First off, props to Hoosier for being the only one with the courage to write a comment on each of my posts. Comments - well, positive ones - are like the food and drink and lifeblood of blog writers (not to mention MOTIVATION!), and I especially love hearing from him :)
Secondly, I ought to tell you that I'm going to write the next series of posts in my bedroom at the end of the day, and then post them the next morning, which means that all the "today"s will actually refer to "yesterday." I could change the time on my blog, so that it would say that it would lable the post as being posted on the right day, yesterday, but that would be a LIE.
Soooo.....
Today we used the camera for the first time in a while, and I hope to do a picture/video post sometime tomorrow, probably entitled “20 fascinating facial expressions and poses of Edward.” Anyhow, it’s getting late here, and I’ll try to write about the day quickly before going to bed.
I got this morning around 7 am, and went outside for a brief but strenuous morning run—it had rained last night and the air was pretty heavy, though cool, so I had no trouble working up a sweat. After taking a quick shower, I ate breakfast—a repeat of yesterday’s—and read my scriptures upstairs.
I spent a lot of time in the morning looking at old photo albums, particularly those showing Grandpa and Grandma as youngsters, which I had never seen before. There was even an old torn, yellow clip from a newspaper with a picture of Grandpa as a little boy and winner of the middle school spelling championship. I had a bit of trouble identifying him and Grandma as babies, but was excited whenever I recognized their features. I also enjoyed looking at pictures of them with their family members, as I sometimes seem to forget that they both grew up in families with moms, dads, grandpas, grandmas, and siblings of their own, and I would like to know if and how their family interactions mirror our own.
Looking at the pictures of Grandpa, I was struck by how handsome he was, particularly as a young boy in overalls in the country and later as a soldier in Japan, and how cute and happy he and Grandma looked together (when at last we got through the sacrilegious pages of Grandpa with an old girlfriend—uuuuuuuuughhhh!). Their marriage of over 50 years is such a beautiful thing to me, and I fervently hope that I can achieve the same kind of warmth and exuberance which they seem to have found in life. I was also fascinated by the pictures of Dad and his siblings as kids. Sometimes, faded photographs seem to have come from another world as well as another time. But then I remember that the short dark-haired little boy in the photo is my living, breathing, 3-dimensional Dad (also, by the way, the most wonderful father in the world), and the cycle of life and all of its mysteries start overwhelming me. I end up feeling sad and curious and sort of lonely, or nostalgic maybe, for a past that I wasn’t even part of. It’s weird.
Anyway, sorry to get carried away, but that’s what vacations are about, right? (Carried away?!? GET IT!?!???)
Grandpa and I went on a quick trip to Wal-Mart, getting some lettuce, two pink yoga mats for Daniel and me (they were out of blue), and a new air conditioner filter (apparently Daniel had some complaints about the old one, which is next to his room). On the way, I got Grandpa to tell me a little bit about the personalities of his grandparents, aunts and uncles (well, not all of them; I think he had about 19—WITHOUT counting wives and husbands!), and mom and dad. It was really interesting and I’m hoping I can get him to tell me more stories.
Around noon, Daniel, Grandpa, and I went to Grandpa’s yoga class, held at a large church about 20 min. away. The class was relatively small—only about 9 people, in all—but the teacher was friendly and very knowledgeable, and I learned some handy new stretches which I had never seen before for making your toes longer and wider (comes in handy in the annual toe-wrestling tournament, I understand), and one for pushing your arms behind your back which I really liked. We didn’t get into any fancy ballet moves, so I wasn’t able to show off my perfect turn-out or ability to knock myself in the nose with my shin, but everyone was still quite sufficiently impressed with the fact that Daniel and I had even turned up at all. I didn’t mind being the youngest or most limber—the class was still tough enough to make me sweat and ache afterwards! We went about 20 min. over the hour-long class, but I think we probably needed the rest at the end. Afterwards, Grandpa managed to give away all the produce he had brought from his garden to various class members, and the yoga teacher talked with us for a while. We learned she actually used to be a Mormon at one time, and still had great respect for members of the church. It’s good to know that not everyone thinks Latter-day Saints are crazy!
Speaking of which, can I just mention how much I love the friendly people in the South? People who I have never seen or met before in my life will wave and talk to me or my grandparents as we interact with them in the grocery store, jogging in the street, driving past their houses, passing by them in a public building, etc etc etc. The downside is that it takes about 5 min. to say “Hello” to anyone you actually do know (even if the only thing you know about them is their first name), but, eh, I can live with that.
Back at home, Daniel, Grandpa, and I ate a late lunch at around 2. I had the same thing as yesterday, and it was every bit as good. After lunch, I looked at more photo albums until Aunt Shelly called and asked if I wanted to go bike riding with them. Did I!!
I haven’t been bike riding—I mean real bike riding, not just the exercise bike at the fitness center—in even longer time than I haven’t been swimming since before yesterday. So, apart from fear that I would forget which way to pedal or where the brake was, I was super excited about doing it. Since Becky happened to be out, I got Becky’s bike and Becky’s helmet, which fit me perfectly except for being about five inches too tall. Daniel rode Trevor’s bicycle (he’s the giant marrying our cousin Mary Hughes this November), and encountered roughly the same situation. Fortunately, Aunt Shelly—who seemed to be quite familiar with the need for and art of making necessary adjustments for the benefit of a relatively short person living with relatively tall people—was on hand to help us with any difficulties.
The bike ride was lovely. We went down a long hill about three times, and the speed, wind, and exhilaration was terrific. I enjoyed myself so much, I would gladly resolve to ride my bike every week in Utah henceforth, except for the fact that I no longer have a bike. Sniff! At least, if Becky doesn’t mind—or Mary, if Becky gets to join us—I hope to go riding a couple more times before we end our vacation here.
After the bike ride, I went home to read and watch TV with Daniel and Grandma until Joseph, Kirsti, and Edward showed up. And show up they did! Edward positively dripped with cuteness and seemed inordinately cheerful for having just undergone an 8-hour car trip. Kirsti and Joseph looked ridiculous in their matching sets of toe-shaped flippers.
We ate dinner at the Hughes, and it was, as expected, the highlight of the day. At least four different kinds of pizza—cheese, pepperoni, olive, and one with everything, which was the most popular—all homemade by Aunt Shelly, with cantaloupe, carrots, broccoli, and cucumbers with ranch dressing for a salad. To top it off, we had generous portions of Grandma’s world-famous blueberry cake with vanilla ice cream. Seriously, it was like living in a Redwall book tonight, folks.
After dinner, we diverged from our usual after-dinner activity (sitting around at the table for another 45 min, talking about…whatever) to stare at and take pictures of and make noises with and find toys for Edward, who was certainly the star of the evening. He was surprisingly well-behaved and active, and kept us all entranced with his cute little noises, dance-like movements (Grandma calls these “the fancy pants dance”), and tentative wide-eyed half-smile facial expressions. Such a cutie!
After Edward went home, Julie, Becky, and I went to the loft to watch Cheaper by the Dozen. It was fun, but not enough to inspire me to hope for a dozen kids. Six is perfectly fine.
Well, time to sign off! Look for a picture post sometime tomorrow...
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Friday, July 31, 2009
Happy Thursday
First of all, a couple of reasons why I am lovin’ the humidity out here:
1. You don’t have to dry off after taking a shower.
2. It takes 3 minutes (tops!) to blow dry your hair (if your hair is brown, over a foot long, and belongs to my head).
3. You have a warm security blanket around you at all times – it’s like snuggling up with a blanket on the couch, only in summer instead of winter!
4. Soft skin – I haven’t had to use my Curel once yet!5. Raindrops falling outside my window and on the roof…it’s such a lovely sound.
6. I no longer feel the need to drink 15 glasses of water a day! I don’t know if that’s related or not, but I’m pretending I do and that it is.
We had a wonderful day today. Despite staying up pretty late (we’ll just say well past midnight), Daniel and I both got up between 6 and 6:30 am (which is between 5 and 5:30 am in Utah time—so there!). Daniel went with Grandpa and Samson for a morning walk/trash picking excursion, and I went for a 30 min. jog, seeing many beautiful houses, trees, lawns, and a couple of cute squirrels along the way.
Back at home, I took a quick shower and ate breakfast with Grandma and Daniel while Grandpa read the paper. I had orange juice, oatmeal with blueberries and bananas, and a delicious peach—the best I’ve tasted all year!
After breakfast, Daniel and I went upstairs to read our scriptures, and both ended up falling asleep again, but Grandma woke us up before 10:30 to get going with Grandpa to their local rec center. Grandpa bought us some visitor’s passes, and gave us the grand tour of their weight room, swimming pool, tennis courts, yoga room, play room, janitor’s closet, and…well, you get the idea. He seemed to know quite a few people in the gym, and was happy to introduce us to each and every one. I was glad the gym was a small one, as Grandpa seemed determined to introduce us to almost every piece of equipment inside, in a fashion such as I would imagine one would introduce the alphabet to a 5-year old. This despite the fact that—alas—after 3 years of navigating the inner labyrinths of at least 3 gyms, I am well aware of the function and title of almost every pain-provoking machine, and even of the appropriate accompanying amount of emotional adrenaline, fear, resentment, or anticipation.
At last, Grandpa went into the weight room/cardio room (I hate it when they’re combined, but what can one do?), and Daniel and I changed into our swimsuits and went to the indoor pool. The bigger section was about 50 meters long and 25 meters wide, and divided into 8 or so laps. However, only 4/5 of them were open for swimming. The rest were polluted by an ancient spell cast by an underwater demon. Oops, been reading too much Fablehaven. Actually, they were closed because a sign and a lifeguard Daniel asked said so. Anyway, fortunately, the pool was not crowded at all, and eventually Daniel and I both got lanes to ourselves. I swam my usual 18 laps of mixed strokes, and enjoyed doing a few special water-stretches and activities between. I believe this was the first time I’ve gone swimming all year, and I enjoyed it so much that I’ve resolved to go swimming at least once every week when I get back to Utah. It takes a lot of time and can be crowded, but I’d forgotten how much fun it is! Anyway, it’s always good to vary your type of exercise so your body doesn’t get too accustomed to just doing the same thing over and over. Speaking of which, Aunt Shelly is taking me for a bike ride tomorrow, also the first time I’ll have been on a (non-stationary) bike this year! Whoopee for change!
After swimming and showering and fooling around with Grandpa (he came in and told the lifeguard that we were his grandchildren, and not to let us drown…), we drove home. I washed my hair, and then ate lunch—a lovely bacon/tomato/lettuce/cheese sandwich with Grandma’s homemade bread.
After lunch, I did a lot of reading on my bed (I can tell already that I’m going to be pretty depressed between the time that I finish the 4th book in this series and that the 5th book comes out), and watched one of my new Best Picture movies from the collection Dad got me for my birthday. This one was the Best Picture winner from 1954, the year Mom and Dad were born. It’s called On the Waterfront, and was definitely winning material. Great cast, great story, lots of believability and tense situations, some touching bits of tragedy and parallelism, a triumphant ending and love/goodness/decency conquers all. It was especially nice to watch the main character change from an aimless, lazy, irresponsible bum to a courageous, independent, moral freeman. I would definitely watch it again, ideally with Kleenex and ice cream.
I went over to Aunt Shelly’s in the late afternoon, and talked with her and helped to fix some green beans which Daniel and Andy had picked from their garden. Daniel was teaching Andy some chess strategies, but I believe they had already played MarioKart for the allotted hour of the day. I was not too sad to have missed out, I must say. Eventually Uncle Billy, Grandma, and Grandpa joined us for dinner, which was beyond fabulous. We had sweet potato French fries (which I absolutely loved!), squash and green beans, and what appeared to be giant hot dogs, but were called bratwursts by those-who-knew. I had a big fat turkey one, and it made every hot dog I had ever tasted pale in comparison. By the way, be prepared to read a lot about meals in my account of our vacation—Southern dinners with our relatives in Tennessee are pretty much the stuff of legend in the Miller family.
After dinner, we talked for a long time, as you may expect, and had dessert, which was cold banana bread with chocolate chips—very chewy and yummy, though I had to drink a lot of water to keep from getting thirsty.
After another half hour or so of talking about…whatever, we ended up playing Catchphrase in the Hughes’ living room, with Daniel/me/Uncle Billy/Aunt Shelly on one time, and Gma/Gpa/Andy/Becky on another. We played three games, and our team won all of them, though the last game was close enough to be settled by a matchpoint. Very intense. Julie came home when we were winding up, and we talked for a little bit while the boys played pool. She had to do two presentations in the past two days, and seemed happy to be done with them.
At last, around 9 pm, Daniel and I headed out, and we’re now stalling before bed time by reading, checking our email, watching TV, and writing long blog posts. I’m actually impressed that I finished this in less than half an hour.
We’re looking forward to tomorrow—yoga class with Grandpa at noon, bike ride with Aunt Shelly, and we get to see Edward, Joseph, and Kirsti! Plus another one of those infamous Southern dinners—I’ve heard rumors with the word “pizza” in them, but nothing more…
1. You don’t have to dry off after taking a shower.
2. It takes 3 minutes (tops!) to blow dry your hair (if your hair is brown, over a foot long, and belongs to my head).
3. You have a warm security blanket around you at all times – it’s like snuggling up with a blanket on the couch, only in summer instead of winter!
4. Soft skin – I haven’t had to use my Curel once yet!5. Raindrops falling outside my window and on the roof…it’s such a lovely sound.
6. I no longer feel the need to drink 15 glasses of water a day! I don’t know if that’s related or not, but I’m pretending I do and that it is.
We had a wonderful day today. Despite staying up pretty late (we’ll just say well past midnight), Daniel and I both got up between 6 and 6:30 am (which is between 5 and 5:30 am in Utah time—so there!). Daniel went with Grandpa and Samson for a morning walk/trash picking excursion, and I went for a 30 min. jog, seeing many beautiful houses, trees, lawns, and a couple of cute squirrels along the way.
Back at home, I took a quick shower and ate breakfast with Grandma and Daniel while Grandpa read the paper. I had orange juice, oatmeal with blueberries and bananas, and a delicious peach—the best I’ve tasted all year!
After breakfast, Daniel and I went upstairs to read our scriptures, and both ended up falling asleep again, but Grandma woke us up before 10:30 to get going with Grandpa to their local rec center. Grandpa bought us some visitor’s passes, and gave us the grand tour of their weight room, swimming pool, tennis courts, yoga room, play room, janitor’s closet, and…well, you get the idea. He seemed to know quite a few people in the gym, and was happy to introduce us to each and every one. I was glad the gym was a small one, as Grandpa seemed determined to introduce us to almost every piece of equipment inside, in a fashion such as I would imagine one would introduce the alphabet to a 5-year old. This despite the fact that—alas—after 3 years of navigating the inner labyrinths of at least 3 gyms, I am well aware of the function and title of almost every pain-provoking machine, and even of the appropriate accompanying amount of emotional adrenaline, fear, resentment, or anticipation.
At last, Grandpa went into the weight room/cardio room (I hate it when they’re combined, but what can one do?), and Daniel and I changed into our swimsuits and went to the indoor pool. The bigger section was about 50 meters long and 25 meters wide, and divided into 8 or so laps. However, only 4/5 of them were open for swimming. The rest were polluted by an ancient spell cast by an underwater demon. Oops, been reading too much Fablehaven. Actually, they were closed because a sign and a lifeguard Daniel asked said so. Anyway, fortunately, the pool was not crowded at all, and eventually Daniel and I both got lanes to ourselves. I swam my usual 18 laps of mixed strokes, and enjoyed doing a few special water-stretches and activities between. I believe this was the first time I’ve gone swimming all year, and I enjoyed it so much that I’ve resolved to go swimming at least once every week when I get back to Utah. It takes a lot of time and can be crowded, but I’d forgotten how much fun it is! Anyway, it’s always good to vary your type of exercise so your body doesn’t get too accustomed to just doing the same thing over and over. Speaking of which, Aunt Shelly is taking me for a bike ride tomorrow, also the first time I’ll have been on a (non-stationary) bike this year! Whoopee for change!
After swimming and showering and fooling around with Grandpa (he came in and told the lifeguard that we were his grandchildren, and not to let us drown…), we drove home. I washed my hair, and then ate lunch—a lovely bacon/tomato/lettuce/cheese sandwich with Grandma’s homemade bread.
After lunch, I did a lot of reading on my bed (I can tell already that I’m going to be pretty depressed between the time that I finish the 4th book in this series and that the 5th book comes out), and watched one of my new Best Picture movies from the collection Dad got me for my birthday. This one was the Best Picture winner from 1954, the year Mom and Dad were born. It’s called On the Waterfront, and was definitely winning material. Great cast, great story, lots of believability and tense situations, some touching bits of tragedy and parallelism, a triumphant ending and love/goodness/decency conquers all. It was especially nice to watch the main character change from an aimless, lazy, irresponsible bum to a courageous, independent, moral freeman. I would definitely watch it again, ideally with Kleenex and ice cream.
I went over to Aunt Shelly’s in the late afternoon, and talked with her and helped to fix some green beans which Daniel and Andy had picked from their garden. Daniel was teaching Andy some chess strategies, but I believe they had already played MarioKart for the allotted hour of the day. I was not too sad to have missed out, I must say. Eventually Uncle Billy, Grandma, and Grandpa joined us for dinner, which was beyond fabulous. We had sweet potato French fries (which I absolutely loved!), squash and green beans, and what appeared to be giant hot dogs, but were called bratwursts by those-who-knew. I had a big fat turkey one, and it made every hot dog I had ever tasted pale in comparison. By the way, be prepared to read a lot about meals in my account of our vacation—Southern dinners with our relatives in Tennessee are pretty much the stuff of legend in the Miller family.
After dinner, we talked for a long time, as you may expect, and had dessert, which was cold banana bread with chocolate chips—very chewy and yummy, though I had to drink a lot of water to keep from getting thirsty.
After another half hour or so of talking about…whatever, we ended up playing Catchphrase in the Hughes’ living room, with Daniel/me/Uncle Billy/Aunt Shelly on one time, and Gma/Gpa/Andy/Becky on another. We played three games, and our team won all of them, though the last game was close enough to be settled by a matchpoint. Very intense. Julie came home when we were winding up, and we talked for a little bit while the boys played pool. She had to do two presentations in the past two days, and seemed happy to be done with them.
At last, around 9 pm, Daniel and I headed out, and we’re now stalling before bed time by reading, checking our email, watching TV, and writing long blog posts. I’m actually impressed that I finished this in less than half an hour.
We’re looking forward to tomorrow—yoga class with Grandpa at noon, bike ride with Aunt Shelly, and we get to see Edward, Joseph, and Kirsti! Plus another one of those infamous Southern dinners—I’ve heard rumors with the word “pizza” in them, but nothing more…
Thursday, July 30, 2009
And I'm back...EAST!
Hey y’all! So apparently, I only write in my blog when I leave home and have to exert myself to labors beyond staying in my bedroom all day with a book. Anyway, my brother Daniel and I are on vacation at our grandparents’ house in Brentwood, Tennessee for the next week or so, and I will do my best to give you (y’all, I mean – excuuuse me! Try-ain to get back in mah Southern belle dialect heah) daily reports.
My day started out at 6 am, when Mom woke me up to go running on the track. It was cool and dark and kind of fun, except that we found out that one of our neighbor’s houses had been robbed last night – yikes! I made a mental note to not ever leave our door unlocked, even for a short period of time.
After exercising, I took a shower, fixed my hair, ate breakfast, and completed all the last minute packing. We left the house a little after 8 am, and ended up arriving at the airport a little flustered, after Mom took a wrong turn to get to a parking lot, rather than the parking garage, and Daniel and I argued the benefits/disadvantages to the latter option. Anyway, we made it inside without any difficulty, and checked in our bags (and I managed to assure Mom that my rather large—but still within the size limit—carry-on bag would not, in fact, be sufficient cause to weigh the plane down and cause a tragic crash in the vast desert between Salt Lake City and Phoenix). My bag had a lock on it, which I thought nothing of, since both my bags on the flight to D.C. had locks and I had never had my attention drawn to it. However, this time there wasn’t a line at the check-in place and the airport security guys seemed pretty bored, so they decided to have me open my bag and to rifle through everything. I was more than a little embarrassed at having my stuffed purple elephant, Derrick, which Daniel insisted I bring on the trip for the sake of old times, bared to the sight and mockery of all the airport security personnel—particularly since I had purposely put him in my large suitcase for the sake of avoiding such an exposure—but fortunately, no laughs were heard, no jokes were made, and both Derrick and my suitcase were able to continue the rest of the trip without further shame.
After kissing Mama good-bye and making it through security extraordinarily quickly, Daniel and I had a 2-hour wait until our flight. We used a good part of the first hour reading our scriptures, and took a long walk around the airport during the second hour. There were a lot of art displays, and I particularly liked a series of photographs showcasing ballet dancers in exotic locations. Daniel didn’t much like looking at any of them, but did say that his favorite was the only picture which didn’t have any females in it (it had, instead, three males in Russian dancing costumes and poses).
Finally we settled down to wait out the last half-hour before our flight, and Daniel struck up a conversation with a guy named Matthew, who told us he had converted to the Church 3 years ago because of his wife, who was Peruvian, and that he lived in Mexico, and that he had done a session in the Salt Lake Temple, and that he used to be pretty wild before he joined the church, among other things. He also thought Daniel and I were married, and asked how long we had been with each other – ha ha ha!!! We thought about saying “Oh, 21 years or so,” but ended up telling him the truth, which seemed to surprise him a good deal. I guess it’s a pretty natural assumption, given that we’re together and the same age, but you’d think more people would check to see if the girl was wearing a wedding ring, at least!
After chatting with Matthew, we rushed to board our plane, which was already boarding “B” passengers (we were “A”), and then Daniel suddenly decided he had to go to the bathroom. I tried to talk him out of it, but only succeeded in making him hesitate for 20 seconds or so before racing off, leaving me with his bag at the end of the line of passengers, which was rapidly moving up. Result? We ended up being the last people to get on—so much for our one chance at boarding first with “A” tickets. However, I was grateful that we made the flight, and it was actually very nice—as in “not crowded.” We both got window seats and a whole aisle to ourselves, and the staff were fun and pleasant. All the flight attendants were men, which surprised me a little. But they were all nice guys, and seemed to be capable of knocking down any passengers who tried to cause any trouble, so I was okay with it.
I didn’t do much on the flight—just read the magazine, which had changed since my trip home from D.C., ate my peanuts, drank my orange juice, and read a little bit in my new favorite book of all time, Fablehaven. I liked the first one, LOOOOOOOVED the second one, and am immensely enjoying the third one.
In Phoenix, we called Mom, ate our sack lunches, and figured out that we could get free Internet. That made the time pass rather quickly, and soon we were ready to board our next flight to Nashville. This flight actually was very crowded, but we still managed to find two seats together, almost at the very back of the plane. I sat in the middle seat, Daniel sat in the aisle seat, and across the aisle sat two teenage girls with two tiny dogs in a carrier. I guess you can now flight pets with Southwest…for a fee of $75, as we overheard. They seemed to be very well behaved dogs, at least, and small enough to fit in a regular sized purse. I was impressed at the lack of messiness and smelliness.
The flight wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but I was very tired and couldn’t get in a comfortable position to fall asleep. I read a lot in my book, which helped to pass the time, and they gave us quite a few snacks (more peanuts, crackers with cheese, those Oreo crackers which are NOT in the least bit like Oreos, and bland, dry, sandy animal crackers), which helped since I had only eaten half my lunch in Phoenix. The flight attendant who did all the talking was also a bit of a character – he cracked a lot of the usual jokes, about us being on a flight to New Orleans instead of Nashville, and thanked “all 15 of you who paid attention” to the safety instructions. He also got a loud round of laughter when he introduced the lifejacket bit with “Should we happen to fall into one of the vast oceans between Phoenix and Nashville…” Good stuff! All in all, it didn’t seem like it had been that long when we landed in Nashville 20 min. ahead of schedule. Oddly enough, the 10 minutes or so we had to wait before we could leave the airplane seemed INTERMINABLE! But once out, things were good. We found Aunt Shelly, picked up our baggage, met a tall, handsome stranger and a taller, white-haired giant who claimed to be Andy Hughes and Uncle Billy, and drove to Grandma and Grandpa’s, where we were treated with a dinner of vegetable soup, homemade bread, tomatoes and cucumbers from the garden, and zucchini bread with ice cream for dessert. Delicious!
We talked after dinner for a good long time about everything from what Dad’s favorite food was as a kid (strawberries) to what Grandma’s father did in Germany in World War II, to what riding a camel in Australia was like. It felt a bit like time travel, but was fun all the same, and I look forward to having more conversations around the table. Well, time for bed, and to read some more in my new favorite book! Goodnight!
My day started out at 6 am, when Mom woke me up to go running on the track. It was cool and dark and kind of fun, except that we found out that one of our neighbor’s houses had been robbed last night – yikes! I made a mental note to not ever leave our door unlocked, even for a short period of time.
After exercising, I took a shower, fixed my hair, ate breakfast, and completed all the last minute packing. We left the house a little after 8 am, and ended up arriving at the airport a little flustered, after Mom took a wrong turn to get to a parking lot, rather than the parking garage, and Daniel and I argued the benefits/disadvantages to the latter option. Anyway, we made it inside without any difficulty, and checked in our bags (and I managed to assure Mom that my rather large—but still within the size limit—carry-on bag would not, in fact, be sufficient cause to weigh the plane down and cause a tragic crash in the vast desert between Salt Lake City and Phoenix). My bag had a lock on it, which I thought nothing of, since both my bags on the flight to D.C. had locks and I had never had my attention drawn to it. However, this time there wasn’t a line at the check-in place and the airport security guys seemed pretty bored, so they decided to have me open my bag and to rifle through everything. I was more than a little embarrassed at having my stuffed purple elephant, Derrick, which Daniel insisted I bring on the trip for the sake of old times, bared to the sight and mockery of all the airport security personnel—particularly since I had purposely put him in my large suitcase for the sake of avoiding such an exposure—but fortunately, no laughs were heard, no jokes were made, and both Derrick and my suitcase were able to continue the rest of the trip without further shame.
After kissing Mama good-bye and making it through security extraordinarily quickly, Daniel and I had a 2-hour wait until our flight. We used a good part of the first hour reading our scriptures, and took a long walk around the airport during the second hour. There were a lot of art displays, and I particularly liked a series of photographs showcasing ballet dancers in exotic locations. Daniel didn’t much like looking at any of them, but did say that his favorite was the only picture which didn’t have any females in it (it had, instead, three males in Russian dancing costumes and poses).
Finally we settled down to wait out the last half-hour before our flight, and Daniel struck up a conversation with a guy named Matthew, who told us he had converted to the Church 3 years ago because of his wife, who was Peruvian, and that he lived in Mexico, and that he had done a session in the Salt Lake Temple, and that he used to be pretty wild before he joined the church, among other things. He also thought Daniel and I were married, and asked how long we had been with each other – ha ha ha!!! We thought about saying “Oh, 21 years or so,” but ended up telling him the truth, which seemed to surprise him a good deal. I guess it’s a pretty natural assumption, given that we’re together and the same age, but you’d think more people would check to see if the girl was wearing a wedding ring, at least!
After chatting with Matthew, we rushed to board our plane, which was already boarding “B” passengers (we were “A”), and then Daniel suddenly decided he had to go to the bathroom. I tried to talk him out of it, but only succeeded in making him hesitate for 20 seconds or so before racing off, leaving me with his bag at the end of the line of passengers, which was rapidly moving up. Result? We ended up being the last people to get on—so much for our one chance at boarding first with “A” tickets. However, I was grateful that we made the flight, and it was actually very nice—as in “not crowded.” We both got window seats and a whole aisle to ourselves, and the staff were fun and pleasant. All the flight attendants were men, which surprised me a little. But they were all nice guys, and seemed to be capable of knocking down any passengers who tried to cause any trouble, so I was okay with it.
I didn’t do much on the flight—just read the magazine, which had changed since my trip home from D.C., ate my peanuts, drank my orange juice, and read a little bit in my new favorite book of all time, Fablehaven. I liked the first one, LOOOOOOOVED the second one, and am immensely enjoying the third one.
In Phoenix, we called Mom, ate our sack lunches, and figured out that we could get free Internet. That made the time pass rather quickly, and soon we were ready to board our next flight to Nashville. This flight actually was very crowded, but we still managed to find two seats together, almost at the very back of the plane. I sat in the middle seat, Daniel sat in the aisle seat, and across the aisle sat two teenage girls with two tiny dogs in a carrier. I guess you can now flight pets with Southwest…for a fee of $75, as we overheard. They seemed to be very well behaved dogs, at least, and small enough to fit in a regular sized purse. I was impressed at the lack of messiness and smelliness.
The flight wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but I was very tired and couldn’t get in a comfortable position to fall asleep. I read a lot in my book, which helped to pass the time, and they gave us quite a few snacks (more peanuts, crackers with cheese, those Oreo crackers which are NOT in the least bit like Oreos, and bland, dry, sandy animal crackers), which helped since I had only eaten half my lunch in Phoenix. The flight attendant who did all the talking was also a bit of a character – he cracked a lot of the usual jokes, about us being on a flight to New Orleans instead of Nashville, and thanked “all 15 of you who paid attention” to the safety instructions. He also got a loud round of laughter when he introduced the lifejacket bit with “Should we happen to fall into one of the vast oceans between Phoenix and Nashville…” Good stuff! All in all, it didn’t seem like it had been that long when we landed in Nashville 20 min. ahead of schedule. Oddly enough, the 10 minutes or so we had to wait before we could leave the airplane seemed INTERMINABLE! But once out, things were good. We found Aunt Shelly, picked up our baggage, met a tall, handsome stranger and a taller, white-haired giant who claimed to be Andy Hughes and Uncle Billy, and drove to Grandma and Grandpa’s, where we were treated with a dinner of vegetable soup, homemade bread, tomatoes and cucumbers from the garden, and zucchini bread with ice cream for dessert. Delicious!
We talked after dinner for a good long time about everything from what Dad’s favorite food was as a kid (strawberries) to what Grandma’s father did in Germany in World War II, to what riding a camel in Australia was like. It felt a bit like time travel, but was fun all the same, and I look forward to having more conversations around the table. Well, time for bed, and to read some more in my new favorite book! Goodnight!
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Eat your Apples to Apples
Out of duty to time-honored traditions of the past, Sunday nights in our family are reserved for spiritual songs, thoughts, scriptures, and lessons in the way of "Family Home Evening." In contrast, Monday nights are a time for riotous frivolity and tomfoolery, mayhem and untainted wantonness: The main event usually consists of a contest to see who can drop the greatest number of masked insults before someone decides that the usual fail-safe - a swift smirk, followed by an innocent face and "Just kidding!" - no longer applies. Hilarity (also known on occasion as complex and/or illogical verbal battles, tears, slamming doors, and the occasional parental threat) ensues. However, in between and sometimes during rounds of this, we usually watch a movie or do the dishes or play a game.
Speaking of games, one of our favorites is "Apples to Apples." We play this game so often that we have acquired our own family traditions within the context of playing the game. For example, it is practically a rite to pick out random green (adjectival) cards after the game to describe "the way [insert family member's name] feels at Christmas," or red (nominal) cards to describe "what [X] will get [X] for Christmas." (By the way, I'm not sure why all the Christmas references come to mind...something about the red/green element of the game? Fact that we got it as a Christmas gift?)
Another thing we like to do is have our dog, Teddy, play.
This practice developed when there were only two of us willing and wanting to play the game at a certain time. And as we all know, the game requires at least three players (or two players and a stuffed animal, I suppose). Now, Apples to Apples being designed for humans, and Teddy being a dog, the results are quite funny, pitiful, and occasionally unpredictable. As none of us could be allowed to knowingly "choose" Teddy's card, we developed random methods to "select" red cards for him to play (i.e. number of licks, licks to a particular finger, sniffs of a particular card, completely and totally random, etc). The same rules apply to Teddy's choosing the winning red card, should he happen to be the judge.
I love it when Teddy plays. He's such a good sport - he never complains about getting a rotten draw or losing a round which he deserved to win - and creates such comedy for the rest of us by choosing the oddest of cards, like "Earthquakes" for "Cute," or "The 21st Century" for "Delicious." If you're the judge, and a particularly ridiculous card comes up ("The Eiffel Tower" for "Frazzled," say), it's a good bet the card is Teddy's. And when he manages to astonish us all by winning a round or two, it's a great opportunity to get rid of your worst red card, since he assumedly has no idea which one he's choosing ("Lenin's Tomb" is "Dainty"? Sure, why not!?).
But in all the years that we've played Apples to Apples, Teddy never actually won a game until last week. I mean, it's not exactly a game of luck! Witness the serious and lengthy amount of time, energy, and effort often required to select these cards and to agonize about which one deserves to win. Witness also the heated arguments and debates which take place in defense or attack of a particular decision. Even luck with good cards isn't enough to help you if a particular judge disagrees with your interpretation of a certain adjective.
Be this as it may, whether by inordinate good luck on his part or bad luck on ours, and with all the odds against him, Teddy officially won his first game of Apples to Apples last week. I didn't know whether to be proud (Attaboy! The classic story of the underdog win!) or embarrassed (Yeah, I lost the game...to our dog.). I may have to reconsider all that stuff about it not being a game of luck...cause that's what is was, right? RIGHT!? Whatever the secret is, Teddy's not talkin'. And if he can win Apples to Apples, what's to stop him from winning ANY game based on the luck of the die? What will happen to reputations established over years on the continual winning of board games such as Yahtzee and Sorry?
Anyway, another one of our family traditions is that the winner has to put up the game. Naturally, this one fell by the wayside that day, which just goes to show that you can't rely on anything anymore.
Speaking of games, one of our favorites is "Apples to Apples." We play this game so often that we have acquired our own family traditions within the context of playing the game. For example, it is practically a rite to pick out random green (adjectival) cards after the game to describe "the way [insert family member's name] feels at Christmas," or red (nominal) cards to describe "what [X] will get [X] for Christmas." (By the way, I'm not sure why all the Christmas references come to mind...something about the red/green element of the game? Fact that we got it as a Christmas gift?)
Another thing we like to do is have our dog, Teddy, play.
This practice developed when there were only two of us willing and wanting to play the game at a certain time. And as we all know, the game requires at least three players (or two players and a stuffed animal, I suppose). Now, Apples to Apples being designed for humans, and Teddy being a dog, the results are quite funny, pitiful, and occasionally unpredictable. As none of us could be allowed to knowingly "choose" Teddy's card, we developed random methods to "select" red cards for him to play (i.e. number of licks, licks to a particular finger, sniffs of a particular card, completely and totally random, etc). The same rules apply to Teddy's choosing the winning red card, should he happen to be the judge.
I love it when Teddy plays. He's such a good sport - he never complains about getting a rotten draw or losing a round which he deserved to win - and creates such comedy for the rest of us by choosing the oddest of cards, like "Earthquakes" for "Cute," or "The 21st Century" for "Delicious." If you're the judge, and a particularly ridiculous card comes up ("The Eiffel Tower" for "Frazzled," say), it's a good bet the card is Teddy's. And when he manages to astonish us all by winning a round or two, it's a great opportunity to get rid of your worst red card, since he assumedly has no idea which one he's choosing ("Lenin's Tomb" is "Dainty"? Sure, why not!?).
But in all the years that we've played Apples to Apples, Teddy never actually won a game until last week. I mean, it's not exactly a game of luck! Witness the serious and lengthy amount of time, energy, and effort often required to select these cards and to agonize about which one deserves to win. Witness also the heated arguments and debates which take place in defense or attack of a particular decision. Even luck with good cards isn't enough to help you if a particular judge disagrees with your interpretation of a certain adjective.
Be this as it may, whether by inordinate good luck on his part or bad luck on ours, and with all the odds against him, Teddy officially won his first game of Apples to Apples last week. I didn't know whether to be proud (Attaboy! The classic story of the underdog win!) or embarrassed (Yeah, I lost the game...to our dog.). I may have to reconsider all that stuff about it not being a game of luck...cause that's what is was, right? RIGHT!? Whatever the secret is, Teddy's not talkin'. And if he can win Apples to Apples, what's to stop him from winning ANY game based on the luck of the die? What will happen to reputations established over years on the continual winning of board games such as Yahtzee and Sorry?
Anyway, another one of our family traditions is that the winner has to put up the game. Naturally, this one fell by the wayside that day, which just goes to show that you can't rely on anything anymore.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Thoughts on Vacation (and Death)
Recently there has been some debate as to whether or not our family will be taking a vacation this year. Or, at least, part of our family--the part that does not bring in a steady income and tends to have wacky, impulsive ideas involving risky ventures and imprudent behavior. In relation to this, I have been mulling over the following thoughts:
Vacation Pros:
Remember what it feels like to drive 70 mph on a straight road.
See the world before we die. Or at least see America.
Create lasting memories of the best years of our lives, when we are young and stupid and rely on our parents to pay for all of our expenses.
Vacation Cons:
Money could be used in more practical ways (i.e. clothes for fall, new books that I want to read, movie tickets).
Requires too much exertion to research places we want and can afford to go to.
We could die.
Should we end up doing a vacation after all, it's likely to be one of these options: the Grand Canyon, the Great Salt Lake, Zion National Park, Lake Powell. I've been to the GSL once, but it was too cold to get in, so I'd like to return and do that at least once (before I die). As for the others, I know nothing about them yet, but I assume a lot of driving and hiking would be involved, and possibly some camping and bear-baiting, and maybe, possibly, conceivably, death of some kind. It could be a person. Or a car - our red minivan Jack died on the last day of our last vacation. Or it could be the bear, which I wouldn't mind so much.
So far I'm ranking them in this order, with the following Pros & Cons:
1. Great Salt Lake
Pros: Close to here. Involves water. Not very crowded. No bears.
Cons: Kind of boring. Possible death from salt poisoning?
2. Zion National Park
Pros: Pretty close to here. Supposed to be pretty. Hiking is fun. What are the chances of getting killed in a place called "Zion?"
Cons: If you've seen one park, you've seen them all. Might as well stay here and hike Timpanogos.
3. The Grand Canyon
Pros: It's famous. It's grand. It would be cool to say that we've been there.
Cons: Our neighbor's mom died there - she took a step back to pose for a picture. So...deadly and possibly haunted?
4. Lake Powell
Pros: It's a lake. Swimming!
Cons: Kind of a long way to go just to swim (since we don't boat, fish, jet or waterski).
Who knows? Perhaps it will be just the library and the movie theaters for me this summer. What with all my acquired expertise in crime after spending 6 hours at the National Museum of Crime and Punishment in Washington DC, I'm kind of looking forward to this new movie coming out about the famous bank robber John Dillinger (Public Enemies, I believe, is the name of the film?) this Friday. However, if I do go, I'll be lucky to make it out of the theater alive.
Vacation Pros:
Remember what it feels like to drive 70 mph on a straight road.
See the world before we die. Or at least see America.
Create lasting memories of the best years of our lives, when we are young and stupid and rely on our parents to pay for all of our expenses.
Vacation Cons:
Money could be used in more practical ways (i.e. clothes for fall, new books that I want to read, movie tickets).
Requires too much exertion to research places we want and can afford to go to.
We could die.
Should we end up doing a vacation after all, it's likely to be one of these options: the Grand Canyon, the Great Salt Lake, Zion National Park, Lake Powell. I've been to the GSL once, but it was too cold to get in, so I'd like to return and do that at least once (before I die). As for the others, I know nothing about them yet, but I assume a lot of driving and hiking would be involved, and possibly some camping and bear-baiting, and maybe, possibly, conceivably, death of some kind. It could be a person. Or a car - our red minivan Jack died on the last day of our last vacation. Or it could be the bear, which I wouldn't mind so much.
So far I'm ranking them in this order, with the following Pros & Cons:
1. Great Salt Lake
Pros: Close to here. Involves water. Not very crowded. No bears.
Cons: Kind of boring. Possible death from salt poisoning?
2. Zion National Park
Pros: Pretty close to here. Supposed to be pretty. Hiking is fun. What are the chances of getting killed in a place called "Zion?"
Cons: If you've seen one park, you've seen them all. Might as well stay here and hike Timpanogos.
3. The Grand Canyon
Pros: It's famous. It's grand. It would be cool to say that we've been there.
Cons: Our neighbor's mom died there - she took a step back to pose for a picture. So...deadly and possibly haunted?
4. Lake Powell
Pros: It's a lake. Swimming!
Cons: Kind of a long way to go just to swim (since we don't boat, fish, jet or waterski).
Who knows? Perhaps it will be just the library and the movie theaters for me this summer. What with all my acquired expertise in crime after spending 6 hours at the National Museum of Crime and Punishment in Washington DC, I'm kind of looking forward to this new movie coming out about the famous bank robber John Dillinger (Public Enemies, I believe, is the name of the film?) this Friday. However, if I do go, I'll be lucky to make it out of the theater alive.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Done!
So, I officially finished spring semester today! The grammar exam only took one hour and 45-ish minutes to complete, and I was actually the third-to-last person to finish, so apparently I'm a slow test-taker... or just didn't study very well.... But I betcha I got most of the questions right. Luckily, the test was pretty straightforward. I say "luckily" since I neglected to even look at the actual study guide for the test until about 15 minutes before (she had given it to us a few weeks ago, and I had stuck it in my folder, where I promptly forgot about it) the hour. I had studied all morning and last night from my own notes and the homework, but it would have been helpful to have the study guide as a reference. Oh well... I still think I did quite well. And I KNOW I got one question right, because I asked her afterwards if I could see the diagram, and she had done it the exact same way as me! I'm sad I don't get to keep my tests from the class for my school portfolio, but I guess I can always go back and diagram the sentences again (she gave us a take-home sheet, which I still have, he he). In fact, I'd probably better do that soon, before I forget EVERYTHING I learned about diagramming (wait, what's a "slanty" line for? My mind is going...I can feel it....).
To assist my mind on its path toward implosion and the emotional purging which typically takes place after the end of a semester, I watched "Cars" for the first time when I got home. My reaction? Meh. (That seems to be reaction to a lot of films these days) It wasn't anything special. Although I did enjoy hearing Paul Newman's voice coming out of a car. The truck was also kinda cute. But the whole romance/redemption/fictitious creation of a world inhabited only by cars thing? Meh. "Ratatouille" and "The Incredibles" are much better in the way of Pixar films.
As for my other pursuits, I am doggedly struggling to finish reading "Extras," by Scott Westerfeld, just so I can say once and for all that I read the entire Uglies series in less than two months. They're really starting to wear on me, showing up in my dreams and my thoughts far too often, so let me know if I start saying dorky, futuristic things like "Check out that scary-making ride - it's totally kick!" and "I'm not feeling very bubbly today, Mama-chan."
Speaking of rides, I noticed that the Orem Summerfest carnival is all set up... in PROVO. The parking lot of the Albertsons at the bottom of the hill, to be exact. My first reaction was, "Wow, what a nifty way to create tension between people who want parking spaces to shop at Albertsons and people who just want to go to the carnival. AND people who just want to drive down the hill from Orem to Provo" (i.e. ME). My second reaction was a tie between "Wow, that Ferris Wheel is reaaaaally close to the road. Seriously, someone could fall out and land right on a car's windshield!" and "I bet wonder how great the view of the top of Albertsons is." My third reaction was, "Where's the freakin' star machine? The only ride worth the price, and I don't even see it!? So totally bogus."
To assist my mind on its path toward implosion and the emotional purging which typically takes place after the end of a semester, I watched "Cars" for the first time when I got home. My reaction? Meh. (That seems to be reaction to a lot of films these days) It wasn't anything special. Although I did enjoy hearing Paul Newman's voice coming out of a car. The truck was also kinda cute. But the whole romance/redemption/fictitious creation of a world inhabited only by cars thing? Meh. "Ratatouille" and "The Incredibles" are much better in the way of Pixar films.
As for my other pursuits, I am doggedly struggling to finish reading "Extras," by Scott Westerfeld, just so I can say once and for all that I read the entire Uglies series in less than two months. They're really starting to wear on me, showing up in my dreams and my thoughts far too often, so let me know if I start saying dorky, futuristic things like "Check out that scary-making ride - it's totally kick!" and "I'm not feeling very bubbly today, Mama-chan."
Speaking of rides, I noticed that the Orem Summerfest carnival is all set up... in PROVO. The parking lot of the Albertsons at the bottom of the hill, to be exact. My first reaction was, "Wow, what a nifty way to create tension between people who want parking spaces to shop at Albertsons and people who just want to go to the carnival. AND people who just want to drive down the hill from Orem to Provo" (i.e. ME). My second reaction was a tie between "Wow, that Ferris Wheel is reaaaaally close to the road. Seriously, someone could fall out and land right on a car's windshield!" and "I bet wonder how great the view of the top of Albertsons is." My third reaction was, "Where's the freakin' star machine? The only ride worth the price, and I don't even see it!? So totally bogus."
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
You only THOUGHT I died in a plane crash...
And, ladies and gentlemen (all...er, seven of you? Hello?), after taking a much-enjoyed two-month break (from blogging - I've been plenty busy doing spring semester stuff), I'm BACK! I enjoyed the break, but I definitely don't want to go so long again without writing in what is pretty much now my journal.
So, I got back from Washington DC....um...a long time ago. More details on that later, as well as on the many things that I didn't get the chance to talk about before leaving. Like the Museum of National Crime and Punishment, and the...zoo. National Zoo, that is.
For right now, let me bring you back up to date on me. After getting back from DC, my immediate priorities were 1) finish my research paper for Pol Sci 399R, and 2) get ready for spring semester. I finished the first on May 16, after an unfortunate string of almost all-nighters, and am pleased to report my happiness with the results. As for the second, I just finished taking my CHum 230 (Print Publishing) final, and only have the ELang 325 (Grammar) final tomorrow before I am done withe spring semester! Hooray!
Other priorities I've got going now include the following:
1. Ward organist/RS pianist/choir pianist/Relief Society teacher (first lesson THIS SUNDAY!)
2. Writing more in my blog/journal. Yeah! Aren't you happy?!?
3. Working on the Americana journal for next year. Our chief editor graduated, and we're kind of in the lurch. Good thing I just took a print....publishing...class. Oh, shoooooot.
4. Cleaning up. I have to make a school portfolio for last winter and this spring, and organize all the stuff I brought back from Washington.
5. Work on Christmas presents! Never too early, right!? Speaking of holidays, I'm also going to be turning 21 this summer.
6. Read a ton of great books and watch a ton of great movies. That's what summer's all about, right?
7. Prepare for imminent doom, also known as GRAD school. Eek.
Wish me luck in all of the above, please, but feel free to pick favorites. #6 is mine!
So, I got back from Washington DC....um...a long time ago. More details on that later, as well as on the many things that I didn't get the chance to talk about before leaving. Like the Museum of National Crime and Punishment, and the...zoo. National Zoo, that is.
For right now, let me bring you back up to date on me. After getting back from DC, my immediate priorities were 1) finish my research paper for Pol Sci 399R, and 2) get ready for spring semester. I finished the first on May 16, after an unfortunate string of almost all-nighters, and am pleased to report my happiness with the results. As for the second, I just finished taking my CHum 230 (Print Publishing) final, and only have the ELang 325 (Grammar) final tomorrow before I am done withe spring semester! Hooray!
Other priorities I've got going now include the following:
1. Ward organist/RS pianist/choir pianist/Relief Society teacher (first lesson THIS SUNDAY!)
2. Writing more in my blog/journal. Yeah! Aren't you happy?!?
3. Working on the Americana journal for next year. Our chief editor graduated, and we're kind of in the lurch. Good thing I just took a print....publishing...class. Oh, shoooooot.
4. Cleaning up. I have to make a school portfolio for last winter and this spring, and organize all the stuff I brought back from Washington.
5. Work on Christmas presents! Never too early, right!? Speaking of holidays, I'm also going to be turning 21 this summer.
6. Read a ton of great books and watch a ton of great movies. That's what summer's all about, right?
7. Prepare for imminent doom, also known as GRAD school. Eek.
Wish me luck in all of the above, please, but feel free to pick favorites. #6 is mine!
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