Bye Bye Bear Creek

I heard about this company called Shirley J the other day. Ha ha, that rhymed. Anyway, a former co-worker started working for the company recently, and opened my eyes up to a whole new world. I didn't know there was a company that made soup bases and special seasonings (and sold them in bulk), or that there was even such a thing. I only knew about that crappy Bear Creek soup mix, which does a number on my intestines... and never even tasted all that great to begin with. Enter Becky.

Shirley J makes these soup bases, like cream and cheese, and also spices for regular cooking and slow-cooker/dutch oven cooking. Since I am spice challenged (at least my husband thinks so), Shirley J is just for me. And since I don't trust my husband's method of just opening jars and throwing stuff in the pot willy-nilly, Shirley J is perfect for him. The bulk sizes are also good for your food storage needs. We're on a food storage kick in our house, and I'm looking forward to adding Shirley J to the collection. And the fact that the labels on their products look like something that came out of a Dharma Initiative hatch makes me feel confident that they will have a long shelf-life ;)

One of the other things that attracts me to Shirley J's products is that they are MSG free! I don't know about you guys, but every time I eat something with MSG in it (aka General Tsao's Chicken) I get a migraine the next day. Sometimes that migraine keeps me from doing the things I love like blogging, watching TV, spying on my neighbors, complaining about the neighbors and eating chocolate. I know with Shirley J my spying abilities will not be compromised.

I'm really excited to try the dough enhancer since I can't make bread to save my life and the soup and sauce bases. We love us some clam chowder in our house, and Campbells Extra Chunky just doesn't cut the mustard.

So now that I've got you interested, Shirley J is having an open house in their Orem store (15 East 400 North) starting March 31 and going through April 11. You can learn about the ultimate universal cooking base and other great products! They'll have cooking demonstrations, free recipes, balloons for the kids and a 10 percent discount for everyone that stops by!

If you're interested in learning more about Shirley J, you can visit the blog or the official Web site.

I'm Jenny From the Block, and I approve this message.

You're Not As Cool As I Thought

I went to a craft fair one time with my sisters, aunt, and cousins. I was having fun until this man who was selling something (and I don't even remember what it was) told me that I wasn't "cool" because I didn't buy his goods. At the time, that was the worst insult anyone could have ever given me. You see, I was in the 7th grade and coolness was all I cared about. I did things in the name of cool that I now shrink at the thought of. Aqua Net, anyone? I'm quite positive that global warming was probably caused by all of the Aqua Net being applied in the girl's bathroom at Orville Wright Junior High.

Now the pendulum has swung in the opposite direction. And I don't even care. Well, I mostly don't care. I only care when people talk using their cool, hip words and I don't know what they mean. I'm not sure whether I should just bust out with a "say what?" or pretend like I'm totally down with their lingo. I think I should just pretend that I know. There was an occasion where someone I know asked me what "get down like that" means and I couldn't explain it. I was like, "it just means, you know, to get down like that." And then I felt stupid because I knew what it meant, but I couldn't explain it in terms that this person would understand.

So I'm gonna go out on a limb right now and ask a dumb question. I hear this phrase almost daily, but I'm not really sure what it means. I kinda think I know what it means, but what I'd like to know is, what is the etymology of this phrase. I heard it on a cartoon my nephew was watching, and he's 5, so apparently I speak some archaic language since I don't know. Here's the phrase: "No Dice."

There, I asked. Please don't make fun of me. I don't get down like that.

The Truth About Hillbillies

Here's what happened with the cussing Hillbillies...

I was driving down Freedom Blvd, when out of nowhere this old, nasty truck with a bunch of branches and sticks in the back swings in front of me and then slams on its breaks. If you ever watched that show "Sanford & Son" from the 80's, this truck looked like it belonged in that show. So I have to follow this truck for a while because the cars in the other lanes are actually going the speed limit and I have to wait before I can pass.

My chance comes, so I start to pass. Of course I had to let this driver know of my disapproval and take the chance to educate him on his offense. As I looked up to give my stank eye, I saw that there were two guys in the cab, both browned and wrinkled by excessive sun exposure. They were wearing hats with beer logos on them and overalls with plaid shirts underneath. And I believe that they only had 7 teeth between the two of them. I caught the passenger's eye and proceeded to adminster the stank. I think he called my stank and raised me 2 because once I got in front of him and his buddy, they stayed on my tail. I watched them in my rear-view mirror change lanes when I did and turn when I did. Once I figured out they were following me, I thought "I can't go to my house because they may harm me there." I tried to lose them, driving erratically, changing lanes quickly, speeding up, and taking them in circles. I decided I needed to go somewhere public because I figured they would just leave me alone. I pulled into the Macey's parking lot and got a space right up in the front where there would be multiple witnesses if something were to happen.

I got out of the car and they drove by and called me a bad word. And then they drove off. I went into the store and saw my friend Donald so I stayed and talked to him for a while just to make sure they were gone. And then I figured since the bank was inside the grocery store, I might as well take care of some business there. I made good and sure that the hillbillies were gone before I came out and then high-tailed it out of there just in case they were hiding in wait for me.

Breakfast of Champions

When I was roommates with my friend Katie, we would do this thing called "Breakfast of Champions." I'd run out of the house in the morning with a Diet Coke and some Fritos and say "breakfast of champions," as I was shutting the door. And then maybe the next day she'd have some leftover pizza or something like that and she'd say "breakfast of champions," as she was eating. Somehow, my breakfast of champions always invloved Diet Coke. Anyway, gourmet food isn't exactly a priority when you're in college and only when you get older and wiser do you think to yourself, "maybe my breakfast routine shouldn't include Diet Coke and leftover take-out." I've been pretty good since then about eating actual breakfast foods for breakfast, with the exception of chocolate cake if it's available. Thank goodness those occasions are rare.

This morning I poured some wholesome Cheerios into my bowl and then remembered that I didn't buy any milk for myself at the grocery store on Saturday. I bought some whole milk for my husband, but since we are going out of town this week, I skipped buying any 1% for me. I thought about using the whole milk, but could feel my arteries clog just thinking about it, so I put my Cheerios back in the bowl and investigated the fridge for something else to eat. I saw some frosting, leftover trout from Red Lobster, cheese, ranch dressing, radishes, and potatoes, carrots and cabbage leftover from our family dinner last night. I chose the cabbage and potatoes. What was I thinking? I took one bite and changed my mind. I've eaten a lot of crappy stuff for breakfast before, but this was just too much - even for a breakfast of champions!

So I went with some Fig Newtons instead. Afterall, "they're not cookies mother, they're Newtons."

Lessons Learned

If you get cut off on the road by some Hillbillies, don't give them the stank eye when you speed up and pass them. They will follow you into the grocery store parking lot and cuss at you.

Lady, Your Door is Open!

That's what this guy said to me because my door dinger wouldn't stop dinging while I was in a drive-thru. You know, the door dinger thingy that dings when your seatbelt isn't on or the door is open. The thing is, my door was closed and my seatbelt was on. It started a few months ago whenever I would turn a corner or any weight would be put on the door. You could set the dinger off by pressing your leg against the door. I kept telling myself I was going to take it into the shop to get looked at, but 3 months later I hadn't. And then one day I was going to Wal-Mart and the dinger dinged the entire way there, even with me holding the door closed with one hand and driving with the other. I just learned to live with it, but the Robster on the other hand, didn't know that the dinger dinged incessantly, so he was in for a shock one day while he was driving my car. In case you don't remember, my car is named Uncle Jesse. I was going to say something about Uncle Jesse and his dinger, but it just doesn't sound quite right. Anyhoo, the Robster said he was going to fix it for me.
Now that's what I call a 2 cent fix! I guess the sensor just wasn't quite getting touched by the door and needed some extra height. I know it's jerry-rigged and all, but that's just about the most genius thing I've ever seen. And now the dinger doesn't ding when I turn a corner.

I can't hear what you're sayin', young lady!

Today at work I was calling TV stations to find out who their health/medicine producer was for the morning TV news shows. I call Good Morning America, they put me right through. The Today Show put me through even quicker. NBC in Dallas - not as good of an experience. An elderly gentleman answered and he spoke pretty fast, but I thought I heard "NBC and Univision" somewhere in there. So I ask him if there is a health editor or producer for the morning news and he says "I can't hear what you're sayin', young lady." So I moved the receiver a little closer to my mouth and spoke a little louder. I also tried to annunciate a little better. He still didn't understand what I was saying. So I started getting louder and he says, "are you lookin' for a health clinic?" After about the 4th time of me telling him what I wanted, I finally thought to myself that maybe I had called the wrong place so I asked "is this a TV station?" He answers, "well that's what I said in the first place, now how can I help you?" So I asked my question again and he says "young lady, I really don't know what you're talkin' about. Do you need some sort of service?" At this point I was frustrated beyong belief, so I started explaining what a producer was and he says, "oh, you wanna speak to someone in the newsroom?" Yes, I want to speak to someone in the news room. The irony in this whole story is that the client I was calling on behalf of makes hearing aids.

Courage, Confidence, Character

I was once a Girl Scout, so I feel obligated to purchase their goods when they come a knockin'. In fact, I purchased 9 of what they were selling only to find out that my husband also purchased at least that amount - maybe more. Between the two of us, we purchased around 20 boxes of Girl Scout cookies. I'm slightly embarassed by this fact. But only slightly. Because afterall, my purchase promotes financial skills such as goal setting, decision-making, customer service and money management. Now I'm just questioning who's financial skills it promotes because I pretty much blew my goal of not eating junk food, made poor decisions in only getting 3 boxes of Samoas instead of 4, and definitely didn't manage my money when I purchased $32 worth of cookies. But hey, at least I'm instilling courage, confidence and character in some little Girl Scout, somewhere. So what if I'm 32 lbs. heavier and $32 poorer.

Help a Sistah Out!

Sometimes you really need some McNuggets.

Descriptors

When I married my husband, I moved into a new neighborhood and I am still trying to get to know people. In our church congregation, we have a lot of different kinds of people of different ages, backgrounds, cultures, etc. As one guy in church said yesterday, "we have the darkest, lushest berries like myself, and the whitest of the coconut puffs in our congregation." He must have been talking about my husband when he said "whitest of the coconut puffs." Anyway, we have a lot of different people in our ward. The best way to meet people is by going to church, obviously, but also through the visiting and home teaching programs. Each month I have 2 women come visit me, and 2 men come to visit me and my husband. And in turn, I go visit 3 women each month and my husband visits 3 families. I have also been priveleged to have a visit by the Relief Society Presidency, and they told me all sorts of stuff about people in the ward. All of it good, of course, but what I noticed was the way they described people.

For instance, there is a woman in the ward who has Alzheimer's Disease. Because of this, she sits in the same seat every Sunday to avoid any confusion. That's how I know who she is because she always sits in the same spot, and always wears the same dress. I don't know why she always wears the same dress, but that's neither here nor there. So, someone was talking about her and immediately they said, "oh, you know, she's the very large woman in the ward." Another person said something about her and preluded it with, "she's the larger woman who sits in the front row." Why do people do that? Why do we always pick their most unattractive feature to describe them? All they had to say was, "she always sits in the front row," and I would have known who they were talking about.

Do we do this because sometimes the most unattractive feature is the most obvious? I wonder what people say about me. "Oh, you know, she's the one with the really narrow nose," or "she's the one with the fat arms." Since I have become aware of this, I have tried really hard to pick nice features to describe people, or to describe them by who they're related to or what they do. I don't have a solution for the problem, but I wonder what other people's experiences have been. And I know that I'm not perfect. I have been known to describe someone as "having 80s hair," and everyone knew who I was talking about. What do you guys think? Any experiences you want to share?

From Here to Eternity

I’ll admit that most of my friends have the same beliefs and values that I have. It’s not that I don’t like diversity, but when you live in Utah County, the majority of people you associate with every day are Latter-day Saints. Since I moved away from Los Angeles, I’ve lost touch with a lot of the friends I had when I was younger, and thus lost a lot of the diversity that I really enjoyed in my friends. I’ve since been finding a lot of these old friends on Facebook, and it has been really neat to see how their lives have evolved and what they’re up to these days.

One thing I have noticed is that even though we’re all very different, essentially, we want the same things in life; however, I have also noticed that they have all mentioned at one time or another that they’re terrified of dying. I am not terrified of it. Do I want to die? Not yet, but I do know that we all have a time, but that death isn’t the end of things. I am grateful for the plan that Heavenly Father has for his children to return to him, and for families to be together forever.

Last week I received the news that an acquaintance of mine had passed away. He was my age, 32, which got me thinking a lot about my own mortality. Did I really believe what I professed to?
My husband and I attended the funeral, which I don’t know if I would have since he was not a close friend, but I know his older brother quite well and I felt that I should go to show my love and support for the family. I can say that I was expecting it to be quite sad. I had never attended a funeral for a young person, so I really expected there to be weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth. But what I experienced, and what I feel that others experienced, was a sense of peace of also a strengthening of my belief that death isn’t the end.

This young man died unexpectedly, and his sister said that the family still doesn’t know the scientific reason for his death. They did know that he had been experiencing a decreased lung capacity since an accident a few years ago, and that he’d had a cold and strep recently, but that they didn’t know why he passed away. She then said that the family had done a lot of prayer and meditation after his passing to try to understand why someone so young had been taken from this earth. All of his siblings and parents were able to speak at the funeral and they all expressed that they felt peace that it was just Chris’ time to go. His sister and mother read sections from his patriarchal blessing , a special blessing given in my church by a man called a Patriarch, who has been chosen and ordained to this calling. “This blessing enumerates the blessings and promises, some special, others general, to which… the person is entitled; and through his authority seals them upon him, so that they may be his forever through faithfulness” (Boyd K. Packer, October General Conference, 2002). In this young man’s blessing, he was promised that his days on the earth would be long enough for him to accomplish what he needed to do to return to his Heavenly Father with honor. He was also promised that until his work was done on the earth, he would be protected and kept safe, and that his passing from this life to the next would be peaceful. Those words gave his family comfort, and they truly know that Chris’ work on the earth was completed.

I felt, through the promptings of the Holy Ghost, that this was true. I also felt the Holy Ghost remind me that I do actually believe what I profess to. I know that God lives, and that he gave his son, Jesus Christ, to us as a Savior so that we could return to live with him one day. I also know that families can be together forever. Chris will be with his family again because of the sealing powers of the priesthood. I am very grateful to be sealed to my dear husband and that when this life is over, we, along with our children and other family members, will be together.
Not only did I leave the funeral with a peace and comfort that this life is not the end, but I felt comforted in knowing that Heavenly Father is in charge. My life is in his hands and he can and will make of me more than I ever could. I also left with a greater resolve to make every day count - to try to be the best I can be and to live as Christ did.

“I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live:
“And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die” (John 11:25-26).

It's What I've Been Sayin' All Along

Remeber when I posted about my nail salon experiences? I saw these pictures on a blog about passive-aggressiveness, and I had to laugh because it's so funny that someone put that on their sign. It's almost like they should all say that, because if I can't get my nails professionally done by Asians, I don't want them done at all.

Influenza: The Gift That Keeps on Giving

When I was single, I thought that holidays would automatically be better once I was married because I'd have someone to spend them with. I'd have someone to kiss me at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve, someone who would send me flowers on Valentine's Day, and someone to decorate eggs with at Easter. Boy, was I wrong! Rob fell asleep at 10 pm on New Year's Eve and was sick in bed this entire weekend. And when I say "sick in bed," I mean just that. He slept the entire weekend, only getting up to use the bathroom and eat. So that meant no flowers on Velentine's Day in addition to my lack of kiss on New Year's Eve. I guess I shouldn't care all that much, especially since Valentine's Day has been contrived by greeting card companies and the retail market as a ploy to sell crap between Christmas and Easter. But this morning I checked my google reader and read about everyone's awesome Valentine's Day and started feeling sorry for myself. And even worse than that, the kids I teach in Sunday school asked what I did for Valentine's Day, and when I told them, one of the kids said, "dang, that's super lame!" Yes, thank you for rubbing the super lame salt in my super lame wound. At least I got this consolation prize from one of the kids: "That's almost as bad as my brother taking his girlfriend to the monster truck rally for Valentine's Day. But not as bad."

So, to all of my single friends: the grass only looks greener on the other side. You might still end up watching Dick Clark by yourself on New Year's Eve and having Valentine's Day be just like any other day. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst, right? And when it get's really bad, just remind yourself that it's not as bad as a monster truck rally.

But all kidding aside - my husband and I might not have scrapbook, blog-worthy holiday celebrations, which is OK since I don't do the scrapbook thing, because every regular day is just as momentous, even more so, than I ever thought it could be. I'm so grateful to have a husband who shows me the kind of love and respect every day that some women only see on holidays. That's one of the reasons I let him stick around. That and his Grossness Tolerance Level is much greater than mine. He's my go-to guy when there's grossness that needs to be gotten rid of. I love you, sweetheart! Get well.

Remember When His Name Was "Leaf"?

I love me some Joaquin Phoenix! Walk the Line, anyone? So I was terribly disappointed to see his appearance on Late Night with David Letterman. It's awkward, painful and downright disappointing.

States I Don't Want to Live in: Flori-don't

I'm starting a series called "States I Don't Want to Live In," and Florida is my first entry. I went to Jacksonville, Florida once and I thought it was one of the nastiest places I've ever been to. My cousin lives there, and I like my cousin, but I don't care too much for Florida. I tell people this and they tell me I should go to Orlando and I will feel differently. And then today I was reading an article about a child abduction that happened in Florida, and I thought to myself, "self, it seems like most child abductions happen in Florida." So I did a little Google to see what I could find to support my theory. This is what I found. Apparently Jeb Bush noticed, too.

Anyway, frequent child abductions isn't the only reason I don't want to live in Florida. Have you ever watched COPS? Every episode was in Broward County, Florida.

Alligator attacks? Florida.

Hurricanes? Florida.

Key Lime Pie? Florida (I like Key Lime Pie, it just gives me wicked bad heartburn).

Nuff said.

I won the golden ticket!

Congratulations to the first 5 peeps to comment on my super awesome home-made present giveaway post! The lucky ladies are:

Super cool SIL Becca

Fashion forward Holly

Sassy Southern Stormy

"Just Janet" Robyn

"Rhinestone Baby" Heather

I'm working on your super awesome home-made stuff and hope to have it finished in about a week. Just sos you all know, I once went to a scrapbook store and I got to do a free page. The woman who was working there told me that there were enough supplies for me to start over if I wanted to. So what I'm sayin' is that I'm not that crafty. Your present may or may not be made with puffy paints. It may or may not be Bedazzled. It may or may not be a boondoggle. I may or may not use the cat hair I collect around my house to knit you a purse. OK - that last one really happened. Not by me, but I saw a lady on TV who worked as a pet groomer and started collecting the cat hairs to knit things out of. Now she takes the hair of deceased cats and dogs and knits them into purses, hats, scarves, etc. for the owners to memorialize their pets. Gross nasty is all I have to say about that.

Thanks for playin', friends!

I Like the Wizard of Oz!

Credit for this one goes to Word to Your Mother.

Lemming!

Is it considered plagiarizing if you snag it from someone else's blog? I'm gonna give proper credit JIC. I got this from my friend Heather's blog, but since it's private and you're not invited (unless you are) then you wouldn't be able to check up on the validity of my source. OK, here goes.

The first five people to respond to this post will get something made by me! My choice. For you. This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:

1- I make no guarantees that you will like what I make!
2- What I create will be just for you.
3- It'll be done this year. (might be a little while)
4- You have no clue what it's going to be. It may be a story. It may be poetry or an article on properly cleaning your face before a masque. I may draw or paint something. I may bake you something and mail it to you. Who knows? Not you, that's for sure!
5- I reserve the right to do something extremely strange.

The catch? Oh, the catch is that you must repost this on your blog and offer the same to the first 5 people who do the same on their blog. The first 5 people to do so, and leave a comment telling me they did, win a FAB-U-LOUS homemade gift by me! Oh, and be sure to post a picture of what you win when you get it!

Hoff a Nice Day!

I'm a sucker for anything David Hasselhoff related. Not in a weird way, I just get such a kick out of all of the Hoff jokes. Like "Don't Hassle the Hoff," "Hoff a Nice Day," "Wax On Wax Hoff." So hilarious! I was inspired by Word to Your Mother to share some of the Hoffness with my loyal readers. Just make sure you're careful when Googleing David Hasselhoff. If you have no stomach for massive amounts of chest hair, stay away.

S.A.D.

Is anyone else ready for spring? I have been in a mid-winter funk ever since New Years, and I cannot seem to snap out of it. And it's not like I feel sad or depressed or anything, I just would rather sleep over anything else that is going on. I have an especially hard time getting up in the morning, and have boycotted Sunday morning choir practice because it is at 9:30 and church doesn't even start until 11. I haven't been to work on time in ages. At first I was blaming it on my underactive thyroid and anemia, but I realized today that it has to be the weather. It is bitterly cold, smoggy, and dark in the morning. And who wants to go out into that kind of weather?

Maybe I have the SAD - Seasonal Affective Disorder. Maybe I need a vacation to somewhere warm and sunny that also does not have smog. Maybe I need a Sleep Number mattress. Maybe I need a better alarm clock. Come to think of it, I felt this way last winter, too, but once March rolled around I was back to my old self. It's a good thing that February is a short month.