Today's Working Out to Be A Good Day

A few good things have come my way today:

1. I got a wall in my cubicle at work right in front of my computer. Although it suddenly seems like I'm sitting in a shadow, I'm hidden from the semi-annoying girl who sits next to me who talks non-stop.

2. My cousin Sarah was discharged from the hospital yesterday after showing a lot of improvement. Thanks to those who sent good thoughts her way.

3. My new snowshoes are arriving today!

4. I'm wearing skinnier jeans and feel surpisingly skinnier in them.

5. It's supposed to snow 14" today which means that I am going to use my new electric snow shovel and automatically look like a rock star while using it.

6. I stumbled upon my chocolate reserve that I've been holding on to for when I really need it. There's something very self-empowering about having chocolate at your desk and knowing you don't have to eat it right this second. In fact, it's been at my desk for weeks!

2009 Year In Review

I could have been proactive and sent out Christmas cards. This is the first year that a) the thought occurred to me, although it was after I noticed everybody had already sent them out; and b) I thought it sounded fun.

So here's my 2009 Year In Review:

January: Bought a new car (an '07 Honda Accord, gray-blue) after spectacularly rolling my car in a snowbank in that hell hole called Ontario, Oregon. I also soon learned that everyone else in Utah bought a gray-blue '07 Honda Accord as well.

February: Experienced a relatively quiet and uneventful month. I was on the FHE committee where we hosted Snuggle Fest 2009 which was basically nachos and a movie in the cultural hall where couches, love sacs, sleeping bags, and camping chairs were brought in. We got some serious stares from people when we announced it at church. I thought the idea (and title) were clever and catchy. If I hadn't been on the committee, I would have surely come out of deep admiration for the deep thinkers who thought that idea up.

March: Another uneventful month. I traveled to St. George for a work conference and started to discover how much I love my job.

April: Bought a ticket to England! Also experienced indoor sky diving and went to the Hare Krishna temple in Spanish Fork for the Festival of Colors. I am curious if I sustained any lung damage after inhaling so much colored corn starch.

May: Went white-water river rafting where I was told the waves were going to be epic. Turns out that rafting on a super big, inflatable raft is pretty much like all of the other times I've done it: slow and easy and not exciting at all.

June: A busy, tiring, and exciting month. I spent more time in my car driving from state to state rather than standing on solid ground. I traveled up to Washington for my youngest sister's high school graduation where we got caught in a rain storm just as the graduation was about to begin and ultimately turned my semi-straight hair into a ball of frizz.

That same day we received word that my grandpa had passed away which, although was expected, was terrible to experience over the phone and not to have been able to be there to formally and lovingly say good bye. Two days after arriving back in Utah from Washington, Kaylin and I packed the car and headed up to Oregon, which incidentally is one of the worst drives one can do. The speed limit is 55 mph and if you step a toe out of line the cops will somehow know it, find you, and exact unmerciful treatment on you like you're some kind of terrorist. It was fun, however, to spend time as a family and reflect about the amazing life my grandpa led. He truly was a man among men and I could only be so lucky to find someone like him.

One day after arriving back in Utah from Oregon I embarked on the mother of all trips: England! An overwhelming experience in which I was able to experience a country I have always dreamed of traveling to. I still dream about it. I think the best part about my trip was meeting fellow members of the Church and gaining a new perspective on what it's like to be LDS outside of the US. It was wonderful and humbling. I also discovered that all of the clothes I bought in England are way softer than the clothes over here. Seriously, I should have bought more. Soft like butta.

July: Went on a camping trip with my cousins where Kaylin and I made a traditional sausage, egg, and pancake breakfast for the family. Also finished Bleak House by Charles Dickens which has earned residence in my Top Ten books at Number Three. I was also called to be the co-chair of the Ward Activities Committee--a calling which I love because it reminds me of all those times in college when I planned campus activities and thought I ruled the school. I also tried to recuperate from my whirlwind June.

August: Turned 29 and spent it with some of my best girlfriends. It was quiet and understated and as all birthdays go, it was fabulous. Also learned how to make a diaper cake with Kaylin which we gave to our cousin as she adopted her first little baby--an adorable monkey named Gracie. Work also turned up the heat and I was left working serious amounts of overtime as I juggled four construction projects. Somehow August always turns out to be the busiest month of the year for me.

September: Bought a heart rate monitor and took a trip to San Diego for work where I discovered at a work conference that people who are allegedly experts in communications can't communicate worth a crap. Read The Kite Runner and The Time Traveler's Wife and was slightly underwhelmed, I think because I waited so long to read them.

October: Said farewell to my dear roommate Allyson who decided singledom was for the birds. Also threw the pinnacle of all Halloween parties which was subsequently shut down by the cops.

November: Thought a lot about paying to have my car vacuumed and detailed since it had gotten too cold for me to even entertain the thought of going outdoors. Started reading Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell--a book I haven't yet finished but is also looking to rank in my Top Ten list.

December: Traveled home for the holidays and luckily did not total my car. I also learned that I'm terrible at video games even though I made a valiant effort on my parents' Nintendo Wii.

There you have it, folks! Much love out there to all of my friends and family. You truly do make my life better and more fulfilling.

A View From the Top

After driving through some dense fog in the Blue Mountains--the mountain pass just south of the Washington/Oregon border--we made it to the top to see a thick layer of fog below us. Absolutely beautiful.

She's Rejecting This Sweater

Mindy and I have a running joke about when we don't like something we're wearing or we don't feel comfortable in it that our body is rejecting that particular clothing item. For example, for Allyson's wedding we all wore purple except for Mindy since it was Allyson's wedding colors. She had purple in her closet but, as she solemnly told me, "My body was rejecting all of the purple in the closet, so I had to wear black instead."

This is a picture of our dog Licorice in her Christmas sweater. Doesn't that sweater look like something someone would wear to an ugly sweater party? Anyway, we think she looks pretty cute in it but as soon as you put her in it, our rambunctious, irrepressible dog is suddenly rendered immobile. She stands absolutely still and looks at everyone like something is off, almost as if we have betrayed her because she hates that sweater. It's heartbreaking and hilarious all at once.

I know this picture doesn't quite capture the essence, but Licorice is definitely rejecting her Christmas sweater.

This Is How We Crush Peppermint Candies In Our House

Who Couldn't Love This Little Face?

I took out my cousin Tracy's son to see the zoo lights and hit up a little Red Robin.

The highlight of the evening was when Kaylin and Carrie convinced him to say to me, "Melissa, you're weird!"

"No, I'm not!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, you are!"

A verbal match ensued.

I lost.

Boycotting

Kaylin, Alicia, and I made the great trip to Washington for the holidays. Since then, I've done a fat lot of nothing. Emphasize on fat. There's been a lot of lounging, eating, Christmas movies at the parentals house. I'm sure I'm ten pounds heavier.

Funny enough, I discovered that I am perfectly content to go days without checking my email, bank account, facebook account, and even blog. Consider it boycotting the outside world while I am holed up inside my parents' house. Heavenly.

So maybe I'll go shower now. Whatev. I've got time.

You Want To Know Why They Call It Blind Dating?

Wednesday night was my ward's annual Christmas party. I live in an affluent area of SLC so our Christmas parties tend to be a little bit, er, different than the usual ward party fare. We held it at the Marriott, had a nice catered meal (secretly, I think it's because the ward is afraid that if we asked people to go pot-luck style, people would sign up and then not actually follow through), and also held an auction. The proceeds of the auction were donated to a little girl who's in need of a liver transplant. It was nice to give back to a family in need.

We tried to make the party well rounded. There was karaoke and even a live comic. OMG . . . why do we think that live comics are a good idea? They never are. I feel partially responsible. I think it may have been me who suggested that idea.

A girl on the committee said she knew a guy who knew a guy (I know . . . I should have known) and she had seen his act. She referred to him as awkward. I was thinking Michael Scott awkward and I was all for it.

Um, no. If Michael Scott were a real person and somehow showed up at our Christmas party ready to do stand up, it would have been a welcome (and blessed) surprise. Instead we got a guy who sounded . . . dare I say it? . . . special ed. Seriously. I kept thinking he had hit his head or something.

His quote of the night:

Do you want to know why we call it blind dating? Because you get so nervous and then your nipples get hard and it's like reading braille.

Oh, have mercy. He did not just say that.

Silence.

Awkward silence.

I was mortified.

So just in case you've ever wondered why it's called blind dating, there you have it.

On the plus side, we raised about $6000 for Lulu!

Today Is A Hard Day

Today is a hard day. One of my dear cousins is in the hospital suffering from double pnemonia. She's currently on a ventilator in order to give her some much needed rest. I didn't realize until my cousin Tracy told me, but essentially when they put you on a ventilator they have to put you in a medically induced coma. Maybe this just sounds worse than it really is--basically, she's just sleeping--but it's terrifying to have someone you love hover in such a dangerous place.

Sarah's sickness started about two weeks ago when she got the H1N1 virus. This is so crazy to me. When I was in England everyone kept asking us about the swine flu and every time they did I would look at them like they were crazy. I think we even laughed about it like they were just overreacting about a flu, which yes, made people very sick, but still, it was just a flu.

I feel foolish now for this careless attitude.

Today we're fasting for Sarah and praying our hearts out for her recovery. She's a beloved member of our family and we love her so much.

If you can, please remember Sarah and her little family in your prayers.

Where Has My Mind Been All Day?

Eek! I'm a complete idiot. All day today I've been feeling sluggish and not on the ball. Also, I've felt like I've had something to do but couldn't quite put my finger on it.

Not until 1:30 did I realize that I had missed my weekly 1:00 meeting. Read it: weekly. As in, I go to this meeting every week. I can't believe I just did that. Especially because the construction on this specific project is ending for the season and this was going to be my last meeting for a while. It's not a big deal, I just can't believe I completely spaced it.

Ugh.

A Rebuttal

Not from my mom about John Bytheway. . . but from my dad. He read the blog post while I was talking to my parents on the phone. My mom giggled as he read it--she loves this story almost as much as I do. My dad would like to point out:

1. My mom was driving, not him.
2. She had moved the car to a mysterious part of the road so he didn't know where we were when he was racing down the front walk. This makes me think he took his eyes off the front walk looking for our car, thus his untimely demise against the big, looming mailbox.
3. He refused to ever deliver anything again after that momentous occasion. This kills me, my dad rarely says no to doing something.
4. He doesn't really appreciate that it still makes us laugh.

Ah, family . . .

A Little Gem for Ya

Yesterday as I opened my mouth to sing the closing hymn in Relief Society, I let out a burp instead. Here's what's funny about this (other than the fact that I audibly burped in RS): I never burp! I don't know why at that particular moment it just came out and I couldn't stop it. Luckily, it wasn't loud enough for the entire room to hear, only loud enough for the row I was sitting in. But seriously, who does this sort of thing?

Oops! I May Have Walked In On the Gingerbread Man While He Was Changing

As If To Further Illustrate My Point...

That I'm nesting. Today I created a sewing nook. Enough said.

You're Wearing What?

Tonight is my work Christmas party. Sigh. I'm still remembering last year's blessed event.

I was just going to go alone but the people at work are making me bring a friend; thus, Carrie is now my esteemed date for the evening. I bribed her with the prospect of prime rib, sweet potatoes, and salmon.

I was feeling moderately fine about the whole thing until a co-worker came up to me and immediately asked what I was wearing. I hadn't really given it much thought. Since we're living in sub-zero temperatures I figured I would wear anything that would go with tights.

She said the same thing about wanting tights, except she brought up that she has this fancy dress she never gets to wear. It has spaghetti straps and is floor length.

"Oooo, wear it." I said. "Me, I'll just dig up something that I would wear to church."

She gave me a slightly pitying look.

Gratituitous Beefcakes Aplenty

Thank you to the powers of DVR, TV Christmas movies are like a drug. We record all of them. There's something so perfect about ending the day with the fire crackling, the Christmas lights on the garland and tree being the only light in the house, a cinnamon scentsy, and talking about making hot chocolate for everyone. But really, we're all too lazy to make hot chocolate because we're watching TV and that would require us to get off of the couch.

If you haven't caught (and don't worry, it'll be on TV again) the Twelve Men of Christmas on Lifetime, you should check it out.

Here's why it's entertaining:
1. It has Kristen Chenowith of Wicked fame.
2. She plays a New York PR bull dog stuck in Montana . . . movie and TV execs never get tired of this speel even though it's so ridiculous. But Kristen actually pulls off the most saccharine lines as if they were the most natural thing to say.
3. It's a blatant rip off of Pride and Prejudice, meaning you'll know the lines even before the actors say them.
4. There's gratuitous scenes with shirtless beefcakes.*

*You know when women are hired to be on TV or in movies strictly for their hot factor and it's total exploitation of a hot body? Yeah, it's like that. Not complaining, merely pointing it out. Yes, I understand the double standard.

Snow Storm for the Ages

It finally snowed out here. And when I say snowed . . . I mean Mother Nature dumped snow across the entire Greater Salt Lake Valley. The radio was full of reports of accidents and backed-up traffic. I'm so grateful I don't have to take the freeway to get to work.

Kaylin texted me this morning that it took her twenty-five minutes to get to work instead of her usual ten or fifteen minutes. This is funny because all of our other roommates drive at least twenty minutes to work each day when the driving conditions are good. Kaylin and I drive about ten.

I couldn't help picturing the snow piling up and me holed up in my house. Alone on the couch with the fireplace crackling and my favorite shows on TV while I worked from home. Sounds nice, doesn't it? But really, my work is right down the street. I mean, what a crap excuse so as not to go to work. Still . . . .

Something Must Be In the Water

I dont' know what's come over me but I have entered a new phase: the nesting phase. Before you jump to conclusions, no, I am not pregnant. But seriously, I'm wondering if there is something in the water because this is new territory.

I looked up the term nesting:

Around the fifth month of pregnancy, the "nesting" instinct can set in. This is an uncontrollable urge to clean one's house brought on by a desire to prepare a nest for the new baby, to tie up loose ends of old projects and to organize your world.

This weekend I attacked my shower with a fully powered bottle of Soft Scrub and was going full steam until the bleach crept into my lungs and gave me a coughing / gagging fit. I made dinner (eggrolls, you better believe it) and afterwards decided I wanted homemade gingerbread as well. Afterwards, I decided that much of my laundry needed ironing--something I never do, those wrinkles will work themselves out on their own, peeps--and pulled the ironing board into my room so as to be closer to my freshly laundered clothes. I swept the house, took out the trash and recycling.

Whew! If only all of my weekends were this productive. Perhaps this isn't really nesting, but at the risk of sounding lazy and incompetent, I'm rarely this motivated to get so much stuff done in a single weekend.

While this newfound, unexpected, and irrational behavior continues, I'd be happy to come to your houses and launch an attack on your bathroom, kitchen, laundry room, etc.

For a small fee, of course. A girl's gotta eat, you know.

Smack

No, this present isn't sticking out of my neck; instead, this is the mid-air flight of the present as it's being hurled in the air right before it smacked me in the face.

The closed eyes are just an added bonus.

My Own Personal Weather Man

My knee has been hurting this week. Most people know I've had two knee surgeries and it seems to me that it always hurts in one way or another. Boo.

But this week in particular my knee has felt especially tender. So much that Kaylin and my roommate Carrie gave me a serious guilt trip for wanting to go to the gym Wednesday night.

"You can barely walk!" Kaylin cried. "At least take a day off from it."

I did, but I felt guilty.

"Why do you think your knee hurts so much right now?" Carrie asked.

I shrugged. "The last time it hurt like this was last month when we had our first big snow storm. It must be the change in weather."

Carrie nodded her head and looked slightly solemn, but there was a slight tinge in her face as the wheels turned in her head.

I sighed. "This totally makes me sound like an eighty-year-old woman, doesn't it?"

She burst out laughing. "It does. It really does."

Kersplat!

My mom has always liked to do the Twelve Days of Christmas during the holidays.

There have been countless holidays where we have found a family in need and delivered gifts and goodies to them as the holiday approached. There are a lot of special memories associated with this--sneaking up to the house, assembling gifts, that one bitter time when we delivered soda (a most coveted thing growing up) knowing that it was for somebody else.

Once I wrote the most ridiculous poem talking about how we were their Christmas elves here to wish them Happy Holidays. I even wrote each alternating paragraph in red or green ink . . . talk about the epitome of festive. My mom was proud of that poem, weirdly enough, and had a lady from our ward who had stopped by our house one night read it. She wasn't as impressed and even pointed out a mispelled word. Scrooge.

The best memory I have of the Twelve Days of Christmas happened when I was super young, maybe five or six. My mom had baked bread and we were delivering this bread to a family with eight kids (sounds like one loaf wasn't enough, don't you think?) on a cold December evening in the great place of Eagle River, Alaska.

Like I said, it was cold. So guess who was persuaded to deliver the bread? My dad.

He snuck up to the house, left the bread on the doorstep, and knocked loudly on the door. The next thing I see is him racing off the front porch, down the front walk, and through the gate towards our car. Everything was fine until WHAM! My dad had run into the mailbox and landed right on his back.

I'm not sure if he slipped on ice or literally ran into the mailbox in the heat of the moment . . . I was five, you see.

Here's what I can tell you with a surety--my dad was immediately on his hands and knees patting the ground trying to find his glasses in the snow. Time progressed--it felt like eons--as my dad patted (there really is no better word) the ground looking for those damn glasses. What kills me is he doesn't even have that bad of vision. Those glasses must have blended into the night.

The family, by this time, had opened the door and come out to the porch. Rather than noticing the loaf of bread wrapped in tin foil, they were granted with a different surprise--some random man on his hands and knees in the snow becoming increasingly irritated as he patted the snow. Curse words, I'm sure, were uttered.

As this was happening, a crazy woman was sitting in the front seat of our car laughing like crazy. Oh, wait, that was my mom. This may be the hardest she's ever laughed.

At the tender age of five, I was kind of alarmed by my mom laughing because I thought my dad was hurt; however, now, the image of my dad on the ground is automatically accompanied by the sound of my mom laughing. And I can't help but smile.

Christmas Is Here

Christmas is here! I am so excited. For you purists out there, Kaylin and I put up our Christmas decorations the day after Thanksgiving. To be honest, I was a little disappointed that it didn't go up sooner.

Once again, we visited Temple Square to see the lights. For the environmentalists out there, I am sorry if this opinion offends your sensibilities, but I hate that the Church is cutting back on the lights! In my opinion, when it comes to Christmas you either go big or go home. I believe in conservation . . . except when it's Christmas. So this is what I'm saying, I think there should be more lights at Temple Square. I really do.

We've been watching a lot of Christmas movies at our house. Even though the Hallmark and Lifetime Christmas movies always fall flat at the end, I am loving them. Except for Holiday in Handcuffs. I couldn't suspend reality long enough to believe that a) Mario Lopez would fall in love with the girl who kidnapped him over the holidays; b) that girl ended up being Melissa Joan Hart.

A Memory Where My Mother Told Me I Was Not Good Enough for John Bytheway

Long before the days of tank tops being a mandatory undershirt-wardrobe item, I had bought a shirt that had a somewhat deep V-neck in the front. I was living at home at the time (this being the summer between my freshman and sophomore year of college) and it was during that transition when I was starting to buy my own clothes. It felt so weird . . . so adult. I felt a little awkward spending money on myself (wish I felt that way still).

It was Saturday night and darn it if I wasn't going to go out wearing my new purple, V-neck shirt.

Except it was a little lower cut than I realized. I spent the whole night pulling my shirt up trying to cover up the girls. If my face didn't show it, I was feeling more than a little self-conscious.

The next morning (being a Sunday), instead of our usual fare of Disney TV in the family room (for my younger siblings . . . duh), my mom was playing a John Bytheway talk. I sat down, ate my breakfast, and watched it. I mean, I was a more enlightened person at this point in time. I had sat through all of the sessions of General Conference while at college and did not immediately curl up in my blanket and fall asleep. If this isn't definitive proof of my enlightenment, I don't know what is.

And then my mom turned to me with the clear intention of teaching me a lesson.

My eyes widened in surprise and then horror as I realized the lesson being taught.

"That outfit you wore last night was inappropriate. I can't even believe it. How can you be worthy of someone like John Bytheway when you wear shirts like that?"

Um . . . I don't know. I didn't really intend for it to be that revealing.

"Melissa, if you're going to be worthy of someone like John Bytheway, you cannot be wearing clothes like that."

Um . . . John Bytheway? Really?

I find this all extremely ironic since I wonder from time to time if I had pulled out the purple V-neck shirt a little more often if I would have been a little more successful at the dating game. Sadly, it's been donated to the DI where I'm sure another girl is flaunting her goodies much to the dismay of her mother.

**Clearly, this is a funny story, Mom. Perhaps you remember it differently. If so, you should start your own blog with a rebuttal statement.

The Day In Which I Earned the Title of Rico Suave

My cousin Tracy and her family moved on Saturday. Being the kind, benevolent, good-hearted people that we are (read: nothing else was going on), Kaylin and I volunteered our services. Even better, Tracy served doughnuts. It takes so little to make me happy.

I planned on making myself useful. Instead, I found the box of doughnuts on the counter. I grabbed one just as Tracy's husband Matt came up from the basement carrying one end of their very large couch. I couldn't see his face as it was hidden from the arm of the couch but I could see his arm. It was flexed and impressively showing off some well defined biceps. "Nice biceps, Matt," I called out.

Opposite me stood a friend of Matt and Tracy's, I think his name is Kyle. He just stood there and gave me this strange look and then mumbled something that I couldn't quite hear. It was weird. Didn't he know I was just joking? Matt's my cousin, okay? You can say those things in jest.

And then finally Matt's face came into view. Only it wasn't Matt, it was someone I didn't know. Another friend . . . named Wade. Who happens to be married and have children. My eyes widened in horror and I hissed to Tracy, "Oh, my gosh, I just hit on your friend!"

I had to apologize, blushing face and all.

Turns out though, he took it as a compliment. I guess these moments are hard to come by when you're married. Regardless, I had a hard time looking at him in the face the rest of the day.

Found On Twitter

The worst thing you can be is a liar . . . okay, fine, yes, the worst thing you can be is a Nazi, but THEN, number two is a liar. Nazi 1, Liar 2.

My Kind of Home Teaching

Last night our home teacher came over (notice that I said home teacher and not home teachers).

We fed him dinner. Then we let him practice his med school studies on us. He was checking for occlusions in the nerves in our head. He did things like ask us to clench our teeth together, check our eyes, ask us to open our mouths and say Ahhh. I have no idea what exactly he was looking for. Funny thing is, he didn't really either. He said they would teach him that later.

And once he was done, he packed up his gear and grabbed the plate of food that we made him. Just before leaving he asked if there was anything he could do for us. I'm sure it comes as no surprise that we all said no.

To be honest, this question wasn't insincere. He may not have come with a lesson, but I appreciated that he came over. I think we underestimate the purpose of home teaching and visiting teaching--yes, gospel discussions are important but I think it's much more important to build a relationship of trust however that may be.

Funny though that our idea of trusting someone is to let us feed them and then send them on their way.

A Little Gift

We got a surprise last night from our landlords . . . a Christmas tree! Like I said, I have the best landlords. They feel like family which has to be one of the nicest things.

I came home yesterday to see Troy standing in our dining room with a Christmas tree in the corner. His wife Keri and oldest son (Little Troy) had chopped down Christmas trees and had an extra. Troy brought it over.

This may make you ask, where was Troy? Out golfing. Keri officially wins the bad-A award of the year.

I haven't had a real Christmas tree in forever. We never had them in Alaska because Christmas trees aren't exactly indiginous there. So if you wanted a real Christmas tree you had to have one of the trees that were shipped up north from somewhere in the Lower 48--obviously, I'm hazy on the details. So far, this doesn't sound so bad. But do you know what kind of critters will take up residence in a Christmas tree that is being shipped up north? Spiders, snakes . . . bleh. My mom didnt' even mess with that.

When we moved to Washington and had just finished building our house, my mom was thrilled with the idea of a real Christmas tree. She tantalized us with the anticipation of the fresh pine scent that permeated the house. Sadly, we got a tree with no fresh pine scent and the needles fell off about two weeks after we bought it. But it was okay. We had a "spare" in the living room, although we never got a real tree again.

So the new addition to our household has instantly filled me with Christmas spirit. It was already bubbling somewhere under the surface but seeing the tree in our house inspired me to make an executive decision: I'm putting up my Christmas decorations this weekend.

Of course, I still support Thanksgiving. But with a Christmas tree.

DVR Is Dangerous

I may have deleted last week's So You Think You Can Dance from the DVR. And I may be in the dog house.

I am now on strict orders to not delete anything from the DVR without checking first with the entire house.

Well, then. I guess that's settled.

Oops! I Tweeted!

I started a Twitter account. I'm not sure why.

I feel like I hurl thoughts out into the universe and they just sit there . . . floating . . . doing what? Perhaps you could argue that blogging or Facebook is the exact same thing, I would certainly see your point although not entirely agree with it. But Twitter limits you in a sense. It's like you're living your life in sound bites.

Today's tweet:

Reading Gone With the Wind--filled with words I don't know. Lese: to lose. I lesed my mind, y'all.

You Know It's A Success When the Cops Shut You Down

I know it's been two weeks since Halloween and that you have probably seen these pictures on Facebook. Sue me. I haven't had a chance to upload my pictures, and actually, I think Kaylin beat me to the punch and already did it. Whatev.

For Halloween, we threw a party--the party to end all parties. In truth, I am not really a fan of parties. Tons of people I don't know and I somehow find myself clustered around the four people I do know. I cannot conjure up a conversation out of thin air, mostly because I just don't care enough to do so. They ask us to network all of the time at work and I just loathe it. I can't be fake with people I don't know and pretend to be interested in them when I'm just not. I don't believe in making friends just so you can say you have friends. Anyway . . . this one turned out to be super fun.

Our house went as the characters of Clue which was surprisingly hard to pull together. There was one long night when Kaylin and I were at the mall trying to find stuff for Mrs. Peacock and I just wanted to yell and Kaylin just wanted to go home. We were literally out the door when we found my peacock shirt. Surprising.

With the sisters. Kaylin went as Professor Plum. Funny thing is, nobody realized she was dressed up. I think she should have told everyone she was a naughty librarian to get their attention. Alicia was Audrey Hepburn (brilliant!).

My pipe was a spray-painted wand. Nobody was impressed. And someone actually said to me, "Um, you know you could have gone to Home Depot and just asked them to cut you a pipe."

Oh.

Another thing that's interesting . . . nobody knew the characters of Clue. When I told people to guess who I was, they would inevitably say Professor Plum? Um, Colonel Mustard? No, you morons. Look at me, I'm dressed up in effing blue.

Here's where the party gets interesting. We invited everyone we knew, we had friends invite everyone they knew . . . turns out we had about 200 people show up in our small house. Talk about beyond crowded. It was going great until the sorority crew showed up in their skin tight leather dominatrix-styled outfits complete with kitty-cat ears and tails (because, duh! They were cats!) that I really felt the party lost its cool flavor. All available guys zeroed in on them. A little disappointing, if you ask me. It was seriously a scene out of Mean Girls. Which again illustrates my point that men are retards. And if you think I'm sounding a little more jaded than normal, you're probably right. I feel a huge wave of cynicism crashing over me.

Everything was going well until Mr. Police Man showed up with a chip on his shoulder and a gun in his holster. No, he was not here to dance. He looked pissed. Apparently one of our lovely neighbors called in regarding noise, lol. Which brings me to my next goal: taking Christmas cookies to my neighbors this year. I don't know if they like us. In our defense, it was Halloween, a Friday night, and only about midnight. And there was no bong in the den, no drunken maniacs running up and down the streets--it was merely dancing and food. Pretty tame if you ask me.

But I got a SEVERE talking to by the cop. He ripped me a new one and then proceeded to do it again. I was not offended that he showed up at our door; I was, however, mad as hell when he talked to me like I was an idiot about noise ordinances and citations and eventually took my information down. I don't appreciate intimidation tactics especially when I would have shut the door and turned down the music. What a tool.

My landlords were also pretty mad, but not at us. They were mad at the cop and wanted to call the mayor because they "know the guy" and report the cop's name and the disrespectful way he treated their tenants. How funny is that? To quote Troy my landlord, "Melissa, please don't let this be the end of your gargantuous parties." I promised him I wouldn't. And then he got a mischeivous look on his face and said he was going to report us to the cops tonight. We got razzed for about a week from them. Needless to say, I love my landlords!

Thank goodness Thanksgiving is so relaxing because I need a break!

You Were (Mostly) Right!

Mrs. Peacock with the lead pipe in the kitchen.

More pictures to come . . . and of course, I've got stories.

Happy Halloween!

Who am I going to be for Halloween? Your hint is in this picture!

This Just In: I'm Buying Some Cats and Calling It A Day

I was told on Sunday that a lot of people won't come to my single's ward because it's too old. I cringed at the word. Instead, they would rather go to their family ward. Here was my question: if our new bishopric is able to get more people to come to our ward, inevitably they're going to be younger. Which means, gulp, I will officially be in the minority, and I will be one of the few who shares the title of old.

In a world where cougardom is becoming more acceptable, I've given it a thought or two. I mean, why not? Is it really so bad to date someone younger than you? I know couples who have done it. Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher are 16 years apart, but frankly, she looks creepy so I can't really condone that relationship since she weirds me out. I mean, seriously, Demi, plastic surgery and botox is not always the answer.

So on Monday, we had a combined activity with a student ward from the University of Utah. I had expected, and gotten, younger looking faces--the frivolous, easy look of one who is unencumbered by responsibilities, bills, obligations, a 40-hour a week job. And I thought to myself, maybe I could date one of these guys. I mean, they're not that much younger than me.

And then a guy came up to me, his fresh face smiling as he asked if I would dance with him. I had met him when he arrived. I had given him a name tag. He gave me an especially flirtatious smile and I thought to myself that he looked a little young. But whatever, he walked away into the party only to show up an hour later asking me to dance. Once again I thought to myself, he looks a little young, but I wouldn't say no if he asked me on a date. We were learning how to country line dance and even a little swing. Surprisingly, I was loving it. Who knew? It surprises me the things I love that I expect I won't, and I think country dancing might be one of them.

"Where do you live?" He asked. He raised his arm and ushered me underneath it.

"About a mile from here. You?" I was sweeping behind him as he easily switched my hand from his left to his right which brought me back to the front and facing him.

"I live on Highland Drive, down in Sandy."

"Oh, I like that area, a lot of really nice houses are down there." He was now spinning me in circles and the song Any Man of Mine was playing in the background. I was feeling slightly breathless, woozy. Dizziness had taken over and I started drifting off, thinking about how I get dizzy too easily. Vainly, I tried to fight it. I was losing.

"Oh, yeah! That place is great! I love living there! I mean, I've lived there my whole life!"

This didn't surprise me. I meet people all of the time who still live with their parents. I was still mostly thinking about the dizziness, though.

And then he said, "Of course, I still live there. I haven't even gone on my mission yet!"

A record scratched in the distance, I'm sure of it, as I snapped back to attention. He laughed gamely, completely unaware. Picture me: my eyebrows darting up in surprise, a forced smile on my face and perhaps I started laughing a little too hard as his earnest face continued to smile. He was oblivious of what he had just said. I digested the news. I had received googly eyes from a (yes, this is true) A TEENAGER! And what may be even worse, I had thought that if he were to ask for my number I would give it to him. Even Chester the Molester might have thought he was a little young. Sniffle sniffle. Hiccup. Hand me a tissue, please. I've just said good bye to my youth. I can't even pretend to be one of you, my friends.

Sure, I take it as a compliment. He had no idea that I am 29--a full ten years older than him. Sigh. I can only attribute this to the fact that I am the product of years of a Clinique-labored skin regimen and 80 SPF sunscreen. I could be their poster child for diligent skin care and the positive effects of staying away from the sun. But I'm not going to lie, a little part of me died inside. I've never felt a separation in life as distinctly as I did just then.

It's not dating younger guys that's the issue, it's dating younger guys who are in the same sphere as you. And I saw it too clearly that night, if my ward becomes populated by cute, pre-mish, post-mish young people, well, there goes the neighborhood. I am SOL. I sighed again in resignation at the thought.

This thought took me back to a fortune I got last week: Opportunity awaits you next Monday.

So it was talking about next Monday, right?

The Wedding (Not of Horrors)

Allyson's wedding day at the Salt Lake Temple. I love this place the more time I spend in there, it's so beautiful and her wedding was so wonderful. What a great time to spend with friends and family.

Roommates! She was such a beautiful bride.

Sad! We've lost a roommate. What? They say she traded up? Is this because Brian's tall?

Um, Brian, I know you guys are finally married and all . . .

No longer the Fab Five . . . how about the Fearsome Foursome?

Waiting for the luncheon I took the girls to a new waffle place downtown called Bruges. This place is to-die-for good. These are legit, Belgium waffles where they actually make the waffles out of dough and cook it with a cinnamon or vanilla glaze on top. Check it out, you can't miss with it.

Do I have whip cream on my face?

At the luncheon, love my girls.

Weak sauce, Al. He totally got you.

Long day and we will definitely miss Allyson. Good byes are so bittersweet.

The Bridal Shower of Horrors

My roommate Allyson got married yesterday--so exciting. In all seriousness, there are not enough weddings in my life.

I think Allyson was being generous to us when she let us throw her a bridal shower, she had a record 7 showers! So when Kaylin asked her what kind of food she would like, we were thinking something formal. Instead, she asked for a Halloween-themed bridal shower. How awesome is that? We totally ran with it.

Kaylin had a genius idea to make our table Elvira-y. If you notice the goblets, they have spiders on them. We turned out the lights and lit candles throughout the house and ate dinner by candlelight. Spooky music played in the background.

The picture quality isn't great as we ate in the dark. But I have to say everyone should do more parties like this.

Billy Bob teeth were the party favors that nobody took home. What?

Allyson's wedding gift . . . I'm in love with this salad bowl. Sooo beautiful. I think I might buy myself one.

In order to make it "bridal-shower approved," we inserted some sexy salad mixings. It was required.

Cranberry pills? Seriously, guys? No, really, why do I need cranberry pills?

Please don't make me . . .

Great Mystery Novels for Halloween

The leaves are starting to turn and the weather is changing and all I want to do is curl up with a blanket and a book. Maybe Halloween has officially done me in, but this seems like the perfect time to read a good mystery.

A Quick Disclaimer: I think the Mystery / Suspense genre has been butchered to a great extent. It's hard to find a good mystery that doesn't leave you thinking you were just manipulated for an entire book thinking that first it was the high school football coach and then the cheerleader, but no, it couldn't be the cheerleader because she was under the evil influence of the drug lord downtown so then you think it was the drug lord instead. And then you found out it was the WIFE. This is a true story, by the way, in a book I will NOT be recommending. Because at the end all I could think was the writer must think he's one hard core story teller and I just wanted to punch him in the face because he was absolute crap.

Here are my recommendations:

Nancy Drew by Carolyn Keene. Bear with me here. But Nancy was my first introduction to mysteries as a girl and I voraciously read them as fast as I could get them. Kaylin gave me the first six books of the series last year for my birthday and I thought it would be a cute jaunt to read them but I found my heart quickening with each book because Nancy Drew is seriously one tough chick. She'll jump into any moving car, find mysterious passage ways and follow them to see where it leads, sneak into creepy houses . . . and maintain a great tan (because in Nancy's world, it's perennially summer). Maybe they're written for kids but I still enjoy them.

All Around the Town by Mary Higgins Clark. For the most part, I think Mary Higgins Clark is a subpar writer. Hey, I want to enjoy her books, but she writes with absolutely no personality. Her books are practically flatlined before you even start one of her novels. But All Around the Town is a great read. I bought this book for a trip to Hawaii when I was in high school and was gripped. It was so good that I read it every chance I got . . . who cared about Hawaii. My friends totally made fun of me until I finished it and then one-by-one they could all be seen reading that book on the beach and anywhere else they had the chance.

A Beautiful Blue Death by Charles Finch. I just finished this book and it's not bad. Perhaps a little slow and the mystery could have been tighter but I enjoyed it. It's the first in the series and so I'm hopeful that the writer will improve. Taking place in the Victorian era, it's a nice journey to another time.

Masie Dobbs by Jacqueline Winspear. This is my favorite so my review is completely biased. Just to warn you, the Masie Dobbs series is a slow start. The first book is kind of boring, but if you stick with it you will not be disappointed. Masie Dobbs is a female PI just after the First World War stuck somewhere between the changing line of class distinction, feminism, and the aftermath of WWI while WWII is distantly in the future. Most of the time, I can figure out the culprit but it's all in the journey and figuring out why they did it--that becomes the real mystery. Even my mom (whose literary tastes couldn't be further from my own: she likes pioneer books, I read the Classics) loves them. Look at the book art--proof that you can judge a book by its cover because that is actually why I picked it up in the first place. Seriously, go get them. They're so fun to read and you might shed a tear in the process--very few writers can elicit entertainment and genuine emotion in the same book.

And So It Begins . . .

What is it about the holidays that makes me go crazy? Not bat-crazy, put in her in an institution kind of way (although that may be up for debate), but crazy with the drive to make every detail perfect. I'm not that driven, this is what makes it all so weird.

It started with Christmas. Once Kaylin moved in with me I was able to fulfill all of my Christmas-decorating fantasies complete with a fancy tree, lots of lights, parties . . . everything screamed Christmas. And I loved it.

But that crazy, hectic, restless feeling has slipped to Halloween of all holidays, which will in turn transition to Thanksgiving. First it started out with a few pumpkins, then some acorn jars which are too-die-for cute. Now we have skeletons, bats, spiders' webs, ravens, and a stark raving mad witch. She really is scary. And I love it.

I'm not even done. I still have to finish wtih the spiders' webs, hang a spider from the ceiling, and find the right spot for the cute witch my mom gave me so that it doesn't clash with the crazy witch we bought this weekend. It's all in the details--apparently I'm consumed with details.

Kaylin's and my conversation with our parents last night:

Melissa: We're really busy putting up Halloween decorations. We've been decorating for a week and we're still not done.
Mom: Well, once it's done you'll be able to enjoy it for a while.
Kaylin: Actually, no. Once Halloween is over then Thanksgiving comes which means we have to switch out our Halloween decor for the Fall decor. Trust me, there's a difference. And then once Thanksgiving is over we have to switch out our Fall decor for Christmas decor. In between now and Christmas, we have a bridal shower for our roommate, a Halloween party we're hosting, a Halloween party that our landlords are hosting, a Halloween party our old ward is hosting, pumpkin carving, FHE Halloween party, Thanksgiving, Christmas, visit the lights at Temple Square, Christmas parties, sledding, the CES Christmas devotional . . .

Whew, I'm exhausted. We're not even halfway through the month yet and the holidays are eating up every available space from now until December.

I love it.

How to Make A Diaper Cake

Kaylin and I made a diaper cake for my cousin Sarah's baby shower. If you've ever tried to make them you probably know they're trickier to put together than you would immediately think. Here are some easy pointers:

1. When you roll up the diapers, use a construct of cardboard to give the cake structure. We cut strips from a pizza box and a cereal box and taped them together to make a circle that we fit the diapers inside.

2. We wrapped a receiving blanket around each diaper layer. Tuck the excess portion of the receiving blanket in between the diaper and the cardboard. This will make it tight and also give it a nice ruching (is that how you spell it?) around the edge. I thought it gave it some nice flair.

3. Wrapping the ribbon around each layer proved to be the most challenging thing because the ribbon kept slipping and not staying tight. I recommend using small pins to keep them in place. We just used small pins you would use when sewing which were able to stay inconspicuous.

4. Our initial plan was put the goodies we bought for Sarah on the diaper cake but we had too much stuff! A quick solution: using one of those baskets you put in the dishwasher to put it all in. I think it turned out really cute. If you look, there is a green receiving blanket on the bottom, we also used a flat piece of cardboard to wrap the green receiving blanket around it to give the cake something sturdy to sit on.

5. Use real flowers. This was Kaylin's genius idea. It looked so fancy.