Monday, June 23, 2008

What I Know For Sure - Volume V

Have you missed this feature? It's been a while, and I've learned a few things lately so let's get up to speed. First, what Paul Reiser knows for sure:

“Sometime during those forty-five minutes between feedings when you actually are asleep, a little man comes and takes your nouns away.” - from his book "babyhood"

1. I don’t know what the going rate is for idiots these days but whatever it is, I’m grossly underpaid
2. Ron Paul has dropped out of the Presidential race. I could have saved him some money.
3. The Lakers can't win a playoff game EVEN IF THEY OCCUPY A 24 POINT LEAD.
4. Using a gas lighter instead of a torch to melt the brown sugar on your crème brulee does not produce the same effect - I learned this on Father's Day - I don't want you going around thinking I whip up crème brulee on random Tuesday nights
5. The commercials where they make real people look animated aren't cool
6. Applying moisturizing chap stick before buzzing on your bike through the buggy area of the lake is a bad, BAD idea
7. Purple jelly beans always suck
8. Sonic has happy hour every day from 2-4pm. Drinks and slushes are 1/2 price. What else do I need to know? Except that their shakes are also 99 cents during the month of June. And JUST now I learned that there is nothing on my keyboard that will produce the "cents" symbol. Has it always been that way?
9. Behind every good man in a road trip crisis is a good woman with a bag of wipes
10. Anyone who still operates under the notion that all black people have rhythm has never seen Oprah dance

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Cautiously optimistic

This whole house thing has been a bit of a roller coaster, and I will spare you the gory details but as for now, our house is back under contract which means we are back to being excited about the house we're trying to buy. It is being built, and is supposed to be finished at the beginning of August. I have been negligent in remembering my camera on my visits to see the progress because I think part of me doesn't want to get too attached, but it's kinda too late. Anyway, my friend Ganelle went out there with me yesterday and since she was sick of me forgetting my camera, she brought hers instead and took some pictures. So, here's a little sampling of our (hopeful) new digs!

KIDS IN FRONT


THE BACK


LOOKING INTO THE FAMILY ROOM FROM THE KITCHEN - THIS IS WHERE WE WILL SNUGGLE UNDER BLANKETS WHEN IT'S SNOWING, OPEN CHRISTMAS PRESENTS AND WATCH THAT FIRST SEASON OF "MACGYVER" ON DVD THAT CORY GOT FOR FATHER'S DAY.


IF YOU COME TO VISIT ME, THIS IS WHERE YOU WILL READ MY EXTRA COPIES OF 'O' MAGAZINE WHILE YOU'RE CONDUCTING YOUR "BUSINESS" AND WHERE I WILL PROVIDE YOU WITH AMPLE SUPPLY OF PERT SHAMPOO


SAMANTHA STANDING IN SHOWER OF THE MASTER BATHROOM WITH MY FRIEND'S LITTLE BOY - LET'S HOPE THIS DOESN'T BECOME A HABIT


DREW IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MASTER BEDROOM

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Dear Dad, Thank you...

…for coming to my high school basketball games and yelling almost as loud as mom.
…for pretending you liked Wile E. Coyote as much as we thought you did.
…for hating to discipline us, but loving us enough to do it anyway.
…for insisting that the guy selling you the used car fill out the proper sale amount on the paperwork, even though he was trying to do you a favor by reducing it. You didn’t believe in favors unless they involved integrity.
…for loving Tim Conway.
…for teaching summer school so many years in a row because we needed the money. In case you wondered if anyone noticed besides mom, we did.
…for going to college.
…for saying "bollocks" and "aaaaaaargh!" and "ghe-mi-ga-shu-maaaaahhhhhh!" When you were mad, usually while working on cars, instead of…other things.
…for the killer song machine you gave me for my 21st birthday, and for drilling a hole in the dashboard to install it so it could be heard effectively throughout my college town.
…for always wanting to do the right thing.
…for being the kind of high school biology teacher that never ate out, and instead ate in his classroom with the doors open for any students who might need a listening ear or just a place to go.
...for thinking that $15 for a shirt is a ripoff.
…for leading a group of family and friends in a rousing rendition of “I’m A Yankee Doodle Dandee” in the airport with banjos and red, white & blue Styrofoam hats when coming to pick me up after my first airpline flight, which fell on the fourth of July. (For those of you who know me, but not my father, does this help explain things?)
…for regularly telling us that you loved us. We could always tell when you’d had a particularly hard night in the Bishop’s office. You would walk in the door, half hunched over with strain written into your forehead and interrupt “Knight Rider” to make sure we knew it. We did. We do. I love you too Dad. Happy Father’s Day.

Friday, June 13, 2008

How Social Security tries to kill us off

If you are planning to spend a few minutes on the internet today, I have found the best way for you to use it. It comes to you from my friend Kira, a very gifted writer who is not only hilarious, but even more hilarious. Grab a cold one, sit down, and READ THIS. Then READ THIS. It ends in universal victory.

Monday, June 9, 2008

Do you believe in miracles?

In the planning of our summer schedule we have dedicated our Wednesdays as "Pool Day". This sounds fun, right? When you hear the word "pool" don't you start dreaming in different shades of aqua blue and fantasizing about nonchalantly sipping your cold beverage while donning the coolest, newest, hippest sunglasses? Yeah, me neither. My sentiments are more like, WHAT? I'm supposed to wear a bathing suit? Like, with other people around?

The last time I bought a bathing suit was six years ago. I went into a department store and saw a section labeled "Miracle Suits", figured they were talking to me, and bought this little number. Cute, right? It claims to take off ten pounds in ten minutes. It comes pretty close, although being able to achieve deep breaths while wearing the suit is irrelevant to the makers of this product. Nevertheless, I'm open to compromise when discussing revealing one's thighs at weekly conventions of Moms Who Should Not Be Allowed To Claim Childbirth And Look Like That. Also, I'd like to let the brains behind the operation of Miracle Suit know that there's more work to be done. Metaphorically speaking, more mountains yet to climb. As in, it's time for me to buy another bathing suit. Are you with me? I need more than a miracle, and I'm willing to give you more than ten minutes. C'mon, what have you got?

Thursday, June 5, 2008

I'm A Hummer

When I was in college I had a roommate Nicole who used to make fun of me for humming all the time. I didn’t even know that I was a hummer until she pointed it out, and then I started to pay more attention and realized that she was right. I hummed ALL the time. She was also my roommate during the period when Cory and I were dating. He and I had been seeing each other for about eight months when he made it known that his feelings were pretty serious. Like, eternally serious. He sensed that I wasn’t ready so we continued to date and left the “m” word out of it. Halloween night of 1992 became a pivotal moment in our relationship. I spent all day feeling very strongly that I needed to break up with him – that night we spent the evening at separate events with friends and afterward he came to my apartment to see me. Everyone was already in bed and all the lights were off, so we went into the dark kitchen where we started to talk. I couldn’t hold it in any longer, and I told him that I needed to walk away from our relationship. He hugged me tight while our emotions bubbled over the surface and then he respected my wishes, let me go, and walked out the door.

A few days later Nicole nonchalantly weighed in and stated, “You’ve stopped humming.” She was a keen observer. For two weeks I zombied my way from class to class and moderately stalked what was now my former boyfriend. I’d stare out my window from the Humanities building and watch him walk by after my Spanish class, lamenting our former routine of walking that sidewalk together on those days. One afternoon I stood behind the freshman dorms which boasted a view of his campus employment just so I could see him exit the building at the end of his shift. I stopped eating. Just kidding. Who does that? Lots of people, I know. But I’ve never known a crisis that didn’t improve when garnished with a batch of chocolate chip cookies. Where was I? Oh yes, break up remorse. I was miserable without Cory in my daily routine. Two weeks later I had a big test to study for and decided that I needed the private confines of the library instead of the bustle of activity that was my apartment, so I gathered my books, shoved them into my bag and set out for campus. On my way out I saw the phone and I thought to myself, “Self, studying would be good and important and the main reason that your parents are paying thousands of dollars in tuition for you to be here. Also, I think I will call Cory.” I called, he answered, and I asked if I could come over. He said “yes”.

His roommate answered the door with a grin and confessed that he was glad I was back, and then I entered the kitchen where Cory stood. He was making guacamole, and when he saw me a smile spread across his face that made my insides calm down and he came over to put an arm around my waist and give me a sideways hug. I was instantly cured. We looked at each other and determined that perhaps a drive was in order. I navigated my “Beast” (as my suburban was affectionately called) to the base of the mountains in Provo where we talked for three hours. I mostly confessed that in addition to losing my ability to hum my way through life the act of breathing, sleeping and functioning at acceptable levels had become increasingly difficult since our breaking up. He said, “I made out with two other women while we were apart but it’s only because I missed you so much” “let’s give this another shot.” My lungs filled with air and exhaled fully for the first time in two weeks as my world became whole again. The next morning I resumed humming and bought donuts for my roommates for breakfast, and Nicole said she liked it when Cory and I got back together. Four months later he proposed to me at the Springville Art Museum and four months after that we were married in the San Diego Temple. That was fifteen years ago today, and I’ve never looked back.

Happy Anniversary Studly.

Monday, June 2, 2008

Wondering...

Are there people who still think that calling Arnold Schwarzenegger "The Governator" is funny?