Bit Off More Than We Can Chew

Last weekend, Rob and I decided to finally get to work on ripping down the wallpaper so we could paint the family room and kitchen. Well, one thing led to another and we now have about a month's worth of work to do. When taking down the wallpaper, we thought, let's sand the mantle over the fireplace and throw some stain on it. We might as well laquer it, too. Oh, and let's put in a ceiling fan... and canned lights and new light fixtures in the kitchen. And somewhere in all of that we figured that the wallpaper adhesive wasn't going to come off, so we would have to re-texture the walls. Well, you can't just spray some plaster on the walls without covering everything up so we've got all of the appliances out of the kitchen and plastic over all of the cabinets, walls, and ceiling that we don't want to texturize. Come visit us sometime in 2010... the project might be finished by then ;)

My Summer Can Now Begin

Are you ready to partay? The biggest and bestest night of the year (in my world, at least) is upon us. Just to whet your appetite for this season of SYTYCD, here's my favorite dance from last season. I can't listen to this song without seeing this dance in my head. Love it!

You Must Have Been a Beautiful Baby

I have an announcement to make!

Rob and I are the proud new parents of two of the ugliest babies in the world! Meet:

Lucas Orson

and

Louis Oliver

Lucas inherited some awesome eyebrows, but that's about all I can say for him. I wonder where he got his baby stache and I'm worried he might be cross-eyed. Louis looks more like Rob, obviously, with the wider nose. Is he too young for me to worry about his tongue and ears sticking out? I know babies grow into their ears and all, but I'm a little concerned. Rob always said he wants one of our children to have an LOL name. He just got his wish. We have 2 LOL babies... in more than one way ;)

If you want to make your own Lucas or Louis, go to the Routan Babymaker 3000, where you can forecast the looks of your future offspring.

You Wanna See Something?

Last night, as we're getting into bed, Rob enthusiastically asks me "wanna see something?" I got all excited because I had no idea what he was going to show me, and I thought it might be really good. He jumps up on the bed and I start to get up there, too, when he points to his big toe. I wondered what I was supposed to be seeing, when he says "look! My toes!"

I think I've mentioned this before, but I have an aversion to feet. Even my own. I think that feet are nasty, especially ones with jagged toe nails and toe jam in the corners of the nails and cracked heels, etc. Since before we were married, I have always been telling Rob to get the toe jam out of the corners of his toe nails and he always says "why, it's just going to come back." Before I finish this story, please know that Rob has very good hygiene in general and that he also authorized this post. He knows I'm writing about it. Usually, I get grossed out enough that I just grab his foot and some pedicure implements and take care of the problem for him.

So last night, the "something" he wanted me to see was his cleaned-out, clipped toe nails. He was just like a little boy, proud of his accomplishment. And, although I was not expecting his toe nails to be what he wanted me to see, I was proud of him, too.

I love the little gestures my husband makes each and every day. And even though cleaning the toe jam from his nails is a little wierd, it's still a gesture and I love that he does those little things.

It's Shake 'n' Bake, and I helped!

Just in case you were wondering, it's dang hot right now in Utah. My mother would call it "earthquake weather" if she lived in Utah and there were earthquakes of size here.

Last night I had a vociemail from my mom that said "We're OK. It was a big one, but we're all safe." And that's all she said. I didn't really know what she was talking about, but since she said "big one" it was safe to assume she meant that there was an earthquake. I pulled up the LA Times online, and sure enough, the headline says "Quake Strikes East of LAX," and since my parents live just north of LAX, I knew it was close. It was a 5.2 on the Richter Scale, which is moderately big, considering that "THE BIG ONE" will probably be somewhere in the 7-8 range.

I called my mom for the details and she told me that after the earthquake, my nephew got out of his bed and came into the family room and said, "which one of you was shaking my bed?" I guess ignorance is bliss.

TMI Pharmacist

Our house has just been full of sickies (not sickos) this week. First, Rob hasn't been doing so well after his cat bite. We don't know if it's "cat poisoning" or the side-effects of the tetanus shot and antibiotics. It could also just be the flu - probably the swine variety, knowing our luck. And I started feeling funny on Monday and by Wednesday it ocurred to me that there may be something wrong with my bladder. I called my doctor, but he was out of town until next week so I decided I'd take my chances with the InstaCare. We'd already been there with Rob's cat bite, so I was really hoping that the same people wouldn't be there because I didn't want them to think that I'm one of "those" people who just goes to the doctor all of the time for no reason. I had no such luck. The receptionist was the same, the doctor was the same, the nurse was the same. Everyone was the same.

After peeing in a cup, I went back to the exam room and waited for the doctor to come in. He enters, and says "how do I know you? Are we in the same ward down in Springville?" I could have just played along, but I reminded him that I was the lady who came in with the cat bite man. He started laughing, and said, "that's right. I'd never seen a grown man who'd been bit by a cat before." I'm not sure if that was a jab at my husband's manliness, but that comment kind of put me in a bad mood. As we're sitting there, the door opens and 2 other people walk in and ask if they can observe because they're medical students. At this point, I figure I might as well let myself be their entertainment for the evening. The lady student starts asking me questions and poking my abdomen a little too hard and then says "I see that you're a diabetic from the presence of ketones in your urine." I get really defensive when people accuse me of being diabetic, because, well, I'm not diabetic. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But I get that a lot. So, that's what I said to her, "I get that a lot." I'm glad that the doctor stepped in and told her that I was probably dehydrated, and that she shouldn't assume that because I take a medication normally given to diabetics, that I am a diabetic. Because if he hadn't said something, I would have and it wouldn't have been nice, given the fact that she was poking me. Meanwhile, the other guy just stood there staring at me like I had a booger hanging out of my nose. Turns out I did. Oops.

I won't tell you the rest of that story because, frankly, it's too gross, even for me, and kind of long. Needless to say, I got a prescription for some antibiotics and a pain reliever and was on my way. I'm loving that the InstaCare and Walgreens are across the street from each other and both just blocks away from my home. I went in to drop of the prescription and the same pharmacist from Saturday was there. And let me tell you, this guy is interesting. Had I not had the pleasure of meeting him on Saturday, I don't know that I would have been so excited that he was there. I knew I was in for a treat. Let me describe him. He's probably 6 feet tall. He's what I would call "rotund," but in a cute sort of way. If he wasn't working at a pharmacy, you'd swear he was 12 years old because he has a baby face and very patchy facial hair. Think of that Spencer dude from the Hills and imagine him 100 pounds heavier, and there you have this guy! Except that it's Spencer wearing a white vest, a nice tie underneath, and a nametag. Now that you've got a picture in your mind of his looks, I'll give you a personality. Andy Bernard from The Office. Quite a combo, right?

There was someone in line behind me while I was dropping the prescription off, so at first it was just the normal customer/pharmacist convo. I walked around the store for a while as I was waiting, but the manager started following me around (I assume he thinks I was trying to shoplift) so I went back to the pharmacy area and sat down. Pharmacist Spandy called me over (on the loudspeaker, I might add) to get my prescription and he asks "so, what's this antibiotic for?" I told him it was for a bladder infection, and he says "ahh, I see. It's a pretty strong one, so I thought it was for something like that, or an STD." What do you say to that? I just looked at him and said "I have a strict 'no STD' policy in my house." He laughed and then recommended I get a probiotic to counteract the effects of this medication. I told him that I already had some at home, thinking he'd ring me up and I'd be on my way. But no, he just had to tell me about the time he took this antibiotic and how it gave him the runs so bad that he had to cancel his cruise. As an aside, he told Rob the last time that we were there that he should use chainmail gloves to bathe the cat, just like cooks on cruise ships use so they don't cut their fingers off. You learn something new everyday!

For all of this guy's quirkiness, he sure is likeable. And even though he spouts off TMI ('Too Much Information' for all of you non-abbreviators) like there's no tomorrow, there's just something about him that is fun. I've been laughing about him for the past few days, and now I found that someone else has discovered him. I was reading CJane today and she posted about the same pharmacist. I see that he is not stingy with sharing his wierdness with the world. You can read about her encounter here.

I usually use the drive-thru at Walgreens, but never again. I'm looking forward to my next visit with Pharmacist Spandy.

Trudy Churness

I was getting dressed this morning and my options were not so great. See, I just cleaned out my closet recently and gave away a lot of my warmer weather clothes. I've been trying to find some cute stuff, but since 2003, when this well-meaning woman at a clothing store told me I had "bat wings" for arms, I haven't been able to bring myself to wear a sleeve shorter than 3/4. That means I'm up the proverbial summer clothing creek without a 3/4 sleeve paddle. No grood. I finally settled on a nice blouse that I recently bought online. I believe it looked better in the picture, but all-in-all, it looks pretty good. It's got a bold print on it, which is kind of new for me. Bold color, yes! Bold patterns, still trying to feel them out. Anyway, I got all dressed and went into the bathroom to check my look in the mirror. Aaaarrrrgggghhhh, Trudy Churness!

Let me explain. Trudy Churness was the wife of the judge my mom worked with when I was growing up. The closest thing to Trudy Churness is the Mike Meyer's Coffee Talk character on SNL, except not quite close enough.

You see, Trudy Churness wore more make-up, had bigger hair, bigger shoulder pads, longer nails, more colorful glasses (think Sally Jessie Raphael), more jewelry, and more Bedazzlement on her outfits. She always looked like she was going on a cruise or spending the evening at a casino. She always looked like that. Even her dressed-down look contained at least 50% Bedazzlement.

And when I looked in the mirror, I saw a truly Trudy Churness worthy ensemble looking back at me. Starting from the head, I had curled my hair and poofed it up a little just for a change. It actually looked really cute, but it was too much with the bold print. I was wearing my red glasses because I was about to take a medication which had a label on it reading: WARNING - URINE AND OTHER BODY FLUIDS WILL TURN ORANGE/RED. WILL STAIN ALL FABRICS AND SURFACES. DO NOT WEAR SOFT CONTACT LENSES WHILE TAKING THIS MEDICINE, AS THEY WILL BE PERMANENTLY STAINED ORANGE. So, I decided I would rather writhe in pain from a bladder infection than stain my contact lenses orange. I ditched the glasses and put the contacts in. Oh yeah, there was also a little warning that IF YOU EVER PLAN ON BECOMING PREGNANT, PLEASE DISCUSS THE RISKS OF TAKING THIS MEDICATION WITH YOUR DOCTOR OR PHARMACIST. THE FDA DOES NOT KNOW THE EFFECTS OF THIS MEDICATION ON FETUSES. But honestly, the unknown effects on my yet-to-be-conceived fetus were the least of my concerns. I just couldn't wear the glasses!

Going on, my bold-printed tunic just screamed "Trudy Churness!" Taking the glasses off and brushing out the curls helped, but this outfit was just doomed from the start. I changed from slacks and heels to a more casual goucho pant and sandals, but this entire day I just keep thinking to myself "how did this outfit go so wrong?" When I was pulling everything out of the closet I thought it was going to be a hot outfit, but it took a wrong turn. Perhaps I should just admit and embrace that there's a little bit of Trudy in me and just go with the flow. I mean, even though we liked to make fun of her and her outlandish style, she thought she was the hottest thing since sliced bread. And people did what she wanted them to do. She wasn't manipulative or anything, but maybe there was just something about her big, Bedazzled glasses that made people want to bend over backwards. She was also quite rich, but I'd like to think it was her style.

The Beast

PLUS

EQUALS

Let me see you grill!

A little while ago, Rob decided he wanted to get a grill. He looked around, did comparisons, fasted and prayed about it (j/k) and then picked out a nice Weber gas grill. Since we live in a condo, our only option for where to put it is on the porch. My concern was that someone would try to steal it. I suggested that we chain it to the railing, but Rob assured me that it would be difficult to steal a grill and that it would be OK. Since getting it, we've used it a handful of times but I had this sneaking suspicion that we weren't the only ones because sometimes the cover would be on it wanky or it would be moved out of its place. Rob is real meticulous about grill care, and there have been some food particles left on it when I've gone to fire it up. I don't know for sure, but I just have a feeling that someone else has been using it.

A few weeks ago, we went upstairs to welcome our new neighbors and as we were leaving, the guy mentioned something about our grill and after we left I said to Rob that maybe this guy thinks that he can use our grill whenever he wants. I brushed it off, but I made a mental note to keep a watch out for him. And then last week, I came home from work and the chairs on our porch were moved and there was a book on one of the chairs. I checked the grill and it wasn't hot, but now I'm being paranoid that the neighbors are sitting on our porch and using our grill. Should I say something to them about it? If they're not using it, then I'll seem foolish for saying something, but on the other hand... The other thing is that it could be 1 of 2 people who are using it. It could be either upstairs or downstairs.

Have you been in a situation like this? What would you do?

And your little friend, too.

Yesterday as I was bringing my groceries from the car to the house when this little, fluffy white dog ran up to me and started barking like crazy. He looked like the dog in the picture, except he was dirty. He was a dirty dog! Anyway, I thought he was going to attack me so I kind of kicked him. Not hard, but enough to get him away from me. I kept walking to my condo, and thought I should look around for his owner to tell him/her to get the dog and I suddenly had this memory of this same dog almost attacking me and Rob on our wedding day.

Rob came to the condo to pick me up and take me to the temple, and as we were walking to the car this same little dog and a friend started chasing after us, barking and biting our heels. I was carrying my wedding dress, purse, shoes and another bag of stuff and Rob was carrying his tuxedo and another bag... our hands were full, to say the least. I'm trying not to trip over this dog or impale him with my high-heel, when I hear this lady screaming at us, "get my dogs, please, somebody, please get my dogs!" I start looking around because, surely, she couldn't have been talking to us - we had our hands full. I do a full look-around and all I see is Rob and this lady. She's standing on the sidewalk looking like her life depends on us picking up her vicious dogs and bringing them to her. As far as I could tell, she wasn't disabled. Her feet and hands were not tied. She was just lazy and wanted someone to get her dogs for her. And then she started getting frantic and crying. Rob and I did what anyone else would do in this situation - we got in the car and drove off.

You're probably wondering what the point of this story is. Really, there is no point except that sometimes wierd stuff happens and it makes you step back and think, "that was wierd."

States I Don't Want to Live In: Kentucky & West Virginia (mostly just Appalachia)

I saw a 20/20 special about Appalachia and I don't want to live there. There is a lot of Mountain Dew consumed there so a lot of people don't have teeth. I've never seen the movie Deliverance but I've heard enough about it that I don't want to live near hillbillies. I did see Coal Miner's Daughter and October Sky and it always seems dark in the Appalachians. And wet. My job options would be mine worker or drug dealer. Both really risky occupations. If you work them right, both could be pretty lucrative, but not lucrative enough to outweigh the risks of going to jail or getting Black Lung. I bet there are also serious vitamin D deficiencies from the lack of sun. Being Scandinavian, I'm already pretty pale. I'd be downright pasty in the Appalachians. I also don't like Mountain Dew. So, no Appalachians for me. I'll stick to the Wasatch.