BLASPHEMY!

Once upon a time, I went to Disneyland with my sisters.  As we wandered about the park with a pair of two year olds and an infant, moving from churro stand to churro stand, Elise wisely noted that we go to Disneyland for the concessions.

It's true.  You name a Land, and I can tell you where to find a churro, a Godzilla-sized turkey leg, and/or an ice cream sandwich. 

I take food very seriously.

So you can imagine my shock and disgust when Jon said that some Easterners think that

White Castle

is better than

In N Out

 My response, naturally, was...

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! That's not true!  It's impossible!

 After I recovered from my shock, I decided that, in the interest of open-mindedness and fairness, I needed to try it and see.


Fact:  Sulu went to White Castle.  With Kumar.

Fact:  I have never SEEN that movie, but for some unknowable reason, the fact of its existence is permanently embedded in my brain.  Unlike the password for my online banking OR the answers to the challenge questions.

Speaking of movies, for those of you who got the random Footloose text yesterday, let me explain.  The radio station was pretty much playing the Footloose soundtrack and I couldn't remember the name of the movie to save my life.  Of course, I could remember that it was filmed in Utah, that they played chicken on tractors, that  Kevin Bacon and John Lithgow were in it (important knowledge for you players of "Six Degrees to Kevin Bacon"), that the main actress was a slutty girl named Ariel, AND the lyrics to "Let's Hear it For the Boy."  But not the name of the movie.  Hence, the call for help.  It was driving my CRAZY.

Back on track.  I decided to try White Castle before judging, so I asked Jon to go there after leaving Graeter's frozen custard (Buckeye Blitz on a sugar cone.  Yum.)  See, I came all the way to Ohio and am focusing on the concessions. 

The results:

1.  White Castle sells onion rings.  Point to White Castle.
2.  It turns out they were actually onion CHIPS, so...half a point deduction from White Castle.
3.  In N Out is FASTER.  Point to In N Out.
4.  In N Out has a secret menu that makes you feel cool when you order off of it.  Point to In N Out.
5.  White Castle is CHEAP. Point to White Castle.
6.  In N Out burgers are life-sized OR LARGER.  Point to In N Out.
7.  In N Out has scripture references on their packaging.  A million points to In N Out.

It wasn't looking good for White Castle, but I hadn't tried the food yet.

Final verdict: EASTERNERS HAVE CLEARLY NOT HAD IN N OUT IF THEY THINK WHITE CASTLE IS BETTER.  It was good, but...it wasn't In N Out. n Sorry, White Castle.  You were pwned.

(Fact: the Olive Garden has NOTHING on Carrabba's.  But as those restaurants are not nearly as bad for you as a burger joint, I'm not nearly as passionate about it.)

HELP! Lisa's going to convince me to pierce my EARS!

Not only that, but...

I have red hair. Again.  But this time, it was NOT deliberate.

Stew on THAT.

On the Gabe front, as of yesterday, his current tooth count is now FOUR.  As per his normal modus operandi, he cut the two newbies (the top beaver teeth, you can thank Jon for that technical term) within 24 hours of each other.  Also, he started crawling AND creeping on the same day, but will only crawl when forced.  It's like he knows its a temporary thing and is unwilling to waste time on it.  Also, Jon laughs nonstop about how much he works like me:  nothing, nothing, nothing...FINE!!! I guess I'll do it! TA DA!

I'll post more when I'm safely back in Utah (and in possession of my camera cord).

I showered with a stormtrooper

Ethan took this at Lisa's wedding.  I love the eyes, but there must be

 something wrong with them.  They're just too big.  [snort]

I'm going to miss this while they are with

their mother for the summer.

The drama.

The emotion.

The ravioli stains on the laundry.

We must really love mustard, and lots of it.

I'm here to tell you that stormtroopers are about exactly the same color as my dirty tub.  They are especially fun to step on when, for example, you don't have your contacts in and it's early in the morning.  I complain, but next week, I'll be missing this, too.

Remember that really big hill from when you were a kid, the one you were scared to rollerskate/ride you bike down, and then when you finally did, you felt like the king of the world, and then you saw the very same hill when you were older and couldn't figure out what the fuss was about?  Here's Ethan's:

He'll see this picture when he's older and SWEAR that the water slide was bigger and steeper. 

Although, his hill is definitely steeper than mine was (which happened to be the hill on St. Andrews.  My parents probably don't even realize that street HAD a hill.  IT DID!  when I was 12)

OK, Ethan is pretty brave for that.  I wouldn't go on it.

Heard around the house...

Elijah:  Can I beat up a duck?

Jon:  Why would you want to beat up a duck?

Elijah:  What if it's 40 feet tall and all {snort, hiss, snarl, stomp}?

Jon: If you see a mutant deathduck, you can beat it up.

Ethan:  Meegan, did you know that when I'm a teenager, I'll have air in my head?

Meegan:  You mean you're going to be an airhead?

Eljah:  BFI, put your hands in the air!  I mean, FBI, put your hands in the air!

Gabriel:  click, coo, coo, click, coo, squeal, click (I think Gabriel thinks he's a member of some African tribe.)

As you were.

The 2010 guide to stuff you need at Lake Powell

When I was young, carefree, and much more fun than I am now, I used to go camping a lot.  In fact, I was once paid to camp for an ENTIRE SUMMER.  I can count the number of times I showered that summer on my fingers, and I didn't get paid a lot, but it will forever be my FAVORITE JOB EVER.  So, I know what you need to go camping.  Stuff like a sweatshirt, rain gear, a flashlight, and maybe a pillow.  I am not a camping neophyte.  However, for the 2010 camping season, I scrapped all of that garbage and, instead, brought stuff that is way more helpful when you decide to take an infant camping.  Here is my new and improved list of camping essentials:

1.  A reason to go camping.  Weddings and camping go together, right?  They do now.  Thanks to Lisa and Jim, I finally went to Lake Powell for the first time in YEARS.

2.  A brother-in-law who is capable of killing the rattlesnakes in camp.  I'm pretty sure that Jim can also do that cool move from KungFu Panda where you kill someone with their own pinky finger, so Jim is now my permanent favorite brother-in-law, at least as far as he knows.  Please note his young daughter petting the rattlesnake corpse.  Heh heh heh.

3.  A sister who is willing to set up your tent for you when your baby is unwilling to let go of you.  It's especially helpful if that sister ALSO has helper monkeys and a thoughtful husband. (Check out Callie.  I'm pretty sure she's trying to go to McDonald's.)

4.  A brother-in-law who can talk you out of your stubborn pride and into a motel room when the weather is miserable and your baby is freaking out.  Also, a sister who will give you a sucker to help entertain your freaking out baby in the car.

5.  A sister and brother-in-law with an extra bed in their motel room who don't mind you bringing a freaking out baby into said room, even though their own kids (including a baby) are already settled down.

6.  A brother who will drive while you attend to a freaking out baby and go easy on your nerves by driving insanely slowly (as requested) and not take it personally when you back seat drive and/or overreact to cars on the horizon braking.  I think I'm responsible for the look on his face...

7.  Parents with a motorhome and, specifically, a microwave, so you don't have to bother with a pesky campfire when it's time to cook the hotdogs.

8.  A baby sister and brother-in-law who not only thought that a flashlight might be helpful when camping, but who EACH thought to bring one...and were willing to let me have one the night I actually attempted to camp (instead of mooch off of my sister in a motel room)

9.  A really big car to sleep in when it became apparent that I couldn't take care of my freaking out baby in a tent with a low ceiling.  Comfy.

10.  A cello to make sure it rained during the wedding ceremony (because string instruments and rain are a BAD combination, even more problematic than camping and trying to look presentable for a wedding.)

11.  An underwater camera.

That's pretty much it.  It's the definitive list of essential camping gear.  I wouldn't have survived with out it. 

 However, I haven't mentioned the ONE THING that you HAVE TO HAVE when camping with an infant.

YOUR HUSBAND.

I left him at home.  Big mistake. 

HAXXED!

This is Jon and I've haxxed my wife account to bring you news that she is too embarrassed to talk about. First is based off these two pics.

Yup, that's a sign that says "Parking Entrance" at the base of our drive. "But what the big deal, Jon," you might be asking? If you are LDS you might notice the style of of said sign. "Ah," you are now remarking to yourself, "I see. No wait, I don't. What's the big deal?"

Some of you might know my wife and know that she is a little up tight. Her first reaction was that someone would drive by and call the cops that we stole the Logan Temple parking sign (we do live on the main thoroughfare to said Temple). Now I know I didn't steal the sign, but rather found it as her and I were cleaning the garage yesterday. So I know the sign belongs to the house and we didn't steal it. I also know the Church uses a new font and this is an old font sign. We're safe.

I also think its pretty witty and its been up 24 hours and no cops have come nor have any college students or Temple Patrons parked in the driveway yet. She's still having kittens though...

Along with the witty sign, I have come up with a new game to play in sacrament meeting. Today was Fast and Testimony meeting (or as I call it Starve and Tell Your Story). Normally this meeting drives me crazy and I feign sickness on the first Sunday of every month. I have been trying to be better about my attendance so I usually ending up playing WoW in my head for an hour. I do get  points from God though cuz I'm at least in the building. Anyways, I have found a way to keep both adults entertained during the meeting and found a way to get kids to listen to the 20 minute long sermon from Sister Bertha who doesn't remember what day it is but does remember when Brigham Young taught her how to herd sheep in Illinois.

TESTIMONY BINGO! (copyright coming soon)

Listen for these key phrases and fill in your bingo card. The first to do so gets a double scoop of Green Jello with carrots when the family gets home

The center square is always "I'd like to bear my testimony"

Other mormonisms I have come up with include:

My heart is full, with every fiber of my being, my heart leap within me, I'm normally not so emotional, It's a privilege to stand before you, I love my (insert family, roomates, brothers and sisters, etc) so much, I want to let my (insert family, roomates, brothers and sisters, etc) know that I, I am so grateful that I don't belong to (insert any other sect), I know this church is true no matter what (ward, country, continent) you're in, I'm not sure I'm in this ward or not, I'm just visiting this ward, I told myself I'm wasn't going to do this today, and I love all of you so much.

I heard all of these today but I'm sure there are more. So let's hear them from you and list some in the comments. I'm also thinking of expanding the game for college single wards too!

If I had three wishes...

Tomorrow is the last day of school, and I have to say...it's WEIRD that I'm not more excited.  There's something about actually being at school--either as a teacher or a student--that REALLY ups the excitement level on the last day of school.

As a part of the end-of-the-year festivities, we FINALLY got the books that the boys wrote.  TANGENT:  the books were written and paid for back in DECEMBER.  However, the ruddy checks didn't clear until two weeks ago.  Am I the only one for whom that spells disaster?  Not to mention irritating surprises when I check my account balance.  Some day I'll grow up and actually USE the accounting software that's sitting right there on my desktop...

Ahem.  End tangent.

Ethan's book is a solo effort that can be described as Harry Potter meets Percy Jackson meets Interdimensional Warping of Reality.  It truly belongs on the New York Times Bestseller list.

Elijah's, on the other hand, belongs in an anthropology textbook.  Maybe sociology.  Definitely psychology.  His is a class effort with each student contributing a page about what they would wish for if they had three wishes.

It's VERY interesting reading.  Also, hysterical.  Here are some excerpts:


"My first wish is for peace so no one would be at war.  My second wish is for $10,000 to buy games.  My third is that I can fly because I could see almost everything."  --Elijah

Elijah, buddy, even if you had $10,000 worth of games--which I'm assuming would be of the video genre--that doesn't mean you get extra time in front of the glowy box.  Sorry.  Love, your evil stepmother.

"My first wish is to [be] invisible.  My second wish is to be able to read minds.  My third wish is to be able to fly."  --B.


This kid has definitely read about the genie in a bottle's little tricks and isn't going to risk any misinterpretation of his wish to be a super hero.  Way to think analytically, B!  You are the future of America!

There were some common threads--the girls generally wanted to be a butterfly, live in a castle, and have lots of dresses/be a princess.  The boys wanted Goosebumps books, superpowers, and a PSP 3.  There were, however, a few standouts:

The kid I call Master Chief  because he beat me at a math game (and that was the prize--me calling him Master Chief for the rest of time) comes off as a punk.  However, he wants to be a pilot and an excellent reader who is very smart.  I hope manages to beat the odds, because they are stacked against him, and not on the intelligence front.

The little kid in the class who is quiet and unobtrusive has perfected the art of writing his name as if it were a graffiti tag.  I hope that's not a sign.

The little kid who is an immigrant and a member of probably the most distrusted ethnic group in America right now just wants a friend and to fit in.  I'm sorry, I don't care where you're from or what your religion is.  Little kids deserve to be little kids, and that breaks my heart.

OK, I'm about to start ranting and need to wrap this up.  I want to pass on one last gem:

"My first wish is to be a giant burrito.  My second wish is that I could control the plane.  My third wish is that I could control the sun."  --T.

T, you best stay away from the Alfreds.  We love a good, giant burrito.

Incidentally, if I had three wishes, they would be:

1.  A remote that works on children.  It only needs two functions:  volume control and sleep.
2.  Samantha Stevens' ability to snap her fingers and teleport ANYWHERE.  I'd go to Lake Powell and Disneyland A LOT more.  Not to mention see my family more.
3.  A full-service maid.

Peace.

My appliances are out to get me

First it was my oven.

And the hot water heater (which is impossible to set at a lower setting) has been an on-going issue.

Now it's the dryer.

It tried to kill me.

I even had to call 911.

This picture doesn't really do it justice, though.  There were three (3) full-sized fire trucks, an ambulance, a motorcycle cop, a regular police car, and two smaller fire trucks.

Let me tell you, I feel safe here, especially now that my dryer is dead.  If only for the emergency response teams, I LOVE this town now.  (shocking confession:  even the weather has grown on me)

In a nutshell, I had just got off the phone with Jon when I heard a really suspicious and ominous noise coming from the dryer.  (SEE?  Housework CAN kill you!!!!)  Being a moron, I picked up Gabriel and went to see what the problem was.  Note to self:  next time there is an ominous noise in the house, DON'T TAKE THE BABY WITH when you investigate. 

The problem was that my dryer was apparently possessed by Gildar, the smoke and spark fire demon.  There were curtains of sparks shooting out the back of the dryer, and because it was BEHIND the dryer, the whole show was lit up against the wood-paneled wall like a firework display.   And let me tell you, sparks and the smoke they produce do NOT smell comforting.  So NOT like a campfire.

I grabbed my phone and ran for the hills.  Maybe I'm not brave, but I didn't even TRY to see what was causing it.  I just called 911 and hoped the sparks weren't catching onto the piles of kindling (dirty clothes CAN kill you!) and the dryer-lint-filled trash can nearby.

This was one heck of a learning experience, though.  This is what I learned:

1.  Our local response teams are QUICK.

2.  When told to evacuate a house after seeing my dryer come alive and try to kill me, I really didn't care about ANYTHING in the house except Gabriel.  If the boys had been at home, they would be on the list, too, but...sad admission...if things had gotten more serious the dogs wouldn't have survived.  Now, removed from it, I feel guilty about that, but at the time...not so much.  I didn't even grab my purse. 

3.  I really need to make a list of valuables in case we ever actually have to make an insurance claim.

4.  Druggie neighbors scatter when sirens roll up in front of their house.  (tangent:  our new neighbors hold raging keggers FREQUENTLY.  Jon finally lost his patience and went over at three in the morning to ask them to tone it down, only to find them all totally high.  He came back smelling like pot, which--let me tell you--started an interesting late-night conversation because I didn't even realize he left the house.)

5.  "There is no such thing as coincidence--only small miracles God doesn't take credit for." I was supposed to be grocery shopping, but got sidetracked.  I can't imagine what would have happened if I hadn't been here--or even upstairs, where I couldn't hear the noise.  Today goes on the list of times the Lord was watching out for me and mine--even though when push came to shove I didn't care about the STUFF, I'm glad I don't have to worry about buying new clothes for the boys.

6.  Have I mentioned I'm grateful that I was protected?  This could have ended A LOT worse--I'm just out a dryer and the house smells like acrid electical fire.  It didn't even spread from the dryer onto the piles of adjacent kindling or into the wall.  BLESSED, I TELL YOU!!!!!!

And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go eat a cake.  'Cause the adrenaline is wearing off and I'm a textbook comfort eater.