Another Fuzzy Memory...since my scrapbook was already out

I mentioned that Kristen broke into my room to decorate it.  

What I DIDN'T mention, was what greeted her in my room!

She had to scale a literal MOUNTAIN of laundry just to get to my bed.

I have photographic evidence:

In my defense, all those clothes are clean and were initially dumped on top of the bed--not on the floor.  It's just that when they hadn't been folded by the end of the day and Doug and I were dead tired...they got shifted.  (And then left for two more days while the pile was added to and subtracted from.)

If Kristen weren't such a good friend I MIGHT have been a little embarrassed.
But I'm too tired for those kinds of emotions these days.

It did, however, remind me of a similar messy bedroom situation from long ago...

{cue going back in time music...}

When I was 16 and still living in Salt Lake City, my first boyfriend was Joe Nelson.  (Joseph Nephi Nelson to be precise...!  How's that for a good solid Mormon name?)

So anyway, one day, he came over to my house when I wasn't around to ask me to Homecoming.

He filled my room with shredded paper,  left a rose and a balloon, and covered the floor in Hershey's Kisses hiding in the paper... (that each had a sticker on the bottom marked with one letter that I had to put in order to spell out a message that led me to my tape player which held a cassette playing the Simon and Garfunkel song "For Emily, Wherever I May Find Her" and asking me to the dance).

It was all very romantic.

16 in Salt Lake City

Only one problem:  My room was a hideous mess.

Clothes all over the floor, clutter covering every surface.

(And yet my mom let him in to my room.  Thanks for nothing Faezer.)

Later, when I thanked him while also expressing my embarrassment about the mess he mumbled something like..."yeah, I kinda noticed that..."

I think my slovenly-ness contributed to our relationship being short-lived.

Adam Something, Julie Adams, Me, Joseph Nephi

*sigh*
Moral of THIS story is some things never change:  Once a mess, always a mess.

Good thing (some) people love me anyway!

(For the record, I have one kitchen cupboard and an underware drawer that are so beautifully organized they could be on the cover of "Organizers Weekly".  Also, my clothes are in rainbow order and my hangers are all the same color.  Just sayin'...!)

"I'm So Far Behind I Think I'm First"

Pretty sure I had a "Garfield" poster saying that when I was a kid.  Or maybe it was on one of those posters you could get at the Book Fair and one of my teachers had it hanging in her classroom at Butler Middle School...?  And maybe it wasn't Garfield but an adorable gray kitty in a track suit...?  Hmm.  I'm sad that I'm thinking about this.

Anyway, what I wanted to say before I got sidetracked by that little cat tangent, is that I'm so far behind in my blogging that I don't even know where to start.

We've been doing lots of stuff lately.
Fun stuff, not so fun stuff...all sorts of stuff.

I.e., we've moved.

Sorta.

We're actually still in transit.

In Hawaii.

It's called "Circuitous Travel" and your tax dollars are paying for it.
("Sorry Suckas!" as Max and Sam would say...)

We've had a great trip despite the jet-lag and occasionally whiny/irrational/ungrateful/tired/bratty but adorable children.

No really!  We have!  It's been fun!  But we're ready to get to California and start building a practice without a 16 hour time difference and poor Skype connection interfering.

So that's what's going on.  I plan to do a few pre-dated catch-up posts when life settles down, but it may never settle down again, so no guarantees.  (Not that you give a rip about our Hawaii trip, but when did lack of audience interest ever stop anyone from sharing vacation pictures?  Huh?  That's right:  Never.)

Now we know where everyone stands.   Oh wait...I actually don't know where you stand.  Are you FOR vacation photos or AGAINST?  Or would you rather just talk about how we're going to decorate Doug's new dental office?

Thoughts?
Feelings?
Confessions of love?

I want them all.  Comment on!

A Visit to the Archives

Last night I was looking through old photo's (on the hard drive) trying to find this:

Photographic evidence for Sammy that he (Sammy) does indeed like beans.  Contrary to his protestations last night when faced with having burritos for dinner.

(After being confronted with such glaring proof, he did in fact eat his burrito two hours later in order to earn a before-bed-time bowl of cereal.)

In the same folder of pictures taken in July of 2005 near the time of Sammy's first birthday...

(Remember the cute puppy party I threw for him and the awesome puppy cake I made him?

  No, you don't.  Because it was before I blogged.  Yes.  I am wearing a sweater in July.  It was San Francisco.  Summer=BRRRR!)

...I found this gem:

The extraordinary cuteness of this video overwhelms me.  I just want to go back and smother that innocent little stinker with kisses.

Here's another season-appropriate memory:

Friends Camden, Ani and Maggie sitting on the stairs of the church building with Sam and Max on Easter Sunday.  Man, I really miss San Francisco sometimes.  We loved it there!

and just one more little piece of eye candy:And Doug wonders why I want more kids!

---

Speaking of kids:  I'm doing a Frame-Name give-away on Gratuitous Reviews right now.  You can get your kids an awesome gift for their Easter Baskets!!!  FIVE WINNERS!  But HURRY!  You only have 48 hours to enter!!!!!

How I Courted Your Father -- Part IIII

(No idea what I'm talking about?  Get caught up here!)

Two days after our first date, Douglas joined me at my cousin Wendy's apartment for a dessert party.  Wendy(Rama) and I got together with our Carlsbad friends semi-regularly and the functions usually revolved around food of some sort.  Usually dessert.  

(Who knew that Wendy would one day be a FAMOUS PHOTOGRAPHER!?!?!?!?)

Doug and I arrived at Wendy's apartment at The Riv where we were joined by Kristen and Shawn (married), Wendy, (maybe her latest boy-toy?) probably some of her roommates, and Mindy and Matt who were dating.  

It just so happened Wendy's parents were in town.  My fabulous Uncle Clyde and marvelous Aunt Jeanette.   (Remember Uncle Clyde has already been mentioned as an important character in this saga!)  They stopped by that night and Doug and Uncle Clyde immediately hit it off.  My Uncle Clyde is a dentist.  He actually served in the military in the Vietnam War as a dentist.  I watched them talking animatedly and felt happy that Doug was with me.

(When they went home to Carlsbad, they gave my mom, who was living there at the time, a very favorable review of the boy I brought to Wendy's party.  Doug had earned their seal of approval.  They weren't the only one's he impressed.  All my friends told me later that they really liked him.)

The thing about that night was, I had an additional engagement scheduled for after the party that I hadn't discussed with Doug.  When the party was wrapping up, I told Doug that Matt had asked me for some help and asked if he'd like to come with me.  

Matt was a film major and that night he'd gotten permission to use a local photography studio for a few hours to work on a film project for school.  He was making a Mac Computer commercial and had asked Bryant and I to be in it.   Yes, the same Bryant from the Rock Garden.  (I met Bryant through Matt and Mindy.  They were all in the same ward.)  (Yes.  I did find Bryant on Facebook.)

The instructions Matt had given me for that night went something like this:  "bring a really sexy outfit."  Hmm.  Okay.

The premise of Matt's commercial was this:  A man (Bryant) has a choice between two doors.  He walks up to door #1 and looks in the peep hole.  He sees a ravishing and fantastically beautiful woman... (that would be me, people).  He then goes to door #2 and looks in the peep hole...he sees a Mac computer.  

He picks door #2  

(jerk.)

(just kidding.)

(It was actually a really funny commercial.)

When we got to the studio, Matt and Mindy were setting everything up to do Bryant's part first.  Matt led us into a dressing room and offered me his theater make-up telling me to get prettied up.

Then he left us alone sitting in front of the dressing room mirror.  For the next hour or so, we talked.  We talked about life and school and family and friends and all sorts of things.  The conversation flowed smoothly while we stared into each other's eyes by way of the mirror.   (Did I ever mention that Doug has the BEST blue/green eyes?  They're very pretty!)

I was sorry when we were interrupted...

"I thought you said you knew how to put on liquid eye-liner!!!"  Matt rebuked when he entered the room.  

He then proceeded to put it on for me and thus began my film career.

Now, you know how when Oprah started out, her show was pretty trashy?  Well, my job that night was to sit on a stool in a short skirt and look seductive.   (Hey!  You take what you can get in Hollywood!)

I was woefully unprepared for the part.

As you may have noticed from reading my blog, I don't take myself very seriously. 

And I had no other acting skills to speak of.  I never took dance as a kid, (which involves using your body to relay a message to the audience...usually while wearing spandex of some sort)  or drama or acting...I took 10 years of violin lessons.   And I was never, EVER required to look seductive at a recital.  

This was entirely new territory for me.  I was so embarrassed I couldn't do anything but blush and giggle.  I made Mindy and Doug leave the room but it didn't help.  (Little did I know they were right around the corner and were still watching and listening.)  

Matt tried to coach me and coax me into hamming it up.  "Come on!  Pretend you're a Playboy  model!!!" he joked.  It didn't work.   I couldn't relax and I couldn't make myself stare deeply into the camera and wink.  I just couldn't do it.

Matt DID finish the commercial, but my acting career began and ended that night.

On the way home, Doug let loose on Matt.  "I can't believe that guy!  That was totally inappropriate!  I was THIS CLOSE to telling him off!"  

I was shocked and amused!  We'd just met and yet he wanted to defend my honor!!  I had to laugh and assured him Matt really was a good guy and my virtue was still intact.  (He eventually forgave Matt.  They're friends now.)

That night I came to an important conclusion.  But before I tell you what it was, we need to jump even further back in time.

Flash back to June, 1994

I was 16.  I was the last kid left at home living in Salt Lake City with my parents who were NOT happily married and hadn't been for as long as I could remember.   (Six months later I would move with my mom to Carlsbad.)  

In my Mia Maid class at church, we had a lesson on marriage.  We talked about what kind of person we wanted to marry.  We were then asked to list everything we wanted in our future spouse, in a letter to ourselves.  We were given stationary and told to seal the letter and keep it for the future.  We could open it later when we found the man of our dreams to see how he measured up.  

Remember how I said I keep everything?  Sometimes being a pack rat pays off.  This is the letter I wrote in June of 1994:  (It currently resides in my Wedding Album.)

And now back to April, 2000.

Shortly after meeting Doug, I started keeping a mental tally in my head of his pluses and minuses.  

Pluses;  Goes to BYU, has a definite career goal, (good aspects...I mean prospects!!) spiritual, handsome, funny, down-to-earth, rock climbs, similar family values, gentleman, worthy priesthood holder, loves his family....CHECK CHECK CHECK!   

Minuses; played tennis in High School* and listens to Country Music. (bleh!) 

I decided those last two were of no eternal import and decided to forgive him.   Oh, and he was tall, BLONDE, and handsome instead of tall, DARK, and handsome as clearly specified on the reverse side of my letter.  But I let that slide too.

That night I made a decision.  It was our second date and I distinctly remember thinking;

  "I could marry this guy!"

And four months later, I did!

The End

(Was that too abrupt?  Should I go on?  You tell me.  I'm just really tired tonight.  But  I'm just here to make you happy, so tell me what you desire!!!)

*Sorry tennis players.  It's just that at the time I associated tennis players with short white shorts and sweaters draped over shoulders.  I've since forsaken that evil view and now look very favorably upon all the tennis players of the world.

How I Met Your Father -- Part II

Read Part I here!

I was about to give up and drive the 4 of us back to Old Mill when Anna walked in to The Rock Garden and saved the day.  She quickly got behind the counter, told the other employees we were "okay", and grabbed us all climbing shoes and gear.  

Now, Doug teases me all the time that I was on a date with another boy when we met.  I maintain that it was strictly a "hang-out" and that Bryant was just there for the free climbing.  This is evidenced by the fact that he disappeared from my side as soon as we had our climbing shoes on.  (I don't deny I had a crush on Bryant, but I am pretty positive the feeling was not mutual.)  (Now that I mention it, I think I'm going to try to find Bryant using Facebook. Maybe then he can settle this once and for all!) 

The point is, Bryant disappeared into the depths of the gym as did the girls from church, and Anna and I did our own thing.   

For me, that meant attempting a "bouldering problem".  For Anna, it meant staring at a long-haired, tattoo-covered, bare chested Tarzan on the wall opposite me.  After awhile, I got tired and sat down to watch also, with a small crowd, as Tarzan attempted the last few moves of a particularly difficult climb.  At some point, someone sat down next to me and somehow we started talking.

It was just the casual chatter of two people taking a break before going back to what they were doing a moment ago.  But we chatted long enough for me to draw two conclusions.  1) This guy was hitting on me, and 2) I didn't mind this guy hitting on me.  I do remember feeling vaguely worried that Bryant might walk up and scare the new guy off, but he didn't.  Like I said, he was busy doing his own thing. 

After a few minutes, we went our separate ways and I wandered over to Anna.  She was still watching Tarzan and made some comment about his climbing magnificence.  I pointed across the room--toward a total stranger as far as she knew--and said "I want to go on a date with that guy!"

Part III tomorrow!

Just kidding, I'll keep going.

So anyway, Anna hadn't seen me talking to this person so she was a little baffled that I was pointing to someone random in the crowd. 

Awhile later it was time to go.  I'd kept my eye on "the guy" and noticed he was also leaving.  After my bold declaration to Anna, I determined I really did want to go on a date with him.  He was good looking, seemed nice, and was a rock climber.  But I could make the first move.  Dad said girls don't call boys.  And I didn't.  Nor did I approach them and ask for phone numbers.  

It was all in his hands.  But I was running out of time and was giving up hope.  He didn't know my name and definitely didn't have my number.    He had his shoes on and all that was left was for him to drop off the climbing shoes and leave. 

He set them on the counter.

He turned towards the door.

Then miracle of miracles...he turned around and caught my eye.  

He walked over to me on the bench where I was changing shoes.

(Bryant was nearby but not conspicuously close.)  

We started chatting again and I quickly learned the following facts:

1) His name was (and amazingly still is) Doug

2) He was going to BYU  (Score!  This meant he was likely a good student.  You need good grades to get into "The Y".)

3) He was majoring in Zoology and planning to go to Dental School  (EXCELLENT!  He actually had a real major and a PLAN!)

4)  He'd done a Semester Abroad in Jerusalem  (Bonus!  He obviously valued culture and travel.)

5)  He'd been on a 2-year mission to Germany  (Righteous!  'Cause, you know...he's righteous.)

6)  He was four months older than me  (Seemed important to him, but whatever.)

I have no idea what I said to him or what info he gleaned from me other than my name and probably school, but I guess it was enough.  Just before walking away he said, almost as an after thought;

"Hey, I'm going climbing with some friends this weekend, do you want to come?"

Okay, I really will do Part III tomorrow.  Don't want to use all of my best material when I still have 15 more posts to write this month...

Hasta Manana!

How to Acquire a Step-Twin

(This is where I would place a scanned copy of Ang's 8th grade class picture. IF all my scrapbooks weren't on a Slow Boat to China! er, Japan!)

Angelique and I met in Mrs. Ball's 8th grade History Class. The class was full of perverted pre-pubescent boys (Standard Butler Middle School fare) and only 4 or 5 girls. I remember scoping out friend prospects and sensing that Angie and I might be compatible. Similar height and build, of average coolness and popularity; not a nerd, but not stuck up. I thought we might get along. And I needed someone to pass notes to so I wouldn't have to pay attention. (Can you say ADD? See the "C" grade on my report card.)

It didn't take long for me to realize I'd been very wrong. I had WAY underestimated her coolness.


We got to be good, but not close friends that year. I still have a note from her from that class. I stuck it on one of my many "Ang pages" in my scrapbook. It's scrawled on a little torn scrap of paper that was crumpled and probably thrown to me 4 seats back. It says "Some people drive me CRAZY!!!"

Yep. We were kindred spirits right from the start.

In 9th grade my family moved and I had the option to change schools. I was thrilled to leave skeezy Butler behind so the next year I transferred to Wasatch Junior High and joined the cream of the Wasatch Front. Unfortunately, Ang and I lost touch as un-cell-phoned, pre-computered kids tended to do in those days.

(Insert scanned copy of my 9th grade picture showing me with a space between my two front teeth (I'd just had a palate expander put in) and a flat-chest. We're late-bloomers in my family. Like really really really and expensively late!)

BUT then (fortunately) I went back to Brighton for High School (fed by Butler) instead of staying with the Upper Crust at Skyline High.

And that's when it happened... 1st day, 1st class, I looked down the row of kids lined up along the gym wall in Phys Ed...and saw Angie. In that class we realized our mutual love of Badminton and we've been BFF's ever since.

Angelique has done so much for me over the years, it's hard to know where to begin. First of all, she instantly accepted me and made me part of her group of long-time friends. When I was 16 and my parents were on the verge of separating, Ang would come over and drag me out of the house and out of my funk. (Even though I would tell her I just wanted to stay home and sleep.) She defended me from a VERY livid father when I got in a fender bender on the way to a Brighton football game. When I moved to Carlsbad, she wrote hilarious letters faithfully and came to visit more than once. When I went back to Salt Lake to visit, I stayed at her house. When we graduated from High School, we moved into my sister's basement together and started UVSC together.
Then we moved to The Glenwood together.
Then we moved to Carlsbad, CA together.

That's probably where we made our big plans. We were going to stay in Carlsbad and go to school there. (The community college was super cheap and we were making pretty big bucks working office temp jobs.)
Then we would go on missions at the same time.
Then we were going to be roommates again until we were 30...
when we would get married on the same day...
wearing Austen-era inspired wedding dresses.
Then we'd live next door to each other forever.

I messed things up first when I decided to move back to Utah to go to BYU.
And then dropped out, (I did love me some short-shorts in those days.)
and went to UVSC,
but did not drop out,
and did not go on a mission.
Then got engaged,
and un-engaged,
then met Doug at "The Rock Garden,"
and got married 4 months later,
while Ang was still on her mission.
(My bishop told us not to wait for her! Oh, he of little faith!)

Needless to say, we didn't stay roommates until we were 30.

But we're both 30 now, and we're housemates. So that's something!

(This is where I wish I could insert a current picture of Ang and I together, both looking fabulous and happy in front of our beautiful mansions right next door to each other in Carlsbad.)

(Except I don't have one of those. (I'm sure it's somehow Bush's fault.)
So I'll just say this;)

"I love you Angelique! Thanks for letting me be your housemate (if not your roommate) one more time. Thanks for everything. And I mean everything. You rock!!!"

Now everyone else, quit blubbering into your tissue and go call your friends and tell them you love them. DO IT NOW! (See how bossy I am?)

;)

YOU do the work for once!

1. As a comment on my blog, leave one (0r twelve) memory(ies) that you and I had together. It doesn't matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember!

1a) Try not to embarrass me too much. 1b) Try to make me look really awesome.

2. Next, re-post these instructions on your blog. But only if you want to. I don't want to be bossy. I've left my bossiness behind me. Don't post any memories of me when I was bossing you! I've turned over a new leaf!!! Wait. I mean do whatever you want! OR NOT! I'M NOT TELLING YOU WHAT TO DO!!!


Items expressed in purple are the sole responsibility of "acte gratuit" and were not written by the creator of this Blog Meme. (Whomever he or she may be.) The creator of this Blog Meme does not know "acte gratuit" and takes no responsibility for her editing, additions, and/or commentary.

Fuzzy Memories - Kim Edition

We were probably 14 or 15. I was sleeping over at Kim's house and it was pretty late at night. We were home alone.


***It should be mentioned here that Kim's house sits on a laaaaarge piece of property, is very old, and very--let's just say--atmospheric.***


The wholesome activity we'd chosen for the evening was sitting in the kitchen talking (about boys I assume) and roasting marshmallows--using forks--over the gas stove. (Hey, it works, alright?)

Suddenly we hear a noise and both stop to listen.


We hear the noise again and it's coming from the front of the house.


Being young girls, highly excitable, and in an "atmospheric" house, we go to investigate.

We find the front door slightly ajar. "Oh" Kim says, "it doesn't always close tight. The wind probably blew it open."


Nevertheless, being the sensible girls we are, we return to the kitchen and arm ourselves with the largest knives in the knife drawer. Then we sit down and continue talking.


A minute or two later, we hear another noise and both freeze, straining our ears for any sound. I'm sitting with my back to the sink and kitchen window.

Kim is facing me and sitting next to the stove.


In a split second, I hear Kim scream and watch as every drop of blood drains from her face. She's looking directly over my shoulder towards the kitchen window. I swivel my head to see a white face floating in the darkness and smiling and my Banshee screams join Kim's. By now we're both on our feet running across the room. On my way off the bar stool, I fling the knife I'm holding behind me towards the ghostly apparition. Instead of my would-be attacker, the knife hits a glass bowl and knocks it into the sink where it shatters loudly--adding to the cacophony. Kim also throws her knife, barely missing my knee-cap.


Now we're both across the room and turn to face what is surely to be the last thing we'll see before our untimely murders. We're gripping each other, white-faced, defenseless, and still screaming like--well--little girls.


It takes a second to sink in.


It's Stacy. Kim's older sister. She's standing on the porch outside the kitchen window.


She'd gotten home from work, heard us in the kitchen and decided to scare us. So she simply walked out on the deck and popped her head up in front of the window with a big smile on her face.


The ironic thing is, had she actually been an attacker, we would have been defenseless having stupidly thrown away perfectly good weapons.


It's pretty amazing neither of us had a heart incident that night. Or a pee incident for that matter! I think it took a week for my heart-rate to return to normal.

To this day, that is the most scared I have ever been.

I told you my scary story, now you tell me yours!

These Are The Days!

Last night right before the boys' bedtime, my cousin Kim and her husband Cliff arrived for a visit from Utah.

The boys got to play with them for a few minutes and then had to go to bed. This morning I was changing Gabe's diaper when I heard Sam wake up. He left the bedroom and ran straight to the family room window. A second later I heard wailing and gnashing of teeth and went to see what was wrong.

Sam had left the window, prostrated himself on the couch and was fake-sobbing very dramatically.

Me: Sammy what's wrong?
Sam: *sobs*
Me: Are you sad that Max left?
Sam: *sobs* No!
Me: Are you sad that Daddy left?
Sam: No!
Me: Are you sad that Kim and Cliff left?
Sam: YES!!!
Me: Sammy, they're not gone. They're downstairs sleeping.
Sam: But I didn't see theo caw!!!
Me: They flew on the airplane and then I picked them up from the airport.
Sammy: OH!
He then ran off happily to play.

Obviously we're all very excited Kim and Cliff are here.

Now to reminisce for a minute:

Kim has been a profound influence on me throughout my life. She was the first one to introduce me to the joy of shoving Black Cat Firecrackers* in garden tomatoes and throwing them over the fence into the neighbors yard. (Sorry Mom. Sorry yippy-little-dog-next-door.)

Kim was also responsible for sneaking me out my bedroom window when I was 16. We'd drive to "The Border"**, drive to Wendy's, drive to "The Sev"*** and then usually drive home... 'cause we really didn't have anything else to do. (It occurs to me that my dad reads this blog. Can I still get grounded for this, because I'm starting to sweat a little!?)

I like to think I also had a profound impact on Kim. When we were Freshman in college and neighbors at "The Glenwood", I noticed--and commented--that her wardrobe was solely comprised of unisex White t-shirts. (Either from In 'n Out or a Country Music concert.) (Mine was full of men's polyester and black t-shirts...much better.) This rude awakening gradually led her to expand her clothing horizons into form-fitting shirts of other colors and is probably the reason she is happily married today!

Isn't it great how we help each other out through life? Yes, those were the days!!!

Well, I'd love to stay and reminisce, but I've gotta go. Kim and I are going to go blow stuff up.

Sorry in advance to all the neighborhood dogs!

*Dad, remember when you snooped through my room and found the shoebox full of illegal fireworks that I had rightfully stolen from Brandon? And then how you wrongfully confiscated them, taped-up the box and hid it in your closet? Well, one day in a fit of righteous indignation, I snooped through YOUR closet until I found the box and stole the contraband back. Then I filled the box with rocks and cellophane and taped it back up and put it back in your closet. Boy, it feels good to get that off my chest! (I'm only admitting this because I'm pretty sure there's a statue of limitations AND because I'm moving to Japan.)

**Taco Bell. The drive-thru was open 24 hours. It was totally the cool place to "cruise".

***7-11. I'd get the Hot Chocolate and add about 12 Chocolate-flavored creamers. Ummm...chocolate...!