So great!

Here is the re-cap. These are so funny!

Remember, you heard it here first!

Remember how I made some Lost predictions? Well, some of them came true. Not all of them, but some of the more important ones. Am I clairvoyant or what?

Discuss.

Mass Hysteria

Who's afraid of the swine flu? To be quite honest, I've been thinking about it non-stop for two days. I'm wondering if I should stop eating carnitas at my favorite Mexican retaurant/Tesoro gas station because maybe someone in there came straight from Mexico because, LBH, the food at the Mexican restaurant next to my house is the best you can get outside of Mexico and inside Mexico. And what if this person who came straight from Mexico brought the swine flu with them and then coughed on my carne asada? This kind of stuff keeps me up at night. And I also figure that since Utah has all of these Mormon missionaries traveling all over kingdom come and then coming back with ponchos and soccer jerseys and now possibly the swine flu, Utah is the perfect breeding ground for a pandemic because just as missionaries are coming home, we're sending more out. Yikes! I saw this old school PSA on Word to Your Mother and it makes me not want to come into contact with any elderly people with heart conditions for fear of passing to them the swine flu I acquired from Taco Riendo.



I didn't even know the swine flu existed back in the day. All I have to say is "scary."

As if I don't have enough to worry about with swine flu descending upon Provo, now I have to worry about 80 gazillion middle-aged women descending upon Provo for BYU's Women's Conference! I was at the store today, and as the lady in front of me in line was leaving, the cashier says to her "have fun at Women's Conference!" Gasp! Just hearing those words makes my heart beat irregularly. You see, I don't like Women's Conference. Here's why: When I was going to school at the good ol' BY, I decided that I should get a summer job on campus. I was somehow able to score a job at Jamba Juice in the Wilkinson Center. My first day on the job was the first day of Women's Conference. Those women drove me within an inch of losing my sanity with their stupid questions and requests. Here are some of my favorite:

"Oh, that is far to big for me. You see, I don't eat very much, so could you only make me a third of that and then only charge me for a quarter of it?"

"I would like the Strawberry Fields, but can you substitute raspberries for the strawberries and then strain the seeds out of it?"

"Can I get an Orange Julius?"

"What does 'Jamba' mean?"

"We would like to order 2 smoothies, but can you split that up into seven cups and then divide the cost in seven ways and charge seven cards?"

"I'd like the Peanut Butter Moo'd but without the peanut butter since I'm allergic to peanuts. Can you use almond butter instead?"

"I'd like to order 25 smoothies in 75 different cups, and make it snappy because my girlfriends are saving me a seat at the next Brad Wilcox class that starts in 6 minutes in the Smith Fieldhouse."



And since I must be a glutton for punishment, I got a custodial job at Helaman Halls the next summer and who do you think showed up in the dorms for a week? That's right, the women. I had this one lady rip me a new one because her bed wasn't made when she came back from class that night. I tried to explain to her that she was staying in the dorms and we didn't provide maid service, but she got even more irate and told me I wasn't getting a tip. No skin off my teeth, lady!

But hey, even in the midst of swine flu and Women's Conference I do have things to look forward to. I ordered myself a Liz Lemon-esque necklace with my initials on it and I also ordered Wonder Hangers for my freshly painted closet. If I'm lucky, they'll both be here in a few days. I had this brilliant idea about the Wonder Hangers (6 hangers to 1 expandable Wonder Hanger)that would allow me to keep most of my clothes and still have some space for my husband to use the closet. You see, he's been banished to a free-standing clothes rack in the spare bedroom since I moved in. The poor man didn't even get the closet! Wonder Hangers will change all of that. Life is good.

Oxymoronical

I went to St. George this weekend (hereafter referred to as "The George") to visit my BFF Robyn. Here are some highlights:

1) Robyn's baby is one of the cutest babies on the planet and she does cute things like wave when you say "hi." She also has cute cheeks.

2) Robyn's nephew Maddux always gives me the best welcome to The George. He seems more excited to see me than my own nephew does... and he told me my purse was "nice." I got to go to Pirate Island with him and all of the family to celebrate his mom getting a job.

3) The weather in The George was warmer than it was in Provo. It was still cold and a little rainy, but not as cold as Provo.

4) I went to Krumpets and spent too much on cute stuff for my house, that will probably just go in a box with the rest of the cute stuff I've bought for my house. I'm waiting to decorate until the house is painted. Not much longer, folks. Not much longer.

5) I think I won a round of Skee Ball at Pirate Island... but Heather and Robyn won the other rounds. Skee Ball rocks! When was the last time you played Skee Ball?

6) Went to Target and found a fashionable/modest swimsuit and saw the craziest thing ever, which inspired the title of this post. Robyn's mom knows how I'm always on the lookout for polygamists and Amish people (don't ask... I just get a kick out of seeing them in public), so she pointed out some polygamist ladies walking into Target. I didn't know they shopped there. But the awesome thing was that one of the ladies was wearing HUGE WHITE SUNGLASSES!

Do you think she knows that Paris wears HUGE WHITE SUNGLASSES? Do you think she even knows who Paris is? She probably has no idea and doesn't even care, but I thought it was pretty oxymoronical. The sighting was pretty much the biggest highlight of the trip, other than seeing my friends, of course!

Worst part of the trip? Tripping and falling after stepping on a crack while walking out of Pirate Island. More embarassing than anything else, but my hip hurts a little. I'm still not sure how I managed to not break a bone. If anything, my clumsiness has taught me not to fight the fall. Just let it happen and try to roll when you hit the ground. That would explain how I wound up flat on my back, facing the opposite direction from where I was walking. Of course my fall drew a crowd and this one woman tried to make me feel better by telling me that she tripped because of all of the "flashing lights" inside Pirate Island. And then a really old... er, mature guy offered to help me up from the ground. I lied and told him I was "just fine" so that I could save him from embarassment and myself from further embarassment when he couldn't get me off the ground because he was so fragile. Good times.

LOLCat

Rob has a cat. He had this cat before we got married, and when you marry someone, you inherit everything that's their's, including the cat. I remember when I found out that Rob had a cat I actually thought in my head that I couldn't date him because men that have cats are "crazy." And I still stick by my thinking that *most* single guys that have cats are crazy. Anyway, I'm off track. I wasn't jazzed about having a cat, but it just comes with the territory. Right? (As I'm writing this, Rob says, "I'm crazy. Crazy in love.")


Before we got married, I told Rob that I don't think the cat likes me. In fact, I told him I think she "hates" me. He told me that she's just a cat and that's why she looks at me funny. Well, I have been building my case against her for months and I think I finally have enough evidence to convict her of hating me. You be the judge!

Kaydee on the towels

Kaydee behind the blinds


Kaydee on my wool coat with a hanger on her neck. What?


Kaydee sitting on my wedding veil (that's why I didn't end up wearing one)

Kaydee on the dining room table staring at me while I'm surfing the net

Kaydee (black hair) on my comforter (white)

I like to call this Shakespeare Kaydee (we put this headband on her just to mess with her... and no, my washer isn't always in the living room)

Kaydee sitting on some khakis that are on the dining room table

Kaydee on the fridge (she was actually on top of the cupboards before this pic)

Kaydee trampling my clean, warm clothes in the dryer

Kaydee on the stove (by far, one of her most egregious offenses)

Kaydee doing something she's not supposed to be doing

So one day, Rob says to me "I'm beginning to think that she really doesn't like you." Yeah. Case closed. Or so I thought. I'm beginning to realize that she does these things because she *likes* me. Now that I'm around, she hardly gives Rob the time of day. Does that mean she's "my" cat?

Each Life That Touches Ours for Good

I learned some tragic news this morning when I logged in to Facebook. A long-time family friend and former Sunday school teacher and bishopric member was in a horrible accident while hiking Mt. Whitney and died. Just like that. This life is so fleeting!

Kent Ashcraft was a wonderful man and a great teacher. His knowledge of the scriptures was unlike anyone I had ever known. As a teenager in his Sunday school class, I learned that the scriptures could be exciting and that there was actually some cool stuff in there that I could learn. When I was called to teach Sunday school, my first thought was "I want to be as good of a teacher as Kent Ashcraft." He and his family have been such a great example to me. You could tell that they really love one another. I'm grateful to have known Kent Ashcraft and I know that he is probably teaching the scriptures and telling jokes on the other side.

Learning of his death was shocking, to say the least, and I haven't been able to get it off of my mind all day. I called my dad to see if he had heard any details of the accident, and as we were talking he mentioned that in light of the circumstances, it reminded him that some things in life that we worry about just aren't that important. I've been worrying about my broken washing machine, the neighbors leaving trash on their porch and arguing at night, trying to figure out the placement of furniture in the condo, losing sleep over this stinking blog and comments left on it. In perspective, these things do not matter. What does matter is living life to the fullest and serving my fellow man. Instead of complaining about the neighbors, maybe I should pick up their porch trash and ask if they need any help with their kids.

In reading a hikers message board about Kent's death, every person who commented said that they knew his family was important to him, that he was a man of faith, and that he was a caring person. He lived his life so that people would know that about him. Even casual acquaintances. I want to live my life in the same way.

My heart goes out to his wife and children, but I take comfort in knowing that they will all be together again. I'm grateful for the knowledge that this life is not the end and that families can be together forever.

First Date Anniversary Date

One year ago, Rob and I had our first date. There wasn't anything particularly special about the date, but there certainly was something special about the guy who asked me out on the date :) I'm so happy that I got up the nerve to tell him that I had a really good time and that I'd like to do it again. He tells me often that those were the magic words. And it must have been magic, because all I know is that one minute I was thinking that I was ready to go home since I had such bad heartburn, and then the next minute I was telling him I would like to go out again. It must have been the Spirit that moved me.

In honor of our first date anniversary, Rob brought me a dozen roses on Saturday morning. Then we went out to lunch at Ruby River, went shopping for plants at Home Depot, did our grocery shopping at Macey's, came home and planted pansies and strawberries, and then went down to Spanish Fork to see "Monsters vs. Aliens." I would highly recommend the drive to Spanish Fork to see a movie. There were probably 10 people in the theater, and the movie was surprisingly good.

It was nice to spend a day with my honey where we could take our time and didn't have to worry about anything else. We need to do it more often.

One thing that I've realized is that the counsel we've been given by church leaders to have a date night once a week really is crucial to the health of a relationship. Not that we're having a rough time, but life just get's so busy and crazy that I can see how if couples don't take time to just be with each other and not be talking about which bills need to be paid, oil changes, paint colors, etc., that they could possibly drift apart. And when children come, that just adds to the mix. I'm grateful that the gospel gives us direction in every aspect of our lives. In my Sunday school class that I teach, we've been talking about how every commandment that Heavenly Father gives His children, although it may seem more practical or temporal, is actually spiritual. The counsel to have a date night each week may seem practical in nature, but it really rejuvinated my spirit and helped my love grow for my husband.

As busy as life can and will get, we're always going to make it a priority to continue our courtship. It's been a wonderful year with my husband, and I'm looking forward to an eternity of wonder!

Random Friday Thoughts

1. Why is Paula Abdul a judge on American Idol? Have you heard "Straight Up?" That song is whack! That's right, I just said "whack." Maybe she's just there because the producers thought it might be kind of fun to have a crazy drunk lady who gets up and dances during the performances.

2. I've used "Back to the Future" as the paradigm through which I view all time-travel movies, and Lost is really messing me up. When are people going to start fading from pictures? And when is the Delorian going to show up? Somehow I think the Libyans got their sweet VW Bus from the Dharma Initiative.

3. How can I teach the kids in Sunday school that it is important to pay attention in class and not write on each other's legs and take 7 potty breaks? They're 16-17 years old... I thought they would have gotten that out of their systems. I tried telling them that their salvation depended on them learning the Doctrine & Covenants but apparently my hell-fire and brimstone approach didn't work. I just don't know how to reach these kids.

4. Anyone want to teach me how to grow stuff and not have it die?

5. I think I may be hard of hearing... or just have selective hearing. When I was in London, poeple were speaking English to me and I didn't understand a single word of what they were saying. I went to Cafe Rio and I didn't understand a word they were saying to me. So, maybe I have accent selective hearing. It's really becoming a problem for me.

6. There are a lot of "mature" people who live in my neighborhood, and by that I mean "old", but my mom told me that it's rude to say that someone is "old". Anyway, I just have to remind myself that when people drive bad, cut me off, slam on their brakes in the middle of the street, don't use blinkers properly, get in front of me and then go slow, that they're probably just "mature" and I need to be patient with them. My patience only extends to mature people.

7. Speaking of "mature" individuals, there's this lady in my ward who calls me several times a month to see if I have done my visiting teaching yet. She sure is diligent! And the last time she called me she said, and I quote, "Well, I'm supposed to ask you how the sisters you visit are, but to be honest, I don't really care. I'm old. I don't even turn around in church anymore to see who's talking. In fact, I don't even think I know what you look like." I had no response for that. And then she asked me if I was "the young lady who came all the way from California to marry that nice young man in the ward." I just said "yes." I don't want to confuse her. Nevermind that she thinks I'm a mail-order bride.

So, those are my random thoughts for a Friday. I hope that everyone has a great weekend. My husband and I are having our 1 year of knowing each other anniversary. It's kind of exciting. We're going to try to do some of the same things we did on our first date, but the Mexican restaurant we went to went out of business. I have to say I'm somewhat relieved... that food gave me bad acid reflux. I'll fill you in next week. I'll also fill you in on all of the strange stuff the cat that lives in my house does. I promised that I would never get attached to this cat, and that I would certainly never be one of those people that blogs about a pet. But, you know, things change.

Winter Wonder?land

There's a saying in Utah that goes: "If you don't like the weather, just wait a little bit." Well, I don't like the weather right now so I guess I'll just wait until Sunday when it will be in the 70s. This is what I woke up to this morning:


My neighbor took these pictures, but since she lives right down the street, I think you get the idea of what it looked like in my neighborhood. You can tell it's not my house because I would never leave my Christmas lights up this late.

Isn't this snow crazy? I didn't even know all of this had happened while I was off in dreamland... or that trees had been knocked over, power went out, etc. I remember back to 1 year ago when I had my first date with Rob. It was April 19, 2008 and not a snowflake was in sight. We sat outside eating ice cream that night because it was so warm.

I thought April 15 was supposed to be the perfect date. Not too hot, not too cold. All you need is a light jacket. Apparently Mother Nature didn't get the memo.

A Major Award

Do you remember when I posted about Shirley J's products a few weeks ago? I did that post as an entry into a contest to win their entire product line. And guess what? I won the entire product line! This is a major award! Maybe not as major as Becca and John winning round-trip airline tickets, but it's major to me. I've never really won anything in my entire life through luck. I'm what doctors might call "luck-challenged." Sure I've won things through merit, like the Stake Speech Festival and the Freedom Foundation Essay Contest, but never has my luck been lucky.

I went to pick up the goods yesterday and Becky gave me some good pointers on how to use the products. I'm excited for the cream bases and I'm sure Rob is excited about the dutch oven spices. I'll have to let you know how I like them. And if you come to my house for dinner, you'll probably be asking yourselves "is it Shirley J or Jenny from the Block?" You'll never know.

And as a side note, they totally laughed at my comment about the "Dharma" labels and they've hired a designer to re-do all of them. I saw a sneak peek yesterday and they look awesome!

Retraction

It seems that my last post was somewhat misunderstood, and some rather hurtful comments were elicited. I've deleted my post on trying to figure out how to mix holiday traditions because what I was seeking in writing it was to find out how others have dealt with trying to combine or create their own family traditions - what has worked and what hasn't worked - and not personal criticisms or attacks. I in no way intended to portray that I think my husband's family is strange or that they don't do a holiday up proper. I think my husband's family is wonderful and I do enjoy participating in their family traditions, but I'm still trying to find a balance of how to combine both sides, create new traditions and find my place in a new situation. My reason in writing it was to seek some honest, constructive feedback. Comments such as "suck it up" and "stop complaining" are neither constructive nor helpful.

You might be thinking, "well you kind of set yourself up for that," which may be true. If I allow comments on my blog, I'm likely to recieve a few that I don't agree with or are hurtful. That's the risk I take. I could also hand pick who I allow to read my blog, but blogging has been a good way to find old friends, make new ones, and keep in touch with the ones I already have. I'm not going to sacrifice that.

If anyone took offense at my post about holidays, please know that none was intended. I only had the best of intentions and didn't mean to be hurtful to anyone. I am ecstatic to be married, and I am happy to be married into a big family. It is still overwhelming and confusing and wonderful all at the same time. I'm just a newly married human, trying to do the best I can. And it's wonderful that my husband and I have an eternity to figure things out and make things work for us.

I welcome comments, but I expect all commenters to use common courtesy and respect. I have turned on comment moderation and will be moderating comments from now on. If you feel like you need to address something I've written, please do. But please do not block your profile or submit an anonymous comment. I'm a fairly reasonable person, and I'm open to discussion; however, if I don't know who you are, I can't clarify things for you or defend myself, or have you clarify or defend yourself.

To all of those who shared honest, kind feedback, I appreciate your suggestions. Your comments have provided my husband and me with some points for discussion and have helped us to figure out how we want to do our traditions. All I ask of you, my readers, is to consider that there is actually a person who writes this blog. A living, breathing, feeling person. I might look like a rhinoceros, but I have quite a thin skin, really.

Sip Bacardi Like It's Your Birfday!

Speaking of random memories, I was driving in my car the other day when a song by Fiddy sparked a childhood memory of Bacardi. You may wonder why I have childhood memories of Bacardi, since I grew up in an LDS home. I'm beginning to wonder myself.

When I was about 8 or 9, I was smart enough and tall enough to reach the cupboard over the refrigerator if I stood on a stool. My dad hid some cheese puffs up there, and I wanted some. I remember moving stuff around because I wasn't seeing any cheese puffs, when I saw a bottle with some dark liquid in it and a scandalous label. The label had a tropical-looking lady on it, and her boobies were showing. I felt bad about seeing a lady's boobies, being that I was past the age of accountability and all. Nevermind that it was alcohol.

I'd check periodically to see if the bottle was still there, and it always was. I often wondered about it and why it was in our cupboard, but never said anything to my parents until I was a sophomore in college and we were cleaning out their kitchen in preparation for a remodel. I pulled out the bottle of Bacardi and asked my dad why it was in the cupboard all of those years, in the back, unopened. He told me that it was there just in case there was a natural disaster and he had to perform emergency surgery on someone. I had no reason to not believe him, even though he is not a trained medical doctor (he did offer to remove my wisdom teeth using tools from the garage to avoid paying an oral surgeon). I asked him if he wanted me to pack it up with the rest of the stuff, and he said that we should throw it away because it was so old that the fumes that would escape from unscrewing the cap would probably knock someone out. Sketchy, but then again, my dad is a weird dude.

The next time I call him, I'm going to ask him about the Bacardi.

Why Do Asian-Americans Always Have Funny Names?

Do you ever remember really random things from your childhood? I do... all of the time. And then I forget about it. Today at the work potluck I remembered something about this kid I went to school with. His name is Duke Chanaban - he is Chinese - and his real name, as I found out from the Jr. High School yearbook, is Schatchai Chanaban. I'm not really sure why we called him Duke, but I guess it's better than Airport (thanks Kachee).

Anyway, Duke sat next to me in the first grade. He was a little stealer, that Duke! Except that I didn't know it was him stealing my juice boxes, Ding Dongs, sandwiches, etc. until I caught him. Fighting ensued. And what I mean by "fighting," is that I think I kicked him and told him that I hated him for stealing my Ding Dong. He kicked me back and so we were sent to Mr. Pryor's office. Mr. Pryor was rumored to be the meanest principal this side of the Mississippi. I'd heard stories of him spanking kids when they got sent to his office, and I was about to find out if it was true.

Duke and I waited outside of Mr. Pryor's office, probably still kicking each other, while the school secretary called our parents. Except that I didn't know that's what she was doing. Mr. Pryor then called us into his office. I sat there, looking up at all of his certificates and pictures on the wall, and stopped when I saw a paddle mounted above his desk with the words "The Board of Education" written on it. I was so sure he was going to spank us, and I hoped Duke would get it first. Even though corporal punishment hadn't been practiced in schools for years, we didn't know that yet because we were only 6.

Mr. Pryor walked to the other side of his desk and sat down and asked us why we had been sent to his office. I told him that I caught Duke stealing my Ding Dong and that he'd been stealing stuff from my lunch for a long time, so I kicked him. He asked Duke if that was true, and Duke said, "Yes, I took the Ding Dong... and I also took Shontel's Twinkie." Busted! Duke was gonna get it and I would be vindicated! Except that "The Board of Education" remained right where it was and never came into contact with Duke's butt. Instead, we both got a lecture on the Golden Rule and that if Duke doesn't want people to steal his stuff, then he shouldn't steal and that I shouldn't kick people if I don't want to get kicked back.

Duke and I walked back to class and as we sat there in our reading group, I plotted ways I could get back at him. The Golden Rule? In one ear and out the other, right? My time came a few weeks later when I came down with a sudden case of the stomach flu. We were standing in line to go out for lunch, when the urge to vomit hit me real bad. Duke was standing behind me in line, so I turned around and let the chunks blow all over him. He started crying, I started crying, and then all of the kids in line started crying and barfing all over each other. Wait, that's a movie. I think just Duke was crying.

Several months passed without any confrontations with Duke, when one day he got up from his chair, pushed it under the desk, stood next to me and peed his pants. When it hit the floor it splashed up onto my leg. It's a good thing I was wearing knee socks, but the pee still touched me so I started crying. Mrs. Bova, our teacher, came over and when she saw the puddle on the ground she sent one of the other students to the janitor's office, Duke to the nurse's office, and took me to the sink in the classroom to take my socks off and wash my leg. And when Duke came back, she told him he was going to trade desks with someone else.

I never exacted revenge on Duke for the peeing incident because the school year was over and we were in different 2nd grade classes. But every time I saw him on the playground I remembered his injustices. By the time 3rd grade rolled around, we'd both forgotten the whole thing. Duke and I went to the same Jr. High and High school, but I haven't thought about him since then. I wonder if he's still up to his Ding Dong stealing, pants peeing ways.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

From Facebook:

Hi,

Barack Obama (Washington, DC) has confirmed you as his fourth cousin once removed on We're Related. Follow this link to see how you are related: (I took out the link because I'm sure it contains malware).

We're Related Team

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

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.