I have seen this around the blog block so I figured I would give it a try. Maybe it will hold me accountable, maybe it will just be a list of things I never get around to doing. Who knows!?!
1. Upload and send graduation pictures to my sister.
2. Update the blog at least once a week.
3. Hang the mirror in the guest room.
4. Take the couch cover to the dry cleaners.
5. D.I. the basket of stuff that is sitting in the living room.
6. Create some sort of art for above our bed.
7. Plant the herbs into their permanent containers.
8. Write the paper for the class I am taking MORE than 24 hours before it is due.
9. Do laundry at least once a week.
10. Keep the kitchen counter clean for a month.
11. Lose 5 pounds.
I think these are all pretty reasonable to the point that they have a chance of completion. Well, all except number 8- because we all know that will never happen.
In other news, I have tons of pictures to post and many fun things to write about. I just haven't. Mostly because I am a slacker. Somewhat because I have been spending time in the yard cutting the bushes back and putting mulch in strategic places so that it looks as though we are trying to care about the appearance of our yard. I really thought this is why we pay the yard people but apparently that only covers lawn mowing. I think I need to add gardener to my future entourage.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Two Years Later
It has been two years since that fateful April day at Virginia Tech. I wrote this then and will re-post it now. It is still unbelievable and still makes me want to cry.
"While 32 of our friends and classmates are in heaven trying to explain what a Hokie is, I stand here sure in the fact that I wouldn't want to be anything else."
So, yesterday I got a message from Kevin telling me something bad had happened at our beloved Virginia Tech. When I checked the news one was dead and one was injured- some kind of "domestic disturbance". By the end of the school day, that number had jumped to 33 dead, 20 more injured. We both sat on the couch in disbelief as we watched the events unfold on the TV and the internet.
It wasn't that long ago that I was there- walking under the arch in Norris to make it over to Hokie Grill and back (usually with Macel) before the next class started. It wasn't that long ago that we were stumbling the mile or more from the commuter lot to make it to a football game before kickoff after 8 hours of tailgating, walking right by that building. It wasn't that long ago that we had some random sorority event in the crossover lounge at AJ. And it wasn't that long ago that many of my friends sat in the very classrooms where this all went down.
Today in school was weird. Trying to pull myself together so that I could answer the questions my students had. Many of them knew I graduated from Tech, many still did not. Hearing them say they were scared to go to college now and that they didn't understand why this had happened was hard because, at 8:30 this morning, I did not understand why this had happened- part of me still does not understand why this happened. And some of them were still jerks.
I guess it is easy to try to place blame because that is what we try to do when tragedy strikes. But this person was intent on finding and killing who he was looking for. If it had not been Norris Hall, it would have been a dining hall, or a dorm lounge, or the Drillfield. The one person to blame for this is dead along with 32 innocent individuals. It is terrible and just....sad. The human stories are starting to emerge from all this...the ones that tear your heart out of your chest and make you go back to that place that you once thought was so safe.
And here we are now...both of us still staring at the TV in disbelief. Talking to our friends who maybe finally understand that once you become a Hokie you never stop- orange and maroon always match- and you still think Blacksburg is one of the best places in the world. My best friend- a diehard Hokie Hater- is dressing her son in orange and maroon on Friday My sister- a Wahoo- has put a VT logo on her Myspace. And thousands of people throughout the world have seen our tiny little Blue Ridge Mountain town pull together to get through something that no one should ever have to experience.
As cheers of "Let's Go Hokies" rise above the sea of people on the VT drillfield, I just want to cry.
"While 32 of our friends and classmates are in heaven trying to explain what a Hokie is, I stand here sure in the fact that I wouldn't want to be anything else."
So, yesterday I got a message from Kevin telling me something bad had happened at our beloved Virginia Tech. When I checked the news one was dead and one was injured- some kind of "domestic disturbance". By the end of the school day, that number had jumped to 33 dead, 20 more injured. We both sat on the couch in disbelief as we watched the events unfold on the TV and the internet.It wasn't that long ago that I was there- walking under the arch in Norris to make it over to Hokie Grill and back (usually with Macel) before the next class started. It wasn't that long ago that we were stumbling the mile or more from the commuter lot to make it to a football game before kickoff after 8 hours of tailgating, walking right by that building. It wasn't that long ago that we had some random sorority event in the crossover lounge at AJ. And it wasn't that long ago that many of my friends sat in the very classrooms where this all went down.
Today in school was weird. Trying to pull myself together so that I could answer the questions my students had. Many of them knew I graduated from Tech, many still did not. Hearing them say they were scared to go to college now and that they didn't understand why this had happened was hard because, at 8:30 this morning, I did not understand why this had happened- part of me still does not understand why this happened. And some of them were still jerks.
I guess it is easy to try to place blame because that is what we try to do when tragedy strikes. But this person was intent on finding and killing who he was looking for. If it had not been Norris Hall, it would have been a dining hall, or a dorm lounge, or the Drillfield. The one person to blame for this is dead along with 32 innocent individuals. It is terrible and just....sad. The human stories are starting to emerge from all this...the ones that tear your heart out of your chest and make you go back to that place that you once thought was so safe.
And here we are now...both of us still staring at the TV in disbelief. Talking to our friends who maybe finally understand that once you become a Hokie you never stop- orange and maroon always match- and you still think Blacksburg is one of the best places in the world. My best friend- a diehard Hokie Hater- is dressing her son in orange and maroon on Friday My sister- a Wahoo- has put a VT logo on her Myspace. And thousands of people throughout the world have seen our tiny little Blue Ridge Mountain town pull together to get through something that no one should ever have to experience.
As cheers of "Let's Go Hokies" rise above the sea of people on the VT drillfield, I just want to cry.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Neglected
ne·glect
tr.v. ne·glect·ed, ne·glect·ing, ne·glects
[Latin neglegere, neglēct- : neg-, not; see ne in Indo-European roots + legere, to choose, pick up; see leg- in Indo-European roots.] ne·glect'er n. In other words...the state of this blog. |
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
The First Night in Reno, or The Night I Was Mistaken for a Hooker
Sometimes you need to get out of Utah, if for no other reason to remind yourself how quirky it is and that the rest of the world isn't so conservative. With that in mind, we spent last weekend in Reno for the Western Athletic Conference Basketball Championship. We almost didn't make it! You see, Dr. HokieKev spent the first part of Furlough Break in New Jersey working his undercover job. His flight back was supposed to get into Salt Lake at 10:30, our plane to Reno left at 11:10- plenty of time! Not so fast my friend, he was delayed and ended up sprinting across the airport to make the flight that I was prepared to cry, lie, and wager into staying at the gate until he arrived. None of this would have been a problem had the WAC kept the schedule as originally planed which gave Utah State the night game. Instead, they changed it to give the home team, Nevada-Reno, the advantage. Since when there are home teams in championships, I do not know- but that is another story for another time.
So anyway, we made the plane and headed to Reno. Our seat partners were fun. Dr. HokieKev sat with the Aggie pointgaurd's family and I sat with a woman who lives down the street from Sarah Palin in Wasilla, AK. We chatted. Dr. HokieKev made friends. We finally landed in Reno. The first game was fairly uneventful. Upon its conclusion, we headed back to the hotel to change for dinner. After a quick tripadvisor search, Dr. HokieKev settled on The SteakHouse at Harrah's! which was across the street from our hotel. We got all dressed up and made our way to the hidden gem (seriously, located UNDER the casino- accessible only by slightly hidden stairs- booths only facing out. Total mob front from the 70s) with EXCELLENT food! We ate dinner, desert, blah blah blah boring boring boring and then proceeded to leave. As we were crossing the street back to our hotel, Random Dude approached Dr. HokieKev and clearly said "Dude, are you in a position to help me find a hooker?" and clearly looked directly at me. WTF!
Now I am not easily offended- in fact, it takes an awful lot to offend me. But this- um, yeah- was a little bit offensive. I mean, do I really look like a hooker? And before you all comment on my obvious hookerish attributes, I would like to add that I was not dressed in a manner that would warrant the assumption. I didn't have the dress from Halloween on (I save that for Vegas)- I didn't even have anything that lowcute on- and even if I had, so what...no reasonable person has ever jumped from cleavage to hooker. In fact, both Dr. HokieKev and I looked like we had stepped out of a J. Crew catalog (aside from the fact that nothing we were wearing was actually from J. Crew). I guess this particular weirdo was into preppy hookers with professorial pimps!
So anyway, we made the plane and headed to Reno. Our seat partners were fun. Dr. HokieKev sat with the Aggie pointgaurd's family and I sat with a woman who lives down the street from Sarah Palin in Wasilla, AK. We chatted. Dr. HokieKev made friends. We finally landed in Reno. The first game was fairly uneventful. Upon its conclusion, we headed back to the hotel to change for dinner. After a quick tripadvisor search, Dr. HokieKev settled on The SteakHouse at Harrah's! which was across the street from our hotel. We got all dressed up and made our way to the hidden gem (seriously, located UNDER the casino- accessible only by slightly hidden stairs- booths only facing out. Total mob front from the 70s) with EXCELLENT food! We ate dinner, desert, blah blah blah boring boring boring and then proceeded to leave. As we were crossing the street back to our hotel, Random Dude approached Dr. HokieKev and clearly said "Dude, are you in a position to help me find a hooker?" and clearly looked directly at me. WTF!
Now I am not easily offended- in fact, it takes an awful lot to offend me. But this- um, yeah- was a little bit offensive. I mean, do I really look like a hooker? And before you all comment on my obvious hookerish attributes, I would like to add that I was not dressed in a manner that would warrant the assumption. I didn't have the dress from Halloween on (I save that for Vegas)- I didn't even have anything that lowcute on- and even if I had, so what...no reasonable person has ever jumped from cleavage to hooker. In fact, both Dr. HokieKev and I looked like we had stepped out of a J. Crew catalog (aside from the fact that nothing we were wearing was actually from J. Crew). I guess this particular weirdo was into preppy hookers with professorial pimps!
Monday, March 16, 2009
Accountability- The Report
What I Accomplished Over Furlough Break
1.Match living room paint and touch up all the walls I also touched up the paint in all the other rooms upstairs. In the process, I made friend with pink putty.
2.Clean the kitchen really well Everything but the inside of the refrigerator is now spotless. Well...I also didn't get around to washing the floor, but nonetheless.
3. Hang the picture frames in the guest bedroom FAIL- I didn't go downstairs all week
4. Find or build a bedframe for guest bedroom #2 FAIL- see above
5.Clean the master bath really well I also cleaned the 2nd bathroom really well.
6. Install fancy shower head in downstairs bathroom FAIL- see above
7.Find two brown, quilted euro shams for the master bedroom that do not cost $99.99 each They aren't quilted but they are cute and didn't cost $99.99. I made the sales girl at Bed, Bath, and Beyond take them off a display.
8.Figure out something to do with all the mail Got a mail holder for the laundry room
9. Organize the laundry room/tv equipment room FAIL-eh...
10.Build a coat rack for the laundry room I also made a shelf and got a container for the mail. Now if I could only get Dr. HokieKev to put his keys on the keyrack...
6 out of 10- better than 50%!
1.
2.
3. Hang the picture frames in the guest bedroom FAIL- I didn't go downstairs all week
4. Find or build a bedframe for guest bedroom #2 FAIL- see above
5.
6. Install fancy shower head in downstairs bathroom FAIL- see above
7.
8.
9. Organize the laundry room/tv equipment room FAIL-eh...
10.
6 out of 10- better than 50%!
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Pink Putty and Paint Stirrers
When Dr. HokieKev and I decided to move to Utah, we also decided to buy a house. We took a long weekend last March to fly out and look at over 30 houses...in three days. We bought the last one we looked at. Fanciness and upgrades enticed us. Things like this:
And these:
And all this (which, consequently was its own pain in the butt- but I think we finally have it working right):
And this lovely kitchen with its gorgeous travertine wall:
The reason for all of the fanciness was mostly the fact that the previous owner was the builder. In fact, that is his profession- he builds houses. He puts fancy upgrades in his. So, we bought his house and with it got the upgrades. We own these things now- they are still fancy.
However, in all of these upgrades and all of this fanciness, the former owner neglected to pay attention to details. Let me remind you- he is a builder, he builds houses. That is how he makes money. Anyway, he left out the details. I don't know why I have picked now to start worrying about these things, but in the last few weeks they have really bothered me. You see, there were several spots throught out the house where paint was touched up- with the wrong color. There is a fairly large section of an accent wall in our living room- the only wall in the whole house that is a different color from the rest- that was painted the wrong color. There were nail holes. And gouges in the wall. And almost every light switch plate looked like someone had taken a chopstick size screwdriver and punched a hole in the wall right next to it. The ones without actual holes, well...you could tell that there were holes which were painted over- poorly.
I mean, I guess I could give the guy the benefit of the doubt. When you are moving out, you are bound to ding some walls or leave some nail holes unfilled. But once again, he is a builder. He does this stuff for a living. That is how he makes money. I could also see if the fixing of these things took time. And before today- maybe I thought they did. But once again- DUDE BUILDS HOUSES. FOR A LIVING.
Once again, I don't know what this has just started to bother me, but it has. Noone will be able to tell that the accent wall is two colors. But I know. Most people won't realize the poorly painted over imperfections. But I will. So today, I went around my upstairs with a can of pink putty and filled in the holes and gouges. It took less than ten minutes. I didn't even have the proper putty knife. I used a paint stirrer. Did I mention the putty was pink?
After about an hour, the pink putty turned white. Once again, I took less than ten minutes to go around and sand away the excess. One day this week, I will take another ten minutes or so to paint over the holes and dings and dents. I don't build houses for a living. I also no longer have chopstick size holes next to all my upstairs light switches (I am saving the downstairs for another day).
Now there is the small matter of that pesky 1500 lb. gun safe in our office...
And these:
And all this (which, consequently was its own pain in the butt- but I think we finally have it working right):
And this lovely kitchen with its gorgeous travertine wall:
The reason for all of the fanciness was mostly the fact that the previous owner was the builder. In fact, that is his profession- he builds houses. He puts fancy upgrades in his. So, we bought his house and with it got the upgrades. We own these things now- they are still fancy.However, in all of these upgrades and all of this fanciness, the former owner neglected to pay attention to details. Let me remind you- he is a builder, he builds houses. That is how he makes money. Anyway, he left out the details. I don't know why I have picked now to start worrying about these things, but in the last few weeks they have really bothered me. You see, there were several spots throught out the house where paint was touched up- with the wrong color. There is a fairly large section of an accent wall in our living room- the only wall in the whole house that is a different color from the rest- that was painted the wrong color. There were nail holes. And gouges in the wall. And almost every light switch plate looked like someone had taken a chopstick size screwdriver and punched a hole in the wall right next to it. The ones without actual holes, well...you could tell that there were holes which were painted over- poorly.
I mean, I guess I could give the guy the benefit of the doubt. When you are moving out, you are bound to ding some walls or leave some nail holes unfilled. But once again, he is a builder. He does this stuff for a living. That is how he makes money. I could also see if the fixing of these things took time. And before today- maybe I thought they did. But once again- DUDE BUILDS HOUSES. FOR A LIVING.
Once again, I don't know what this has just started to bother me, but it has. Noone will be able to tell that the accent wall is two colors. But I know. Most people won't realize the poorly painted over imperfections. But I will. So today, I went around my upstairs with a can of pink putty and filled in the holes and gouges. It took less than ten minutes. I didn't even have the proper putty knife. I used a paint stirrer. Did I mention the putty was pink?
After about an hour, the pink putty turned white. Once again, I took less than ten minutes to go around and sand away the excess. One day this week, I will take another ten minutes or so to paint over the holes and dings and dents. I don't build houses for a living. I also no longer have chopstick size holes next to all my upstairs light switches (I am saving the downstairs for another day).
Now there is the small matter of that pesky 1500 lb. gun safe in our office...
Thursday, March 5, 2009
The Latest Cake
Here is the latest creation in my "Almost Ace of Cakes" repertoire. I really wanted the Steelers to get into the Super Bowl because their logo seemed so easy to pipe. I was wrong! The Cardinal was MUCH easier.
Here is the rest of the spread from the Super Bowl party. As always, there was a TON of leftovers. Maybe next time, I will just order pizza.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Accountability
I am really good at starting things around the house but sometimes not as good at finishing them. Next week is Furlough Break- I refer to it this way because, being a grownup, Spring Break seems so last season and USU has issued a furlough for all employees over said Spring Break. Something about saving money and not having to eliminate positions. Anyway, Dr. HokieKev will be out of town for the first half of Furlough Break- at least we are assuming he will be out of town, somewhere, on the East Coast- which translates into it being a good time for me to get some stuff done. I find it much easier to get certain things done when Dr. HokieKev is out of town. I don't have to worry about fixing dinner or relocating misplaced items or picking up stray socks so I can focus on trying to finish the things I start. In an effort to actually finish the several things I have planned for Furlough Break, I figured I would post them on the interwebs because- as we all know- if they are on the interwebs, they have to get done. So here goes...
What I Will Accomplish Over Furlough Break
1. Match living room paint and touch up all the walls
2. Clean the kitchen really well
3. Hang the picture frames in the guest bedroom
4. Find or build a bedframe for guest bedroom #2
5. Clean the master bath really well
6. Install fancy shower head in downstairs bathroom
7. Find two brown, quilted euro shams for the master bedroom that do not cost $99.99 each
8. Figure out something to do with all the mail
9. Organize the laundry room/tv equipment room
10. Build a coat rack for the laundry room
#1 should not be too hard if I can convince the man at Sherwin Williams that I would rather have him match the paint color than purchase a gallon of paint from the man at Kwal's who talked to me like I was 5. I hate that.
#4 can't be that hard. Certainly, I can screw a piece of plywood to some wood blocks and turn it into a bed frame. Hopefully, the guy at Home Depot agrees. While I am at it, I can pick up supplies for #10. I took shop class in 6th grade- I have a drill.
The cleaning stuff- well, it is cleaning stuff. At least with Dr. HokieKev gone it will stay clean for a few days.
#7 will be the hardest I am sure. My boyfriend, Restoration Hardware, is currently running a sale on the shams that need my bed. The problem is they no longer have them in chocolate. Sheesh! Hopefully, a trip to HomeGoods can remedy the problem. Don't worry- Restoration Hardware knows its place in my heart (as does Dr. HokieKev).
So there you have it- my plans for Sunday- Thursday. Thursday we are going to Reno to the WAC Basketball Championship. Then Dr. HokieKev will be home- expecting dinner!
What I Will Accomplish Over Furlough Break
1. Match living room paint and touch up all the walls
2. Clean the kitchen really well
3. Hang the picture frames in the guest bedroom
4. Find or build a bedframe for guest bedroom #2
5. Clean the master bath really well
6. Install fancy shower head in downstairs bathroom
7. Find two brown, quilted euro shams for the master bedroom that do not cost $99.99 each
8. Figure out something to do with all the mail
9. Organize the laundry room/tv equipment room
10. Build a coat rack for the laundry room
#1 should not be too hard if I can convince the man at Sherwin Williams that I would rather have him match the paint color than purchase a gallon of paint from the man at Kwal's who talked to me like I was 5. I hate that.
#4 can't be that hard. Certainly, I can screw a piece of plywood to some wood blocks and turn it into a bed frame. Hopefully, the guy at Home Depot agrees. While I am at it, I can pick up supplies for #10. I took shop class in 6th grade- I have a drill.
The cleaning stuff- well, it is cleaning stuff. At least with Dr. HokieKev gone it will stay clean for a few days.
#7 will be the hardest I am sure. My boyfriend, Restoration Hardware, is currently running a sale on the shams that need my bed. The problem is they no longer have them in chocolate. Sheesh! Hopefully, a trip to HomeGoods can remedy the problem. Don't worry- Restoration Hardware knows its place in my heart (as does Dr. HokieKev).
So there you have it- my plans for Sunday- Thursday. Thursday we are going to Reno to the WAC Basketball Championship. Then Dr. HokieKev will be home- expecting dinner!
Monday, March 2, 2009
Flashback to November
Way back in November, Dr. HokieKev's best friend, Tim, got married. We made the trek to Richmond, VA for the wedding. As always, I took some pictures that took forever to get uploaded to the computer. The wedding was held at a historic mansion- complete with mossy bricks and gazebos. It really was a great affair and I am glad the rain in the forecast stayed away. Dr. HokieKev and I had a great time- Drunk Dr. HokieKev even made an appearrance. I bring this up because it is a VERY rare occurance but I think the peer pressure got to him on this one! If nothing else, the rehersal evening proved to many that we are no longer in college and cannot party as though we are. The picture below is from the end of the reception- it for more, including some from the ceremony. If you look closely, you may be able to see uptight wedding planner chick. Seriously, if Prozac was created with any specific person in mind- it would be her!
Sunday, March 1, 2009
The Funniest Thing I Heard Today
Today was Sunday. I tend to sleep in on Sundays even now that I am, as my friend Mona says, A real live grownup. I usually don't sleep past ten but today I didn't feel the need to roll out of bed until noon- I think it is my brain retaliating for making it get up so early to go snowboarding the last few weekends. I also have a penchant for waking up, looking at the clock, and rolling over for "10 more minutes." During these "10 minutes" I usually have really whacked out dreams- yesterday, I was eating cake on the top a a giant, snow covered mountain with Jenn from work while discussing the secret underground in Park City. Today, I was arguing with a manager of a train terminal in Washington, DC that I really needed a bed if he was going to stop running trains to South Carolina.
So anyway, I wake up thismorning afternoon for the third or forth time and decide that maybe I should actually get out of bed and try to do something productive since it was too warm to go snowboarding. Bleery eyed, I stumble out into the living room to find Dr. HokieKev engrossed in something scholarly a poker game on his computer. This was our conversation:
Me: Do you want breakfast?
Dr. HokieKev: I was just thinking about making pancakes.
Me: What? You were going to do what...
Dr. HokieKev: Well, I was thinking I would make some pancakes.
Me: You... were going to make pancakes? When have you ever made pancakes? Or breakfast, for that matter? Do you even know how to make pancakes?
Dr. HokieKev: Well, I was thinking about it.
Me: ::laughing:: So, I take it you want pancakes?
Dr. HokieKev: With chocolate chips...
Me: How old are you?
Dr. HokieKev: ::laughing:: Six
I found the whole conversation amusing. Dr. HokieKev can grill- in fact, he does it often. He can also make tacos- although, he does that WAY less frequently. I think I have also seen him make a grilled cheese or two and heat up various frozen, boxed foods. However,I have never seen him even attempt to cook breakfast. Well, maybe that isn't true. I have seen him try- once- to make eggs. Here is how that went:
::Flashback to Massachusetts in or around 2004::
Dr. HokieKev: I am going to go make some eggs.
Me: Do you know how to make eggs?
Dr. HokieKev: Yeah, I mean how hard could it be.
Me: Okay.
Dr. HokieKev: What pan do I use?
Me: The small one.
Dr. HokieKev: Do I melt the butter or scramble it in with the eggs?
Me: Melt it first.
Dr. HokieKev: Where is that pan?
Me: Ugh, let me just do it.
See, breakfast and Dr. HokieKev really don't go together. Although, he did admit that he did this on purpose because he did not want to make the eggs. This story ended with me cooking up some chocolate chip pancakes on the skillet I once hated but have now decided is much more efficient than a pan when making breakfast foods. Dr. HokieKev got down the skillet. He also started dinner tonight- Lasagna, from a box.
So anyway, I wake up this
Me: Do you want breakfast?
Dr. HokieKev: I was just thinking about making pancakes.
Me: What? You were going to do what...
Dr. HokieKev: Well, I was thinking I would make some pancakes.
Me: You... were going to make pancakes? When have you ever made pancakes? Or breakfast, for that matter? Do you even know how to make pancakes?
Dr. HokieKev: Well, I was thinking about it.
Me: ::laughing:: So, I take it you want pancakes?
Dr. HokieKev: With chocolate chips...
Me: How old are you?
Dr. HokieKev: ::laughing:: Six
I found the whole conversation amusing. Dr. HokieKev can grill- in fact, he does it often. He can also make tacos- although, he does that WAY less frequently. I think I have also seen him make a grilled cheese or two and heat up various frozen, boxed foods. However,I have never seen him even attempt to cook breakfast. Well, maybe that isn't true. I have seen him try- once- to make eggs. Here is how that went:
::Flashback to Massachusetts in or around 2004::
Dr. HokieKev: I am going to go make some eggs.
Me: Do you know how to make eggs?
Dr. HokieKev: Yeah, I mean how hard could it be.
Me: Okay.
Dr. HokieKev: What pan do I use?
Me: The small one.
Dr. HokieKev: Do I melt the butter or scramble it in with the eggs?
Me: Melt it first.
Dr. HokieKev: Where is that pan?
Me: Ugh, let me just do it.
See, breakfast and Dr. HokieKev really don't go together. Although, he did admit that he did this on purpose because he did not want to make the eggs. This story ended with me cooking up some chocolate chip pancakes on the skillet I once hated but have now decided is much more efficient than a pan when making breakfast foods. Dr. HokieKev got down the skillet. He also started dinner tonight- Lasagna, from a box.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Some Things Never Change
Picture for a moment my 15 year old self tumbling her way across the floor at gymnastics practice. Roundoff, backhandspring, backhandspring, back tuck. Lather, rinse, repeat. Now imagine my 15 year old self landing one of those back tucks where her right ankle decides it doesn't want to play anymore and, instead of standing strong for the landing, rolls flat while the leg stays straight. Apparently, it popped. Apparently, it was loud enough for everyone in the gym to stop what they were doing and ask if I was okay. After hopping around for a moment, my 15 year old self decided the ankle was fine and kept on tumbling. Yeah, probably not the best decision but 15 year old selves don't think of that. Twelve years later, the right ankle is still a problem. Thankfully, it doesn't tend to get humid and rainy in Utah and needless to say, the ankle did not like Florida humidity.
Fast forward to last Sunday. My 27 year old self decides to leave the safety of the baby mountain while snowboarding and show off my newly acquired snowboarding skills on the real mountain. After a couple successful practice runs down the baby mountain, I head up to the top with Dr. HokieKev and some friends who, compared to me, are ready for the Olympics. I do okay especially since I have left the safety of the green circles for the slightly harder blue squares. I have to stop a few times- the altitude is an ass kicker- but otherwise felt pretty good about the big mountain. I fall once, pretty epically sliding down the mountain (note to self, back flip will not stop the siding. It will continue, but now hurt more since your face is in the snow), but manage to stop myself before hitting a tree. I am sure my expert skier friends were laughing. But remember, they are ready for the Olympics, they can laugh and ski at the same time- so maybe I deserve it. Anyway, I make it down the mountain to a nice, flat, "easy" part. I lose my momentum and fall straight on my head. I guess I put my hands behind me to stop my head from ricocheting on the ice- it didn't work. My head went crack. Dr. HokieKev asked if my head was all right and told me to get up. I put my hands down to push myself up and...nothing...my wrist was having none of it.
I somehow manage to pull myself together and get back to the lift. As I am holding my wrist trying to convince Dr. HokieKev that I can still feel my fingers so it must be okay, Ski Patrol Man comes over to offer me a splint and a bag of snow. A BAG OF SNOW?!? Um...no thanks dude, I am fine...yeah, fine. I can still move my fingers, nothing is swollen, I may be on the verge of tears but I am not bleeding, time to go back up the mountain. Thanks though! And back up the mountain we all went- my Olympic-ready skier friends and I!
All was fine. It was cold so my wrist was frozen. I went down a black diamond and only fell once- a little fall. Weird that I can't do the "easy," flat stuff but I managed to get down the black diamond alive and unharmed. I also managed to get off the lift without falling more times than not and my tailbone escaped without being bruised. So anyway, we got home and thawed out and- HOLY WHOA THAT HURTS!- I guess my wrist wasn't that okay. In theory, one would go to the emergency room. In practice, I felt that unnecessary. I have a pretty high tolerance for injury pain but an incredibly low one for ANYTHING involving medical personnel. Besides, emergency rooms take forever and cost alot of money. All they would do is give me a brace and some x-rays and tell me to go to a doctor on Monday. I can do that myself- well, not the x-ray part but the rest. Three stores and 11 bucks later, I had a wrist brace. My 15 year old self would be proud.
Some things never change.
P.S.- Two days later, it still hurts. Yesterday, I could barely brush my hair. Dr. HokieKev had to hook my bra- something I am sure he never thought he would have to do. I spent most of the day using my left hand for anything that involved a turning motion. It is really hard to do things with the left hand. Today was a bit better. I did have to suck it up and take off the brace to write. I can't write with my left hand. Hopefully, this trend of getting better continues.
Fast forward to last Sunday. My 27 year old self decides to leave the safety of the baby mountain while snowboarding and show off my newly acquired snowboarding skills on the real mountain. After a couple successful practice runs down the baby mountain, I head up to the top with Dr. HokieKev and some friends who, compared to me, are ready for the Olympics. I do okay especially since I have left the safety of the green circles for the slightly harder blue squares. I have to stop a few times- the altitude is an ass kicker- but otherwise felt pretty good about the big mountain. I fall once, pretty epically sliding down the mountain (note to self, back flip will not stop the siding. It will continue, but now hurt more since your face is in the snow), but manage to stop myself before hitting a tree. I am sure my expert skier friends were laughing. But remember, they are ready for the Olympics, they can laugh and ski at the same time- so maybe I deserve it. Anyway, I make it down the mountain to a nice, flat, "easy" part. I lose my momentum and fall straight on my head. I guess I put my hands behind me to stop my head from ricocheting on the ice- it didn't work. My head went crack. Dr. HokieKev asked if my head was all right and told me to get up. I put my hands down to push myself up and...nothing...my wrist was having none of it.
I somehow manage to pull myself together and get back to the lift. As I am holding my wrist trying to convince Dr. HokieKev that I can still feel my fingers so it must be okay, Ski Patrol Man comes over to offer me a splint and a bag of snow. A BAG OF SNOW?!? Um...no thanks dude, I am fine...yeah, fine. I can still move my fingers, nothing is swollen, I may be on the verge of tears but I am not bleeding, time to go back up the mountain. Thanks though! And back up the mountain we all went- my Olympic-ready skier friends and I!
All was fine. It was cold so my wrist was frozen. I went down a black diamond and only fell once- a little fall. Weird that I can't do the "easy," flat stuff but I managed to get down the black diamond alive and unharmed. I also managed to get off the lift without falling more times than not and my tailbone escaped without being bruised. So anyway, we got home and thawed out and- HOLY WHOA THAT HURTS!- I guess my wrist wasn't that okay. In theory, one would go to the emergency room. In practice, I felt that unnecessary. I have a pretty high tolerance for injury pain but an incredibly low one for ANYTHING involving medical personnel. Besides, emergency rooms take forever and cost alot of money. All they would do is give me a brace and some x-rays and tell me to go to a doctor on Monday. I can do that myself- well, not the x-ray part but the rest. Three stores and 11 bucks later, I had a wrist brace. My 15 year old self would be proud.
Some things never change.
P.S.- Two days later, it still hurts. Yesterday, I could barely brush my hair. Dr. HokieKev had to hook my bra- something I am sure he never thought he would have to do. I spent most of the day using my left hand for anything that involved a turning motion. It is really hard to do things with the left hand. Today was a bit better. I did have to suck it up and take off the brace to write. I can't write with my left hand. Hopefully, this trend of getting better continues.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Introducing Señor Chairlift
With Ice Butt sufficiently conquered, this past weekend I met a new foe- Señor Chairlift! Let's recap:
Take 1: Make it sufficiently off the lift and out of the way before falling
Take 2: Coast off the lift- no one is around to see
Take 3: Coast off the lift and around the corner before falling on my face
Take 4: Coast off the lift- no one is around to see
Take 5: Wait too long to put snowboard onto the snow, fall on butt immediately, whip head back and crack it on the ice. Chairlift Dude comes out to make sure I am not dead and still know my name. Dr. HokieKev laughs.
Take 6: Overcompensate by putting snowboard down too early, hold onto Señor Chairlift as not to fall to a certain death (okay...fall a foot, but still), almost recover before falling, fail to duck, get hit in the head with the chair. Chairlift Dude comes out to make sure I am okay. This time he tells me what I did wrong. Dr. HokieKev laughs.
Take 7- Snowboard down at the right time. SPLAT! Duck! Dr. HokieKev laughs.
On the plus side, I made it down the mountain 7 times in 3 hours. HUGE improvement!
Take 1: Make it sufficiently off the lift and out of the way before falling
Take 2: Coast off the lift- no one is around to see
Take 3: Coast off the lift and around the corner before falling on my face
Take 4: Coast off the lift- no one is around to see
Take 5: Wait too long to put snowboard onto the snow, fall on butt immediately, whip head back and crack it on the ice. Chairlift Dude comes out to make sure I am not dead and still know my name. Dr. HokieKev laughs.
Take 6: Overcompensate by putting snowboard down too early, hold onto Señor Chairlift as not to fall to a certain death (okay...fall a foot, but still), almost recover before falling, fail to duck, get hit in the head with the chair. Chairlift Dude comes out to make sure I am okay. This time he tells me what I did wrong. Dr. HokieKev laughs.
Take 7- Snowboard down at the right time. SPLAT! Duck! Dr. HokieKev laughs.
On the plus side, I made it down the mountain 7 times in 3 hours. HUGE improvement!
Monday, January 26, 2009
Because all the Cool Kids are Doing it
Since three people have "tagged" me on Facebook, I caved and decided to do this little ditty. So without further ado:
25 Random Things About Me
1. I can't stand turtlenecks. I blame this on my mother who used to dress me in Osh Kosh B'Gosh turtlenecks everyday when I was little. Crew necks are semi tolerable if they do not come up to high. V Necks are highly preferable.
2. Sometimes when I hit snooze on the alarm and fall back asleep between buzzes, I dream that I am getting up, showering, and getting dressed. I am usually awoken by Dr. HokieKev dragging me out of bed as I protest that I am, in fact, dressed and ready to go.
3. Dazed and Confused is my favorite movie ever- since the 8th grade. The first time I watched it was with my mom and my middle school best friend. I have never smoked marijuana in my whole life. I also like to watch cheesy movies on Disney and ABC Family- mostly because they require no thought.
4. I often tease Dr. HokieKev for not being a "real doctor" but I am really proud of him for being a "fake doctor."
5. I hold grudges against people I don't know. I am pretty quick to forgive those I do know. I realize that said grudges are not productive in anyway.
6. I desperately want my house to look like a page from a magazine. We have too much clutter to make this happen but I am working on it.
7. I still have two boxes of my childhood stuffed animals in the closet. It took me 27 years to get rid of the other 6 boxes. I think there are two more at my parents' house.
8. I want to write a textbook on American history or maybe the teaching of American history. I want it to be practical and not boring. I have no idea how to go about starting this process.
9. I think I am a pretty intelligent individual. I hate it when people underestimate me because I am a girl with blond hair and big boobs. I like to prove these people wrong.
10. I am in a sorority. Parts of me are very "sorority girl" however, most parts are not.
11. I firmly believe every individual should have to take a class on the proper placement of the comma. I tend to be somewhat of a grammar nazi. Along these lines, I proofread blogs many times over and sometimes go back and edit them days after they have been posted. It distresses me that many people do not care how they come across in formal (or informal) writing.
12. Cooked vegetables disgust me. Cooked celery is the worst. The only cooked vegetables I will eat are potatoes, corn, and spinach.
13. I really want a pair of knee high, black, hooker boots. My calf muscles are too big to pull off this look. They always have been.
14. I hate it when people are intolerant of others. I am a big believer in being able to do what you want with your life as long as you are not harming others. And by harming others, I don't mean threatening their traditions or questioning their beliefs. Closemindedness annoys me.
15. I rarely leave the house without make-up. I rarely put make-up on when I have nowhere to go. I usually don't take the time to do my hair. It takes too long and ends up flat anyway.
16. I only read the first three chapters of The Great Gatsby and The Scarlett Letter and Wuthering Heights. There are also MANY other books that I never read, yet successfully completed book reports for. Sometimes, I regret this and vow to go back and read these books. Then I realize that I really don't like American Lit, or British Lit for that matter. I did read The Stranger and I liked it. I also like Edgar Allen Poe and Louis Carroll.
17. In a former life, I was an American History teacher. I do not watch the History Channel. I also don't like biographies of most traditionally historic figures. In fact, I don't usually enjoy reading books about history. Unless they are interesting or slightly subversive.
18. Sometimes, I like to pretend I am Martha Stewart, or the Ace of Cakes, or the Iron Chef. Sometimes, it works. Sometimes, it is an EPIC FAIL! I try to take pictures either way.
19. I am very good at halfway completing projects around the house. I still need to hang pictures that have recently been framed. And paint over holes the previous owners left. And organize several rooms. And post pictures going back to November. I also need to finish my college scrapbook- and my high school scrapbook for that matter.
20. I registered for a drill when Dr. HokieKev and I got married. I love my drill. I can also fix a toilet.
21. I am not a morning person. In my former life as a teacher, school started at 7:40 in the am. I was pretty good at faking it- most days. Delay days were my favorite as I did not have to resemble awake until 10:30.
22. I like learning about other cultures and religions. This does not make me culturally diverse or religious. I am ok with that.
23. I took four years of French in high school. I can't write it. I can't speak it. I can understand it to a point. I think I could make my way around- if the people giving directions spoke slowly or wrote it down. The only sentence I can say in Spanish is "Where is the library?" My mother taught me that. I really want to learn to speak Italian.
24. I am addicted to reading blogs. If you have a blog and I know about it, I am most likely reading it. I have a few blogs bookmarked- they are written by people I don't know. Most have to do with decorating.
25. I was in Show Choir in High School. I can sing well. I do not sing in public. I can also dance. I am told my dancing abilities surprise people.
I am also supposed to tag 25 more people to do this. I don't think 25 people read this. I tagged people on Facebook.
25 Random Things About Me
1. I can't stand turtlenecks. I blame this on my mother who used to dress me in Osh Kosh B'Gosh turtlenecks everyday when I was little. Crew necks are semi tolerable if they do not come up to high. V Necks are highly preferable.
2. Sometimes when I hit snooze on the alarm and fall back asleep between buzzes, I dream that I am getting up, showering, and getting dressed. I am usually awoken by Dr. HokieKev dragging me out of bed as I protest that I am, in fact, dressed and ready to go.
3. Dazed and Confused is my favorite movie ever- since the 8th grade. The first time I watched it was with my mom and my middle school best friend. I have never smoked marijuana in my whole life. I also like to watch cheesy movies on Disney and ABC Family- mostly because they require no thought.
4. I often tease Dr. HokieKev for not being a "real doctor" but I am really proud of him for being a "fake doctor."
5. I hold grudges against people I don't know. I am pretty quick to forgive those I do know. I realize that said grudges are not productive in anyway.
6. I desperately want my house to look like a page from a magazine. We have too much clutter to make this happen but I am working on it.
7. I still have two boxes of my childhood stuffed animals in the closet. It took me 27 years to get rid of the other 6 boxes. I think there are two more at my parents' house.
8. I want to write a textbook on American history or maybe the teaching of American history. I want it to be practical and not boring. I have no idea how to go about starting this process.
9. I think I am a pretty intelligent individual. I hate it when people underestimate me because I am a girl with blond hair and big boobs. I like to prove these people wrong.
10. I am in a sorority. Parts of me are very "sorority girl" however, most parts are not.
11. I firmly believe every individual should have to take a class on the proper placement of the comma. I tend to be somewhat of a grammar nazi. Along these lines, I proofread blogs many times over and sometimes go back and edit them days after they have been posted. It distresses me that many people do not care how they come across in formal (or informal) writing.
12. Cooked vegetables disgust me. Cooked celery is the worst. The only cooked vegetables I will eat are potatoes, corn, and spinach.
13. I really want a pair of knee high, black, hooker boots. My calf muscles are too big to pull off this look. They always have been.
14. I hate it when people are intolerant of others. I am a big believer in being able to do what you want with your life as long as you are not harming others. And by harming others, I don't mean threatening their traditions or questioning their beliefs. Closemindedness annoys me.
15. I rarely leave the house without make-up. I rarely put make-up on when I have nowhere to go. I usually don't take the time to do my hair. It takes too long and ends up flat anyway.
16. I only read the first three chapters of The Great Gatsby and The Scarlett Letter and Wuthering Heights. There are also MANY other books that I never read, yet successfully completed book reports for. Sometimes, I regret this and vow to go back and read these books. Then I realize that I really don't like American Lit, or British Lit for that matter. I did read The Stranger and I liked it. I also like Edgar Allen Poe and Louis Carroll.
17. In a former life, I was an American History teacher. I do not watch the History Channel. I also don't like biographies of most traditionally historic figures. In fact, I don't usually enjoy reading books about history. Unless they are interesting or slightly subversive.
18. Sometimes, I like to pretend I am Martha Stewart, or the Ace of Cakes, or the Iron Chef. Sometimes, it works. Sometimes, it is an EPIC FAIL! I try to take pictures either way.
19. I am very good at halfway completing projects around the house. I still need to hang pictures that have recently been framed. And paint over holes the previous owners left. And organize several rooms. And post pictures going back to November. I also need to finish my college scrapbook- and my high school scrapbook for that matter.
20. I registered for a drill when Dr. HokieKev and I got married. I love my drill. I can also fix a toilet.
21. I am not a morning person. In my former life as a teacher, school started at 7:40 in the am. I was pretty good at faking it- most days. Delay days were my favorite as I did not have to resemble awake until 10:30.
22. I like learning about other cultures and religions. This does not make me culturally diverse or religious. I am ok with that.
23. I took four years of French in high school. I can't write it. I can't speak it. I can understand it to a point. I think I could make my way around- if the people giving directions spoke slowly or wrote it down. The only sentence I can say in Spanish is "Where is the library?" My mother taught me that. I really want to learn to speak Italian.
24. I am addicted to reading blogs. If you have a blog and I know about it, I am most likely reading it. I have a few blogs bookmarked- they are written by people I don't know. Most have to do with decorating.
25. I was in Show Choir in High School. I can sing well. I do not sing in public. I can also dance. I am told my dancing abilities surprise people.
I am also supposed to tag 25 more people to do this. I don't think 25 people read this. I tagged people on Facebook.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
If This is What it Takes...
I have been trying to sign up for and pay for one class for the last week and a half. ONE CLASS! In the process, I have had to visit the registrar three times, admissions once, and human resources once. I finally got it taken care of today- I think. This letter/rant is dedicated to the jerkface at the registrar's office who is apparently too cool to do his job.
Dear Registrar Jerkface,
You are lucky you did not get a stiletto up your nose today. Yes, I am a girl. Yes, I could kick your ass from here to next Tuesday. Is it really that hard to process my request the first time I come to visit you? I mean, maybe I stuttered but really, how hard is it to hear "my husband is a full time, contracted, tenure track professor. Do you need his ID number?" Really that is all the information you should have needed to process my tuition waiver. Please do not tell me that we are not married. I beg to differ. If we are not married, whose socks have I been picking up off the floor for the last four and a half years?
Also, I know how to tell time. I have known this since I was what...six? Please do not tell me that I have notwasted my life away waited in line for over 30 minutes because, yes, between last week and today I have stood in your stupid line for almost 45 minutes to get the same ONE thing taken care of. I guess you don't think I have better things to do. Well, let us get this straight- I do. The papers will not grade themselves, the student teachers will not observe themselves, the book will not read itself, the grocery shopping will not do itself, and well, you get the picture.
There was also no need to smirk and talk to me like I was three. If you want to judge me for signing up for graduate classes, go right ahead. I am sorry you are living in 1954 where women are expected to stay home with the kiddos while Daddy goes off to work. What a lovely picture, you can go watch it on TV Land as I hear they are still airing The Dick Van Dyke Show. I, for one, don't have any kiddos running around. And that is beside the point anyway. I am a fairly intelligent individual and am pretty confident that I could handle at least one class, work, and kiddos (and I could probably also manage to wrangle said kiddos up in the Wal-Mart parking lot so as they do not get run over). Maybe that is because my husband, the aforementioned tenure track professor, is capable of fixing said future kiddos dinner (even if it is just grilled cheese, or macaroni and cheese, or crackers and cheese, or some other cheese related meal) and entertaining them for a couple hours once a week. But then again, you would probably judge him too. Your snarky tone did nothing but tick me off. It did not discourage me from signing up for a class. I am also fairly confident that I could out-snark you anyday. You would leave in tears, probably pulling a stiletto out of your nose.
I hope you enjoy your work study job sitting in the window at the registrar's office. And I also hope that my little form declaring that I am married to my husband- the man with the SAME last name living at the SAME address as I- gave you a paper cut.
Sincerely,
The girl that wears stilettos in the snow
P.S. It is amazing that, the second I got to speak with her, the real live grownup at the next window was able to take care of this little problem in a fairly expedited way.
Dear Registrar Jerkface,
You are lucky you did not get a stiletto up your nose today. Yes, I am a girl. Yes, I could kick your ass from here to next Tuesday. Is it really that hard to process my request the first time I come to visit you? I mean, maybe I stuttered but really, how hard is it to hear "my husband is a full time, contracted, tenure track professor. Do you need his ID number?" Really that is all the information you should have needed to process my tuition waiver. Please do not tell me that we are not married. I beg to differ. If we are not married, whose socks have I been picking up off the floor for the last four and a half years?
Also, I know how to tell time. I have known this since I was what...six? Please do not tell me that I have not
There was also no need to smirk and talk to me like I was three. If you want to judge me for signing up for graduate classes, go right ahead. I am sorry you are living in 1954 where women are expected to stay home with the kiddos while Daddy goes off to work. What a lovely picture, you can go watch it on TV Land as I hear they are still airing The Dick Van Dyke Show. I, for one, don't have any kiddos running around. And that is beside the point anyway. I am a fairly intelligent individual and am pretty confident that I could handle at least one class, work, and kiddos (and I could probably also manage to wrangle said kiddos up in the Wal-Mart parking lot so as they do not get run over). Maybe that is because my husband, the aforementioned tenure track professor, is capable of fixing said future kiddos dinner (even if it is just grilled cheese, or macaroni and cheese, or crackers and cheese, or some other cheese related meal) and entertaining them for a couple hours once a week. But then again, you would probably judge him too. Your snarky tone did nothing but tick me off. It did not discourage me from signing up for a class. I am also fairly confident that I could out-snark you anyday. You would leave in tears, probably pulling a stiletto out of your nose.
I hope you enjoy your work study job sitting in the window at the registrar's office. And I also hope that my little form declaring that I am married to my husband- the man with the SAME last name living at the SAME address as I- gave you a paper cut.
Sincerely,
The girl that wears stilettos in the snow
P.S. It is amazing that, the second I got to speak with her, the real live grownup at the next window was able to take care of this little problem in a fairly expedited way.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Life Lesson #3974- The Peanut Butter Will Not Kill You
I like Peter Pan peanut butter- it is pretty much the only peanut butter that I like. Skippy is gross and JIF will not do. But once again, my peanut butter has been yanked from the shelves due to a supposed poisoning. Some of us remember this unfortunate incident:
___________________________________________________________________
October 7, 2007
I really miss Peter Pan peanut butter :-( For those of you that do not remember, it was recalled in February after an unfortunate incident with a leaky sprinkler and an outbreak of salmonella. Shortly thereafter, they pulled the creamy goodness that was Peter Pan peanut butter from grocery store shelves all over the country. I, like many others, rushed to my pantry to determine whether or not I had any potentially deadly peanut butter and, much to my dismay, discovered that I did. Well, the entire process to claim my three dollar refund seemed way too time consuming at the time and, since I was only losing out on about three bucks, I decided I would just throw it away.....eventually. Well, eventually never came. And then one day.......the rice cakes came calling.....”top me with peanut buttery goodness.” So, now I had a decision to make- eat the diseased peanut butter and risk a horrible stomach ache from salmonella or let my butter popcorn rice cakes go naked. I guess I could have gone to the store and bought some new, non diseased peanut butter but that would mean potentially getting dressed and venturing into the night (this could have been an afternoon episode but it was months ago and I do not remember). Salmonella/Instant Gratification....hmmmm......Instant Gratification!!! So, I ate the peanut butter....in fact, I ate two whole jars of the peanut butter! (Not at the same time, but eventually) I half expected to be making a midnight run to the emergency room to have my stomach pumped, but that didn't happen. In fact, I was fine but little did I know that would be the last Peter Pan peanut butter I would eat, possibly forever :-( For the last seven months I have had to live with second rate peanut butter on my rice cakes. All I have to say is....choosy moms should never choose JIF. It is HORRIBLE!!! I would rather take my chances with salmonella! So, I did the only thing I could think of, I wikipediaed Peter Pan....because we all know that if it is on wikipedia then it MUST be true....and was very happy to see it would be returning in August to a grocery store near me. Well....its October and still no sign of the stuff.
Dear whoever makes Peter Pan peanut butter,
Please give me back my peanut butter with the androgynous little sprite on the front. I miss it and Skippy and JIF are just not the same. I promise I will not sue you if I get salmonella.
Thanks!
Now before anyone gets their panties in a bunch, I would never feed diseased peanut butter to my children. Had I had any, I would have bought them fresh, new, choosy moms peanut butter free of salmonella, e. coli, mad cow, smallpox, scurvy, cholera, and dysentery. But I was pretty confident my immune system could handle it.
___________________________________________________________________
My distress ended when my friend Mona overnighted me some delicious Peter Pan peanut butter thus preventing me from having to stomach the nonsense that is JIF. And then we moved to Utah and apparently they hadn't yet gotten the memo that peanut butter was off the FDA's "Foods That Will Kill You" list and I once again had trouble finding my brand. After about a month of living here, I finally found some at Target of all places. Eventually, it filtered back to the grocery stores and my rice cakes had a cromulent (Wikipedia=true, remember?) companion, until now- damn salmonella. I guess I will have to make another trip to the closest Target- 30 minutes away- and hope they have not yet gotten the memo that Reduced Fat Creamy Peter Pan Peanut Butter is once again deadly!
___________________________________________________________________
October 7, 2007
I really miss Peter Pan peanut butter :-( For those of you that do not remember, it was recalled in February after an unfortunate incident with a leaky sprinkler and an outbreak of salmonella. Shortly thereafter, they pulled the creamy goodness that was Peter Pan peanut butter from grocery store shelves all over the country. I, like many others, rushed to my pantry to determine whether or not I had any potentially deadly peanut butter and, much to my dismay, discovered that I did. Well, the entire process to claim my three dollar refund seemed way too time consuming at the time and, since I was only losing out on about three bucks, I decided I would just throw it away.....eventually. Well, eventually never came. And then one day.......the rice cakes came calling.....”top me with peanut buttery goodness.” So, now I had a decision to make- eat the diseased peanut butter and risk a horrible stomach ache from salmonella or let my butter popcorn rice cakes go naked. I guess I could have gone to the store and bought some new, non diseased peanut butter but that would mean potentially getting dressed and venturing into the night (this could have been an afternoon episode but it was months ago and I do not remember). Salmonella/Instant Gratification....hmmmm......Instant Gratification!!! So, I ate the peanut butter....in fact, I ate two whole jars of the peanut butter! (Not at the same time, but eventually) I half expected to be making a midnight run to the emergency room to have my stomach pumped, but that didn't happen. In fact, I was fine but little did I know that would be the last Peter Pan peanut butter I would eat, possibly forever :-( For the last seven months I have had to live with second rate peanut butter on my rice cakes. All I have to say is....choosy moms should never choose JIF. It is HORRIBLE!!! I would rather take my chances with salmonella! So, I did the only thing I could think of, I wikipediaed Peter Pan....because we all know that if it is on wikipedia then it MUST be true....and was very happy to see it would be returning in August to a grocery store near me. Well....its October and still no sign of the stuff.
Dear whoever makes Peter Pan peanut butter,
Please give me back my peanut butter with the androgynous little sprite on the front. I miss it and Skippy and JIF are just not the same. I promise I will not sue you if I get salmonella.
Thanks!
Now before anyone gets their panties in a bunch, I would never feed diseased peanut butter to my children. Had I had any, I would have bought them fresh, new, choosy moms peanut butter free of salmonella, e. coli, mad cow, smallpox, scurvy, cholera, and dysentery. But I was pretty confident my immune system could handle it.
___________________________________________________________________
My distress ended when my friend Mona overnighted me some delicious Peter Pan peanut butter thus preventing me from having to stomach the nonsense that is JIF. And then we moved to Utah and apparently they hadn't yet gotten the memo that peanut butter was off the FDA's "Foods That Will Kill You" list and I once again had trouble finding my brand. After about a month of living here, I finally found some at Target of all places. Eventually, it filtered back to the grocery stores and my rice cakes had a cromulent (Wikipedia=true, remember?) companion, until now- damn salmonella. I guess I will have to make another trip to the closest Target- 30 minutes away- and hope they have not yet gotten the memo that Reduced Fat Creamy Peter Pan Peanut Butter is once again deadly!
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Revenge of Ice Butt
Thursday night, the ski mountain that is closest to us had a special night for USU Employees to raise money for some scholarships. Dr. HokieKev was out of town so I headed up to the mountain with my friend Jennifer and her husband, Tristan. Lessons were only $5 so I saw this as a good time to work on my less than mad snowboarding skills without having to pay Snowboard Dude another almost 100 bucks to watch me fall on my butt.
This time I thought I prepared a little better. I found some pants that were nice and baggy and came up higher on my waist. I wore gloves that were easier to pull off and put back on. I even left the face mask and all the extra gear I ended up taking off the last time at home. So we get there and we start our lesson. Luckily, not too many people wanted to learn to snowboard at 6:30 so it was just the three of us and the instructor (again, try to make sure instructor is not high- this may not always be possible). We worked on a couple of things I had learned last time and I managed to only fall once- improvement. After a little practice, we made it over to the lift which promptly decided to stop working. Luckily, there is a tiny little hill by the lift that we could walk up and practice our newly acquired skills until the lift started to work again.
Once the lift began to work, Tristan, Snowboard Dude 2, and I went up to the top to test our newly acquired mad snowboard skills. Jenn decided that maybe she is a sit by the pool kind of girl as well and stayed at the bottom to await our safe return. So we get up to the top and Snowboard Dude 2 was nice enough to get off the lift with me and hold on to me so I wouldn't face plant. And let me tell you, I had a death grip. So I made it off the lift in one piece, pants fully intact. Once we got to the top of the trail, we strapped on our boards and Snowboard Dude 2 was nice enough to help me up so we could get going. This time I did alot better. I fell a few times but Snowboard Dude 2 would come up and help me up, so that was less frustrating that last time. I would follow Tristan's snowtrail which somehow made it easier to concentrate and not fall. By then the lesson was over and well worth the $5 that was spent.
We decided we should make a couple more trips up the lift as to get the full benefit from the $12 lift tickets and our first task would be convincing Jenn she wouldn't die. After about 20 minutes, we were able to convince her that Tristan loved her and wouldn't let her die on the mountain. I also tried to bribe her with hot cocoa. She finally gave in after Tristan strapped her foot in the boot and pulled her onto the lift! Nothing like a little coercion to get you to the top of the mountain.
In the end, I ended up coming down the mountain four times and only falling about 10 times. Now, 10 times may seem like alot but you have to compare it to the first snowboaring experience when I fell every two feet. You also have to take into consideration that a couple times I fell on purpose because my legs just needed a rest and once I fell because some girl stuck her ski pole under my snowboard causeing both of us to flail down the mountain.
Overall, I considered this trip a success. That is, until I sat down to take my boots off and realized that Ice Butt had returned.
This time I thought I prepared a little better. I found some pants that were nice and baggy and came up higher on my waist. I wore gloves that were easier to pull off and put back on. I even left the face mask and all the extra gear I ended up taking off the last time at home. So we get there and we start our lesson. Luckily, not too many people wanted to learn to snowboard at 6:30 so it was just the three of us and the instructor (again, try to make sure instructor is not high- this may not always be possible). We worked on a couple of things I had learned last time and I managed to only fall once- improvement. After a little practice, we made it over to the lift which promptly decided to stop working. Luckily, there is a tiny little hill by the lift that we could walk up and practice our newly acquired skills until the lift started to work again.
Once the lift began to work, Tristan, Snowboard Dude 2, and I went up to the top to test our newly acquired mad snowboard skills. Jenn decided that maybe she is a sit by the pool kind of girl as well and stayed at the bottom to await our safe return. So we get up to the top and Snowboard Dude 2 was nice enough to get off the lift with me and hold on to me so I wouldn't face plant. And let me tell you, I had a death grip. So I made it off the lift in one piece, pants fully intact. Once we got to the top of the trail, we strapped on our boards and Snowboard Dude 2 was nice enough to help me up so we could get going. This time I did alot better. I fell a few times but Snowboard Dude 2 would come up and help me up, so that was less frustrating that last time. I would follow Tristan's snowtrail which somehow made it easier to concentrate and not fall. By then the lesson was over and well worth the $5 that was spent.
We decided we should make a couple more trips up the lift as to get the full benefit from the $12 lift tickets and our first task would be convincing Jenn she wouldn't die. After about 20 minutes, we were able to convince her that Tristan loved her and wouldn't let her die on the mountain. I also tried to bribe her with hot cocoa. She finally gave in after Tristan strapped her foot in the boot and pulled her onto the lift! Nothing like a little coercion to get you to the top of the mountain.
In the end, I ended up coming down the mountain four times and only falling about 10 times. Now, 10 times may seem like alot but you have to compare it to the first snowboaring experience when I fell every two feet. You also have to take into consideration that a couple times I fell on purpose because my legs just needed a rest and once I fell because some girl stuck her ski pole under my snowboard causeing both of us to flail down the mountain.
Overall, I considered this trip a success. That is, until I sat down to take my boots off and realized that Ice Butt had returned.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Sometimes Ignorance is Bliss
I have never been a huge fan of coffee. I will drink it if it is REALLY early or I am REALLY tired or it has a TON of milk and sugar in it. That started in high school when we would have to be at school at 5:30 in the am for show choir trips. That was early- too early. So I would make my way to 7-11 for coffee with a TON of chocolate milk. This was before there was a Starbucks on every corner.
Time passed and Starbucks began to take over the world. I still wasn't a huge fan and I clung to my cheapy 7-11 coffee. Then I met the Starbucks Mocha Latte and my life changed. I found that the Mocha Latte was dependable. Wherever I went (or moved), the Mocha Latte was there. Yes, it was a tad expensive but I guess you pay for the privilege of calling your drink a Grande. I lived for several years in the warm glow of these Mocha Latte's, only straying between Halloween and Christmas to the ever illustrious, and rather tasty Peppermint Mocha. My Mocha Lattes and I were doing just fine. And then I found out the truth.
See, Dr. HokieKev and I went to Seattle this summer. Apparently, coffee lives in Seattle. Or at least has a summer home there. So anyway, we went to Seattle to visit our friends Nilu and Rob and inevitably coffee came up. And Nilu told me the truth about Starbucks. If you like Starbucks, you may want to stop reading as I would hate to ruin it for you. They burn their beans when they roast them. This ensures that all Starbucks coffee tastes the exact same. I guess they don't want you to go to one Starbucks, get a cup of coffee, drink it and then go across the street to another Starbucks and have a different tasting coffee. They have to keep their corporate image. Anyway, ever since this revelation every time I drink my once tasty Mocha Latte, all I taste is burn. And that kind of ruins the experience.
Time passed and Starbucks began to take over the world. I still wasn't a huge fan and I clung to my cheapy 7-11 coffee. Then I met the Starbucks Mocha Latte and my life changed. I found that the Mocha Latte was dependable. Wherever I went (or moved), the Mocha Latte was there. Yes, it was a tad expensive but I guess you pay for the privilege of calling your drink a Grande. I lived for several years in the warm glow of these Mocha Latte's, only straying between Halloween and Christmas to the ever illustrious, and rather tasty Peppermint Mocha. My Mocha Lattes and I were doing just fine. And then I found out the truth.
See, Dr. HokieKev and I went to Seattle this summer. Apparently, coffee lives in Seattle. Or at least has a summer home there. So anyway, we went to Seattle to visit our friends Nilu and Rob and inevitably coffee came up. And Nilu told me the truth about Starbucks. If you like Starbucks, you may want to stop reading as I would hate to ruin it for you. They burn their beans when they roast them. This ensures that all Starbucks coffee tastes the exact same. I guess they don't want you to go to one Starbucks, get a cup of coffee, drink it and then go across the street to another Starbucks and have a different tasting coffee. They have to keep their corporate image. Anyway, ever since this revelation every time I drink my once tasty Mocha Latte, all I taste is burn. And that kind of ruins the experience.
Friday, January 9, 2009
When Dr. HokieKev is away...
Last time Dr. HokieKev went away for more than one day, I decided to refinish some tables. Why not, right? So anyway, my dad gave my mom these table for their 10th Anniversary leading me to believe they were about 15 years old...apparently he got them at an antique store making me wrong about their age. I figured this task wouldn't be so hard as they do it on TV in under an hour all the time (on TV=true, very important to remember). I also decided that, since it was my first foray into furniture refinishing, I would only refinish the tops. This is what they looked like before- the first one was one table pre-sand the second one is the other table, post sand.
Here are the tables mid-way through.
And here they are two coats of stain and two coats of polyerathane later.
Probably not perfect, but I think they turned out pretty well for the first attempt. I won't say it was a hard ordeal because it wasn't, but it was slightly more time consuming then I originally thought. It also took three different kinds of sandpaper. Needless to say, I am a very big proponent of coasters now!
Probably not perfect, but I think they turned out pretty well for the first attempt. I won't say it was a hard ordeal because it wasn't, but it was slightly more time consuming then I originally thought. It also took three different kinds of sandpaper. Needless to say, I am a very big proponent of coasters now!
Monday, January 5, 2009
Life Lesson # 987- How (NOT) to Snowboard
I want to be good at winter sports- I really do. The problem, however, is that I grew up on the water doing nice summery things and never did anything wintery until I was a grownup. Learning to ski when you are 6 is apparently easier than learning when you are 20. The other problem is that, to be good at something, you have to do it more than once a year. The 4 times I have been skiing in 7 years probably does not lead to getting good. And then we moved to Utah...supposedly, Utah has the greatest snow on earth- the license plate says so. Dr. HokieKev and I also have several friends who see going skiing every day as a fun activity. Yesterday, we decided to join them at the ungodly hour of 8 in the am and at the ungodly temperature of -30 degrees F (you read it right, NEGATIVE 30). So we met and made our way up the mountain to the ski area. I hesitate to call it a resort because a resort would have had a spa and I would have ended up there instead of on my butt all day.
I always feel bad when we go skiing. See, Dr. HokieKev knows what he is doing and, while he probably won't be joining the line to try out for the Olympics anytime soon, he is way beyond the green circle slopes which are pretty much at the top of my winter sports range. He wants to zoom down the slopes while I am perfectly content to coast along very slowly and stop (fall) several times along the way. He is pretty patient with me but I know its no fun. I also tend to fall alot on skis- face forward into cold, hard snow. These, along with other, reasons are what tempted me to try snowboarding. I figured I would either be a natural at it or, at the very least, would end up on my butt which has infinitely more padding than my face. And so began the day of discovering how (not) to snowboard. Let me share with you what I have learned.
1. It is well worth the $95 dollars for the two hour lesson. Snowboard Dude will teach you many useful things, like how to strap in your boots and how to get up after you fall on your butt. Try to make sure Snowboard Dude isn't stoned although this may not always be possible.
2. When you fall off the lift, duck. The last thing you need after sprawling yourself on the snow is to be hit in the head with a lift chair. You paid Snowboard Dude good money to pull you to safety.
3. Refrain from wearing those cute, lowrider snowpants. You will spend all day pulling them up as not to flash your cute blue panties to the entire mountain. If you are wearing long underwear, they will come up higher on the waist than said cute snowpants and will end up wet. Since it is -30, the wet will freeze and you will end up with ice butt. Ice butt is not fun. Suck it up and wear the non-cute overall snowpants like your mom used to make you wear to sled down the neighbor's driveway.
4. Nevermind the five year olds zooming past you after you have fallen on your butt for the hundredth time. If you mind them, it will just make you sad that they are all zoomy and you are indeed, on your butt.
5. When you make it down the mountain, sit down before you unstrap your boot. If you don't, you will end up sliding sideways down the bunny slope. You will have to fall to prevent this. Your butt already hurts.
6. Learn to turn the easy way before you start trying to turn the hard way. This is easier said than done.
7. When the lesson is over and you decide it is time for lunch, remember how many times you have fallen and that a frozen butt doesn't feel the pain. When you begin to defrost in the lodge, not only will ice butt melt but you will be reminded that your butt is now one big bruise.
8. Don't try to fancily get off the lift to keep up with your husband. Just go slow. Falling off the lift- again- is not fun. Especially since only one foot is strapped in. The free foot will go flying. If you are lucky, your knee will not twist and your cute, lowrider snowpants will not split down the front. I was not lucky. The only thing worse then ice butt is...well, you get the picture.
9. If necessary, sit in the snow while husband and friend go down the mountain. Maybe by the time they make it up the lift again, you will be ready to head down.
10. When you start to get going, just go with it. No need to scream and fall down- on your butt, once again. All that does is give you another chance to see all those five year olds go zoomy zoomy right by your crashed self.
11. Thank friend for telling you how to fall. Somehow, Snowboard Dude skipped that part. I am probably lucky my wrists are still in tact. (Thanks Chris!)
12. When you get home, first thing- pay attention, this is important- take a painkiller. Trust me, this is important. REALLY important. When you fully thaw, you will hurt. ALOT.
As we went to bed that night I looked over and apologized to Dr. HokieKev for not being good at winter sports. He replied, exact words, "It's okay. I am sure there is something I am not good at- I just haven't found it yet."
In conclusion, I have decided that- while I may brave the mountain again- I am definitely a summer sports kind of girl...or maybe a sit by the pool and sip fruity beverages kind of girl!
PS- It is Tuesday and I still hurt. Surprisingly, not in my legs but everywhere else. I cannot stress enough- Aleve is your friend.
I always feel bad when we go skiing. See, Dr. HokieKev knows what he is doing and, while he probably won't be joining the line to try out for the Olympics anytime soon, he is way beyond the green circle slopes which are pretty much at the top of my winter sports range. He wants to zoom down the slopes while I am perfectly content to coast along very slowly and stop (fall) several times along the way. He is pretty patient with me but I know its no fun. I also tend to fall alot on skis- face forward into cold, hard snow. These, along with other, reasons are what tempted me to try snowboarding. I figured I would either be a natural at it or, at the very least, would end up on my butt which has infinitely more padding than my face. And so began the day of discovering how (not) to snowboard. Let me share with you what I have learned.
1. It is well worth the $95 dollars for the two hour lesson. Snowboard Dude will teach you many useful things, like how to strap in your boots and how to get up after you fall on your butt. Try to make sure Snowboard Dude isn't stoned although this may not always be possible.
2. When you fall off the lift, duck. The last thing you need after sprawling yourself on the snow is to be hit in the head with a lift chair. You paid Snowboard Dude good money to pull you to safety.
3. Refrain from wearing those cute, lowrider snowpants. You will spend all day pulling them up as not to flash your cute blue panties to the entire mountain. If you are wearing long underwear, they will come up higher on the waist than said cute snowpants and will end up wet. Since it is -30, the wet will freeze and you will end up with ice butt. Ice butt is not fun. Suck it up and wear the non-cute overall snowpants like your mom used to make you wear to sled down the neighbor's driveway.
4. Nevermind the five year olds zooming past you after you have fallen on your butt for the hundredth time. If you mind them, it will just make you sad that they are all zoomy and you are indeed, on your butt.
5. When you make it down the mountain, sit down before you unstrap your boot. If you don't, you will end up sliding sideways down the bunny slope. You will have to fall to prevent this. Your butt already hurts.
6. Learn to turn the easy way before you start trying to turn the hard way. This is easier said than done.
7. When the lesson is over and you decide it is time for lunch, remember how many times you have fallen and that a frozen butt doesn't feel the pain. When you begin to defrost in the lodge, not only will ice butt melt but you will be reminded that your butt is now one big bruise.
8. Don't try to fancily get off the lift to keep up with your husband. Just go slow. Falling off the lift- again- is not fun. Especially since only one foot is strapped in. The free foot will go flying. If you are lucky, your knee will not twist and your cute, lowrider snowpants will not split down the front. I was not lucky. The only thing worse then ice butt is...well, you get the picture.
9. If necessary, sit in the snow while husband and friend go down the mountain. Maybe by the time they make it up the lift again, you will be ready to head down.
10. When you start to get going, just go with it. No need to scream and fall down- on your butt, once again. All that does is give you another chance to see all those five year olds go zoomy zoomy right by your crashed self.
11. Thank friend for telling you how to fall. Somehow, Snowboard Dude skipped that part. I am probably lucky my wrists are still in tact. (Thanks Chris!)
12. When you get home, first thing- pay attention, this is important- take a painkiller. Trust me, this is important. REALLY important. When you fully thaw, you will hurt. ALOT.
As we went to bed that night I looked over and apologized to Dr. HokieKev for not being good at winter sports. He replied, exact words, "It's okay. I am sure there is something I am not good at- I just haven't found it yet."
In conclusion, I have decided that- while I may brave the mountain again- I am definitely a summer sports kind of girl...or maybe a sit by the pool and sip fruity beverages kind of girl!
PS- It is Tuesday and I still hurt. Surprisingly, not in my legs but everywhere else. I cannot stress enough- Aleve is your friend.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Just what kind of girl do you think I am...
When I was a senior in high school, my best friend Ramona and I took a trip to North Carolina to visit another friend at his college. Said friend is in a fraternity- we knew we would be going to a couple of parties. We also knew we would be spending our nights in a male dorm with pretty strict rules about overnight visitors of the opposite sex (we ignored these rules and blew up our air mattress right on the floor of his dorm room).
Anyway, after a six hour drive including being pulled over in Emporia, VA for doing 5 miles over the speed limit, seeing renegade horses galloping on a median, and getting lost in Fayetteville, NC- we finally made it to Wingate with our 6 foot tall Gumby doll no worse for the wear. As we were getting ready for the weekend's first party and the boys were off doing something faternity related (and very loud) upstairs, Ramona threw a box of condoms on the bed. Not strange- remember, boys, fraternity parties, no adult supervision. She had a pretty serious boyfriend at the time, I did not. She said she wanted to make sure that I was "safe" should I be put in a situation to need said condoms. Still, not strange. Upon further review, however, I noticed that the box she threw on the bed contained not 3, not 5, not 20, but 100 condoms. ONE HUNDRED!!! We were only there for three days...who needs 100 condoms for three days...that is over one an hour. I promptly asked her what she thought I was planning to do that weekend. She replied with something along the lines of- well, you never know. We both laughed.
This story came to mind yesterday as I was strolling through the aisles at Sam's Club- I thought of it and wondered if these econo packs were sold in Utah. They aren't. You can get your 100 pounds of sugar but not your 100 pack of condoms. Just in case you needed to know...
PS- For the multiple parental units that read this- all 100 condoms were filled with water and used as balloons.
Anyway, after a six hour drive including being pulled over in Emporia, VA for doing 5 miles over the speed limit, seeing renegade horses galloping on a median, and getting lost in Fayetteville, NC- we finally made it to Wingate with our 6 foot tall Gumby doll no worse for the wear. As we were getting ready for the weekend's first party and the boys were off doing something faternity related (and very loud) upstairs, Ramona threw a box of condoms on the bed. Not strange- remember, boys, fraternity parties, no adult supervision. She had a pretty serious boyfriend at the time, I did not. She said she wanted to make sure that I was "safe" should I be put in a situation to need said condoms. Still, not strange. Upon further review, however, I noticed that the box she threw on the bed contained not 3, not 5, not 20, but 100 condoms. ONE HUNDRED!!! We were only there for three days...who needs 100 condoms for three days...that is over one an hour. I promptly asked her what she thought I was planning to do that weekend. She replied with something along the lines of- well, you never know. We both laughed.
This story came to mind yesterday as I was strolling through the aisles at Sam's Club- I thought of it and wondered if these econo packs were sold in Utah. They aren't. You can get your 100 pounds of sugar but not your 100 pack of condoms. Just in case you needed to know...
PS- For the multiple parental units that read this- all 100 condoms were filled with water and used as balloons.
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