Thursday, April 24, 2014

Happy...Thursday!

Tomorrow we're driving to Utah for the millionth time which means I'll be spending most of the day in Wyoming which means it will not be a Happy Friday. So let's all enjoy this video together today.

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Someone probably called the police when they saw me taking pictures from my balcony.

You know how your hair always looks awesome the day before you get it cut? That's my life right now but the hair is Colorado and the cut is moving to Utah. I mean sure, most places are spectacular in the spring, and most places would be hard to leave in early May. But the fresh blossoms, green grass, and warm temps are only part of what's making it difficult to depart.

Why you gotta be so lovely, tree?

Three years is just long enough to become attached to a place, and I'm getting weirdly sentimental about saying goodbye to my favorite grocery store, restaurants, etc. 

I even got a little teary-eyed walking out of my annual doctor's appointment. When we moved here in the middle of a pregnancy and I didn't really know anyone or have anywhere to go, I looked forward to my weekly appointment as though it was a gathering with friends. In fact I forced the receptionists, nurses and doctor to be my friends, sometimes staying for an hour or more chatting.

I bought $250 worth of merchandise at my favorite fabric shop and made the cashier promise that they would start selling online.

I feel like I need to explain to the owner of our favorite Thai place that we're moving, and that we would continue to eat there weekly for the rest of our lives if we could. 

But we can't. We can't survive on my part-time freelance income, and it would kill Edith, or maybe Edith would kill us, if we stayed. One hott hair day does not mean you should never cut your hair again. That's disgusting. And so is the smell of Edith's smoking that seeps in through our air vents. So it's goodbye, Colorado. Thanks for being awesome today. 

Monday, April 21, 2014

Warning: Holiday Recap Post

Our Easter probably wasn't as religious as it should have been. I never even cracked open the New Testament. But there's something magical, and dare I say spiritual, about watching a tiny child enjoy a holiday. And that's exactly what we did all day. 

Ivy, arguably the luckiest kid in the world, participated in two different egg hunts. The first graciously hosted by our Colorado family, my aunt, uncle and cousins, who all helped Ivy gather so many plastic eggs that her basket became too heavy to carry. 


Ivy and Ollie on the hunt

The second also graciously hosted by our neighbors and fellow ward members, who let us use their pet bunny for an iphone photo shoot. Someday I'll remember to take my actual camera places and this blog will become a real blog. Someday. 


Ivy played with other kids until the sun went down and the weather turned cold. We went home and she said "chocolate!" over and over before crashing and falling asleep.

Again, I probably should have mentioned Jesus and the resurrection at some point during the day, and I should have been on time to Stake Conference instead of showing up an hour late, but in the end my family spent a long, happy, special day together, and that has to count for something, right?

Friday, April 18, 2014

Do you even go to this school?

Last night I was in a pretty terrible mood. I hate to vague post, but it's a boring story and I don't want to waste your precious blog reading time. All that matters is that I was sad and grouchy, and Stephen know there is only one sure-fire way to lift my spirits. Turn on Mean Girls. So he did. I instantly felt better.

Mean Girls is streaming on Netflix. Go watch it 200 times. Or just watch this clip 1,000 times. It's the greatest two minutes in cinematic history.

Happy Friday, friends. May Tina Fey be your spirit animal like she is mine.

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

It's been no bed of roses, no pleasure cruise

Four years ago, my sister Hannah gave me and Stephen Monopoly for a wedding gift. Not just standard Monopoly. Monopoly *Championship Edition* which probably cost $10.00 more because it includes a plastic trophy with a slot for the current household champion's name to be displayed somewhere prominently in the home. 

For the first month or two of marriage, we played often. Among some of the other surprises one learns about one's spouse in that first year, Stephen learned that I'm kind of extremely board-game-mean. I'm not competitive about many things because I'm not really great at much. With no athletic prowess and minimal musical ability, I always hated track meets and violin competitions and only ever participated for the sake of college applications. But pull out a board game and I become a cut-throat maniac intent on destroying my opponents because I FREAKING CAN. I'm especially terrible when playing Monopoly. My family quit playing with me long ago, and after getting tired of repeatedly losing to his maniacal wife, Stephen decided it was better for our marriage if we put the board, and the trophy, away for a while. 

So our Championship Edition Monopoly sat on a shelf for nearly half a decade, unplayed and neglected. Every now and then, I'd casually mention how fun it would to maybe play Monopoly for just a few hours and Stephen, panic-stricken, would lock the closet. 

But then last week something came over my husband, and with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he asked, "Want to play Monopoly?". Before he had a chance to give it a second thought, I had the board out, the money counted and the properties organized. I won. Cause I'm amazing. But I did notice Stephen had improved a great deal. Perhaps three years of law school taught him shrewdness. Perhaps it was easier to detect my vulnerabilities after so many years of living together. Perhaps he was just lucky. We played again the next night. And the next night. Each game more intense than the last. Both of us becoming meaner and crazier.  Like Jumanji on Redbull. Stephen won once, then I won four times in a row, just to show him his single victory was a fluke. I placed the Champion trophy atop our mantle with my name scrawled across the bottom. I was unstoppable. And then we played last night. Stephen won. Another fluke, I thought. So I asked to play again. Early in the game I acquire Boardwalk and Park Place. He was toast. But then he put hotels on all the yellows and all the magentas and soon I was paying $1,500 every time around the board, and soon I was broke. I was beat. I was forced to watch Stephen write his name on the trophy. I pouted. He put away the board, smiling, a pep in his step, I once had in mine. 


Stephen may have won two battles, but I am winning the war. When will it end? When victory is sure. Will there be blood shed? Maybe. Will it be worth it? Yes. 

Monday, April 14, 2014

No shoes no shirt but I still get service

I hadn't been to Target since Friday and I was starting to get the shakes, so I made my way to the ol' bullseye this afternoon. I only picked up seven additional items beyond my list, did a lap to make sure there wasn't any new must-have inventory, then headed to the check-out line. I couldn't believe my fortune when I spotted my favorite Target cashier, with nary a line to her register. To the customer placing her bags in a cart she said, "I used to sew. But then I started working." I can't be certain, but I'm pretty sure this statement was in no way relevant to their prior conversation. As she began scanning my items she said, "I like to buy my husband candy bars. After work I just like to unwind, eat some candy bars, and watch TV. Dancing with the Stars or something like that." Then she spotted my two boxes of strawberries and said, "These are only $1.50!"

The actual strawberries I purchased and totally not an image I stole from Google. 


She leaned toward me, lowered her voice and said, "You need some cake and whipped cream to go with these," as though she were sharing the very secret of life and swearing me to shortcake secrecy. "I used to make sponge cake," she continued, "It took like twelve eggs. But you know, I was at home, and I had the time, but then I started working and now I just buy cake." Maybe it was a warning. Sure I might have time now to whip up a sponge cake, but who knows what lies ahead in my future? Perhaps I'll only have the time and the means for smaller luxuries such as candy bars and Dancing with the Stars. It was while I chewed on this existential conundrum that I noticed "Dolores"' rather loose bagging technique. Granted, we can't all be a Harmons Paper Bagging Champion such as myself, but even beginners know not to place produce and shower gel in the same sack, right? I'm beginning to suspect that Dolores is coasting on her charms and tales of care-free-er days, you know, before she had to work. Or maybe she's just having an off day.

Friday, April 11, 2014

Happy Friday

"I guess people are just cropping out all the sadness."