh cute...k done. Roommates have decided to watch Corpse Bride, which means we can't watch the aforeplanned Little Mermaid (his idea, I might add--I think he thinks it will keep me happy, and he won't have to see P&P). So, my friends, I topped off my Valentines Day with a good dose of Tim Burton's death and carnage. After that it was time for him to go to bed, so I walked myself home. Nice one!

Please note, none of this would have been as bad if, well...I hate PMS.

That's all.

Oh What a Beautiful Morning!

One time, I left my house this morning. The fact that it was, indeed, previous to this moment is a wonder in and of itself. There should be a blog forthcoming on that...Anywho. The breeze that was blowing held the promise of a beautiful day. It was chilly, I will admit. Probably too cold for a denim skirt and sandals, but it was not suck-your-soul-out cold anymore. Right above the mountain peak, the tip of the sun was peeking out (pah ha ha--peak, peek), turning the top of the IPF to liquid silver. Slowly but surely, it rose higher in the sky, until it was playing hide and seek with me through the trees. The birds were singing and hopping about amongst the dead leaves. I walked along my brick path, the only person in the world--just me and the sun. I unbuttoned my coat. Sigh. It's good to be an early person.

Holy Moly!

So, this one time, I got engaged on Friday the 13th!!! We will be getting married on April 29th in the Jordan River Temple. When I figure out the reception details, I'll let you know. You are all invited! Hugs and kisses to you all!

P.S.

This is what the ring looks like. For those of you heart attacking over the fact that my wedding ring is purple, be calm. I'm a different fish, okay? Besides, amethyst is his birthstone, and diamond is mine (symbolic, huh? We didn't even think of that...). And plus, it only cost 7.00. We're going shopping for the real one soon. But I really still like this one.

Hodgepodge

K Fine. I'm blogging.
One time I heard a girl say, "my brain is tingling." I like it. I will prolly use it in the future
Mr. Jensen forgot to label his axes. And I was there. Pah!!!!
I'm so tired that I want to sleep from here until...early May-ish.
8 hours a week is a little much for a "just-for-fun" sewing class. I might audit, I might drop it. Oh, the possibilities!
I'm bracing for a tricky Semester--and most of my classes are "for fun." I'm prolly just freaking out because I'm trying to apply to the major and it's "taking a lot of energy." As are other things.
Sometimes I wonder how these ladies in Les Miserables managed to have a career on Broadway and be in one of the greatest shows on earth (as opposed to Utah).
Good news. We only have 99 days of class left. I figured it out on Excel (nerd!).
Pretty much this is as coherent as I get right now. Love to you all.