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...