I've Been Tagged!

I've been tagged by two different people for two different things, so I think I'll put them both in one post.

First of all, Amyjane tagged me with this unusual one about books.

* Find the nearest book to you.
* Name the book and author.
* Turn to page 123.
* Go to the fifth sentence on the page.
* Copy out the next 3 sentences and post to your blog.
* Tag someone else.

Unfortunately, I'm in the midst of wild thesis writing and am not currently reading anything for fun at all. Just boring books, like:

Contemporary Spanish Film From Fiction by Thomas Deveny
"Nevertheless, Juanita, Carlos's lover and a member of the troupe, succinctly captures their misery with the lament, "Tengo hambre, Carlos" (I'm hungry Carlos). She later complains "Esto no es un oficio, Carlos. Somos vagabundos" (This is not an occupation, Carlos. We're bums.), and says that people prefer the movies, and she does too. Ironically, she abandons Carlos "with somebody from the movies" in order to work at a bar in Rota (where there are American sailors with money), and this is the first in a series of death blows to both the troupe and Carlos."

After Babel by George Steiner
"This stratum would, under stress of generation and reciprocal stimulus (French coming in from the outside), 'fold upward' and become the momentary surface, the visible contour of the mental terrain. When I reverted to German or English, an analogous process would occur. But with each linguistic shift or 'new folding', the underlying stratification has, in some measure, altered"

I don't think I quite understand the appeal of this...

I also got tagged by JB to share six things about myself. This is cool, because even though I already revealed one hundred facts, I'm narcissistic enough to think of six more:

1. I hate folding laundry and I'm really bad at it. I just wad things up and shove them in drawers. Which is OK because S-Boogie and Little Dude's dresser is broken and one of the drawers has been sitting on top for several months now so it's even easier to shove the wadded up clothes in there. I also don't like to iron and Master Fob usually wears wrinkled shirts because he doesn't have time for ironing anymore.
2. I'm bad at parking my car, and parking makes me get panicky and embarrassed. The other week I broke down crying in the library parking lot because they have horrible, narrow spots on an incline and when I was trying to get into one my tire banged in the curb and this entire family standing on the sidewalk all stopped and stared at me trying to park. Whew!
3. My hair is definitely not wash-and-wear and I'm self-conscious about it. It holds a lot of water, for one thing. When it was long, I'd put it up in a bun and it would still be dripping wet at the end of the day. Now that it's short I have to blow dry it every morning and I feel embarrassed about always bringing my blow dryer along when I go on trips. But if I don't do my hair I feel ugly. And if I don't wash it every day it gets greasy and I feel ugly.
4. I think of numbers or calendar items on a continual line in my brain and when I'm trying to add or figure out what date came first, I just scoot things around. It's hard to explain.
5. I'm really good at remembering facts about people, so I feel like a stalker when I meet someone for the second time and I remember everything about them and they don't remember anything about me.
6. I won an award from the Rotary club for being the best student/citizen in my eighth-grade graduating class. I got some money and I had to give a speech at graduation. I'm still proud of this award because it was something teachers nominated you for and I feel humbled that enough people noticed me and thought I was a good person to give an award to. I was also voted "most friendly" by my class and I still have the teddy bear they gave me as an award.

I'm not going to tag anyone with these, but they're welcome to try them out. Oh, and you should read all about my mom and my sister because they are even cooler than me!

Dearest Little Dude

We are quite proud of your new ability to stand up and understand that it is very exciting for you too. Your crib really is a wonderful place to practice this new trick, since it has a nice rail at the perfect height for holding on to. It's even pretty cute that you delight so much in standing up and rocking the crib so it bangs against the wall.

However, three o'clock in the morning is not the time to practice this new trick. Do you remember a few weeks ago when you learned to lie down quietly in your crib and fall asleep all by yourself? We really liked that trick a lot. It did not include any standing up, spitting your pacifier across the room, and wailing because you don't know how to get down and back to sleep. So, please, let's save the standing up for daytime hours so Mommy and Daddy can get some sleep and you can too. Otherwise we may have to sell you to the circus.

Go Crepes Go

We have decided to still go on our wild and crazy adventure for spring break, which will include driving to San Francisco, then to Orem, then back up to Seattle. With two small children in the backseat. Because we're insane, that's why.

I haven't been all that excited about this trip (see above). Then I decided to Google one of my favorite restaurants in Berkeley. I remember this place fondly from many College Bowl trips down there. And they're still open and still serving crepes! I'm already trying to decide between ham, egg and cheddar or smoked turkey with avocado and bacon. Mmmm.... Even better, guess what's just around the corner? I think that Master Fob and Thmazing can go have fun while Lady Steed and I eat our crepes. I guess some things are worth driving twelve hours for after all.

Thoughts from Sunday

Arrive at church late, even though I woke up quite early. Instead of jumping in the shower right away I lounged on the internet reading NY Times Sunday content. Because I am mad at myself I arrive at church in a bad mood.

Spend most of sacrament meeting alternating between feeling really nauseated by the strong smell of cigarette smoke coming from the person in front of me and feeling really bad about not wanting to sit by them ever again.

Laugh at the newly married guy who confesses that the recent fireside he and his wife attended was "the first Institute activity I ever went to where I wasn't checking out girls." Just about as funny as the poor guy in our last ward who told the entire ward he got his wife pregnant on their wedding night.

Reflect on the fact that even though this guy and his wife both just got married at 28 and that's not all that old by worldly standards, they're probably both now really relieved because that's a long time to wait by Mormon standards.

Make a somewhat rude remark in an effort to play down Master Fob's attempt to complement me in Sunday School class. Feel bad for quashing his good intentions with my need to draw negative attention to myself.

Decide I enjoy small Sunday School classes the most, especially when they are not Gospel Doctrine. When we lived in Wymount we were ward missionaries, which mainly involved holding a small Gospel Principles class with a few other couples in the ward. I love small class settings like that where you generally get the same people to participate with. Right now we're in a Family Relations class led by the bishop's wife and I'm really enjoying it. I didn't mind Gospel Doctrine, but I like this class quite a lot.

Feel dumb in Relief Society after realizing that I gave the same long-winded comment a few months ago in a similar lesson.

After Relief Society feel a little weird when a sister asks how I am doing and I respond with a big spiel about my thesis. Thankfully she's genuinely interested and knows what I'm talking about, and agrees that Pan's Labyrinth is an excellent movie. She also loves Pedro Almodovar, and I'm too embarrassed to confess that I have yet to see any of his movies for fear of things like transvestite nuns and oversize vaginas (at least that's only in one movie and we aren't planning to watch that one).

Wonder if everyone else goes home from church feeling half spiritually well-fed and half emotionally exhausted from dealing with the social intricacies of Church membership.

Feeling Martha-ish

As I'm sure you might have figured out, I don't read any decorating magazines or even attempt to fancy up my house (for example, I think a cardboard box makes a great living room accessory). But I did see a fun idea for decorating with kids' artwork a little while ago and decided to try it out. Especially since it was so easy: two thumbtacks, a piece of twine, and these adorable mini clothespins I found at Storeables:

Then this morning I slaved over a hot stove and produced two fabulosas tortillas espanolas for our ward's International Dinner:



Since that wasn't enough slaving, I let S-Boogie talk me into making a cake in honor of her grandma's birthday yesterday. She voted for chocolate cupcakes with vanilla frosting and sprinkles and had a great time helping me make and eat them.



(You can see that we tried putting cinnamon heart candies on one of the cupcakes, but S-Boogie decided they were "too spicy" so we switched to sprinkles).

I love cooking and organizing and all that, but now I'm ready for a break!

The sun came out today

First of all, thanks to everyone for your kind and encouraging comments. I actually feel better now that I got a lot of that off ugly, negative crap out of my head. Now I just need to remind myself next time I start freaking out: "You already said this. There's not anything else you can do." We are still coming to Utah for a week during our spring break. We thought we would have nearly three weeks off due to a lack of finals and such, but the fact that Master Fob is still employed has changed our plans a bit. We love the fact that he still has a job and that we still have steady income until June, but I think both of us really need a vacation. I'm so looking forward to the day when school is done and he just has one job, hopefully one with vacation time and reasonable hours. For example, our "holiday" weekend included Master Fob going to class all day on Saturday, working Sunday night, and working Monday afternoon. Sigh.

But, I am taking action to get this thesis out of my life. My new goal is to have a complete rough draft finished by the time we go to Utah in mid-March. That really only gives me about three weeks to do it, but I think I can. My introduction is written and I'm about halfway through the first chapter. I also have an outline and ideas for a conclusion, it's just the second chapter that is still completely untouched. Last night I sent an email out to the ward Relief Society list (something I love, by the way) asking for a temporary babysitter for Little Dude. I've already gotten two responses this morning, so now I just have to decide who to turn down. I think I'm going to go with the one who lives right here in my complex and already has a little girl who is almost two years old. I feel bad because the other one came from a girl (why can't I say "woman" when we're both nearly 29 years old??) who just got married and moved into the ward. She's been looking for a job and I know she's kind of lonely. But she doesn't live that close and I don't think her house is very baby proof. I suppose I could have her come over here, but my apartment is tiny and that might be weird. Maybe I'll keep her as backup. Anyways, I'm rambling. I really should be off doing research or something since Little Dude is sleeping and S-Boogie is busy roaming the house destroying things with her broom.

The shoulds

I woke up this morning feeling shaky, both physically and mentally. It's probably related to the vagaries of my monthly cycle, but it's still hard to deal with. Also, editorgirl's post today really hit a sore spot for me. I'm getting really tired of my thesis ruling my life and making me feel totally worthless and incompetent. I know that isn't rational, but I'm not feeling very rational today. I feel that same fear, that I really can't write a thesis and that this proves that I never should have attended grad school in the first place. I'm tired of feeling the weight of all the wrong choices I've made and all the things I should have done. I should have been planning on grad school before finishing my undergrad and gotten more of the prerequisites out of the way. I should have jumped on my thesis idea right away, done the research, and written my prospectus before the end of my first year. I shouldn't have panicked and dropped my classes that one summer term. I shouldn't have had a baby before I was done. I shouldn't have moved to another state before I was done. I shouldn't have started grad school before my husband was finished with school. I should have read and studied in-depth all the books on my reading list instead of assuming I could fake it. I should have gotten to know more of the professors, especially those with real clout in the department. I should have chosen a different thesis topic. I should have participated more in extra-curricular activities. I shouldn't have gone to grad school if I couldn't finish in two years. I shouldn't have gone to grad school if I wasn't willing to give the department my heart and soul. And so on... I know that some of these things aren't neccessarily true or they don't matter, but I can't make myself feel that they don't matter. I just wish someone would say "yes it's hard and yes you made some mistakes, but you're still a good person". Or, "When I was in grad school I felt lost and incompetent too" or even "Hey, I remember back when I still had trouble remembering all the terms for Spanish poetry". All I ever seem to get is questions about why I'm not doing a better job or why I just can't do things according to the schedule or the proper paradigm. This probably sounds whiny, but I just feel like whining today. Hopefully tomorrow I will be able to stop whining and get my brain in gear.

100 Fascinating Facts about FoxyJ

1. I broke my left wrist twice while I was growing up.

2. I don't get grossed out by very many things, but other people's spit makes me want to gag. I can't be in the bathroom when someone else is brushing their teeth because I want to throw up.

3. I didn't like Oreos until I was in college.

4. I don't like strong cheeses, pesto sauce, or raw onion.

5. I also don't like sushi or most Japanese food because I can't stand the taste of nori (seaweed).

6. I have never skipped school.

7. I've never been to a BYU football game.

8. My parents didn't have a television until I was about eight years old.

9. I used to be a card-carrying member of The American Cetacean Society .

10. I've never seen Newsies, Annie, or Anne of Green Gables.

11. I met Chuck Woolery when I was 12 and he gave me some fake money from Scrabble.

12. I have a widow's peak.

13. When I was in high school I grew out my bangs, but because of the widow's peak a small section right in front was shorter than the rest. For some reason I decided to shave it off. It looked really weird while it was growing back in and one of my friends called me "Spike".

14. I tried out for the drill team before my freshman year of high school, but the other girls were totally mean to me and I quit tryouts after a few days.

15. I ended up joining the Knowledge Bowl and Geography Bowl teams instead.

16. My junior year of high school I was on the Academic Decathalon team but quit because the competition was the same day as the tryouts for Teen Jeopardy! I didn't pass the tryouts.

17. I had to read Arrowsmith by Sinclair Lewis for Academic Decathalon and it's still one of my favorite books.

18. I tried to read Jesus the Christ when I was six, but I didn't get very far.

19. When I was a missionary I read Jesus the Christ in Spanish.

20. I took two years of Italian at BYU before my mission, but any time I try to speak it only Spanish comes out.

21. I love anything lemon, chocolate, or ginger flavored.

22. I think I have read the Book of Mormon about twenty times, but I'm not really sure. I do know I've read it a lot of times. I read it five times in Spanish while on my mission.

23. I love sour gummy candies.

24. When I was in the MTC my district and I got to fly to Los Angeles for the day to pick up our visas from the Spanish consulate. We also went on a driving tour of LA and stopped by the temple visitor's center and ate at In-N-Out.

25. I don't like to eat big breakfasts.

26. I love hot cereals like oatmeal or Cream of Wheat, but I have to let them cool to lukewarm before I eat them.

27. I can't go to sleep at night unless all the closets, drawers, and cupboards in the house are shut.

28. I have a bad habit of kicking dirt and dropped food under the stove or fridge instead of cleaning it up.

29. I hate ironing, washing the dishes, and cleaning the bathroom.

30. I like to do counted cross stitch.

31. I don't know how to knit or crochet.

32. I said the opening prayer at a BYU forum.

33. I wanted to be a marine biologist when I grew up.

34. I made plans to run away to Alaska when I was 12, but I didn't know what to do about my paper route so I didn't go.

35. I never wear any jewelry besides my wedding ring and watch.

36. I only own one purse.

37. Grover is my favorite Sesame Street character.

38. I rode a sheep bareback in the rodeo when I was six. I fell off and got run over by the other sheep.

39. I have gone swimming in both the Pacific Ocean and the Atlantic Ocean.

40. I wore shorts to school every single day of my freshman year of high school.

41. I've never dyed or highlighted my hair.

42. I use Nair on my upper lip.

43. I took ballet lessons at "Miss Bunny's School of Dance".

44. I cried when I saw An American Tail in the theater. I was 9 years old.

45. I failed intermediate level swimming lessons four times.

46. My teeth chatter violently when I get cold.

47. My favorite type of yogurt is plain, whole-milk with a bit of sugar or honey stirred in.

48. I have some blind spots in both my eyes caused by calcium deposits on the optic nerves.

49. I have been published in Irreantum.

50. I love pastries of any kind, especially cream cheese danish and chocolate-filled croissants.

51. I always pick the pecans out of the can of mixed nuts and eat them first.

52. I have owned the same pair of Birkenstocks since I was fifteen.

53. I currently don't own any high heels.

54. The only toothpaste I like is Arm & Hammer baking soda

55. I love lemon-scented cleaning products.

56. I like the smell of coffee and I love mocha flavored things, especially Jamocha Almond Fudge ice cream.

57. I worked at Taco Bell during high school and I still don't like the smell very much. I do like their food still, especially nachos.

58. I love to eat deep-fried foods.

59. Once, on my mission, my companion and I broke into the elders' apartment and put maxi pads in their beds.

60. They got back at us by breaking into our apartment and taking everything we owned (even furniture) and cramming it into our little enclosed balcony area.

61. I took a years supply of sanitary products with me on my mission.

62. I actually liked the food in the MTC and ate an ice cream bar every day with my lunch.

63. I generally don't like to play sports, but I can really get into a good game of basketball when I'm feeling stressed.

64. I love water skiing but I'm too scared to try downhill skiing.

65. I will only eat a banana if it has peanut butter on it or if it has been dipped in chocolate.

66. I waited in line for nearly four hours to get into a Vermeer exhibit at the National Gallery of Art.

67. When I was a kid I wrote a letter to Ronald Reagan inviting him to dinner at my house. The only reply I got was a nice book about the White House.

68. I got to go on a helicopter tour of Ventura County as a reward for winning the Geography Bowl.

69. I got a perfect score on the reading section of the ACT and a perfect score on the verbal section of the GRE. I failed the math parts of both tests miserably.

70. I always keep our budget perfectly balanced and I know where all our money goes each month.

71. I read the New York Times, the LA Times, and the Salt Lake Tribune online every day.

72. I used to have to read the obituaries for my job (when I worked for the Marriott School Alumni Office).

73. I still like to read the obituaries.

74. I weighed 10 pounds when I was born.

75. I was born at home in my family's living room.

76. According to the color code, my personality is pretty evenly split between white and blue.

77. According to Peircian triangles, I fall somewhere around blue, green, or purple.

78. I sucked my thumb until I was 9 years old.

79. I wore braces for three years.

80. I don't really like Ben and Jerry's that much, but I love Haagen Daz.

81. I had a collection of 63 My Little Ponies and I played with them until I was nearly 13.

82. I had pet rats for most of life until I went to college.

83. I would love to have a pet rat or a bird right now. Or a big friendly dog.

84. I love the smell of warm alfalfa fields.

85. I have been inside the Salt Lake, Manti, Saint George, Provo, Mt. Timpanogos, Bountiful, Washington D.C., Albuquerque, Laie (HI), San Diego, and Madrid temples.

86. I don't care about having hairy legs when I go to the pool or the beach.

87. I like wearing board shorts or wearing a suit with a skirt so I don't have to shave my bikini line.

88. I have been to several real-life castles.

89. I've visited Francisco Franco's grave.

90. I have an old horseshoe that I found in a rut of the Oregon Trail.

91. I also have a moose antler that I found while on a trail ride in the Tetons.

92. I hate the taste of bubble gum.

93. I chew my finger nails.

94. I check my email obsessively throughout the day, but I'm really bad about writing back to people. Sorry!

95. When I was on my mission I had an invisible pet bullfrog named Mr. Sparky. When I would burp really loudly I'd blame the noise on him. Some of my companions didn't think that was as funny as I did.

96. I like to read books about true crime and forensic science and I love watching CSI and Law & Order.

97. I hate artificial plants. I'd rather spend the money on real flowers.

98. I always comment a lot during Relief Society and Sunday School lessons.

99. I hate fasting. It's one of those things that I really struggle with and don't have much of a testimony of yet.

100. It took me almost a week to write this post!

Some days are not as good as others

This afternoon I was getting ready to go to the store and realized that our little shopping cart was no longer sitting on our porch where Master Fob had left it last week. I know that it's foolish to leave such a valuable and necessary item sitting out tempting people to take it, but I didn't think anyone would really do it. Well, someone out there really is that rude. Because I needed to get milk I ended up taking the shopping cart home from the store with me. I took it right back, but I still felt trashy doing that.

Then I started cooking dinner and realized that I had forgotten to buy brown rice, a key ingredient in tonight's "Middle Eastern lentils and rice" (it's actually quite tasty). S-Boogie was feeling restless, so she got her rain gear out and accompanied me to the store to get a bag of rice.

Once dinner was in the oven I started to make the salad. When I opened the fridge I couldn't find the bag of salad that I'd put in there last night. I was beginning to think I was truly going crazy until Master Fob opened the freezer and there it was. Brilliant.

And I can't even go drown my sorrows with ice cream because today is a "no treat day". I'm discovering that I really should have one week out of the month that is "mommy needs treats or she'll bite your head off" week. But that wouldn't be good for my diet now, would it?

Happy Valen-times

After a flurry of posting last week things have slowed down a bit. This week has been rather boring so far. Little Dude is feeling completely better from his ear infection, though the antibiotic has given him a touch of diarrhea and diaper rash. This isn't a good combo with his inability to lie on his back for more than thirty seconds at a time and I've spent way too much time wrestling a dirty, stinky baby lately. I also managed to develop a weird rash due to my overzealous application of prescription-strength cortisone cream. But it's feeling much better and I've learned to read the side effects carefully before using prescriptions.

S-Boogie got to attend her first ever Valentine's party at school this afternoon. The kids ran around and ate cookies while the parents stood around and talked. I was feeling exhausted from staying up too late last night and from a long afternoon without Master Fob, and I don't really know any of the parents yet. Plus they intimidate me; for some reason I'm paranoid that they'll find out I'm just a 28 year old college student who is poor as dirt. Some of them probably are in the same boat too, so I don't know why I feel so awkward about it. But I did talk to one lady who was very nice, so I guess any differences between me and the other parents really aren't all that big. S-Boogie brought home a bunch of little cards and candy and has been in love with Valentine's day for the entire day today. It's fun to see how excited she gets about holidays, especially since I've become rather jaded about the commercial aspects of them.

Speaking of commercial aspects, Master Fob and I broke with tradition and actually bought each other gifts this year. He got me a box of chocolates for the first time ever--I don't know if I like the plush red velvet covering more or the fact that it's filled with Dove truffles. I knew he had bought me a present so yesterday I bought him a book he's been wanting to read. We also went out to a movie last night. And we even bought popcorn, which was a total waste of money. I love movie popcorn and can hardly resist the smell when I walk into the theater. Usually I can resist the prices, but last night we splurged since we only go out to the movies once or twice a year these days. I just felt bad because we got a "medium" bag that turned out to be enormous and I only ate half of it. The movie was really good and quite powerful, but the violence in it was rather graphic and traumatized Master Fob. It covered a lot of themes that I'm working on for my thesis (which is on literature and film about the Spanish Civil War), so it was good to go see it and ruminate on a lot of issues it raised.

And Master Fob got to celebrate this holiday by working from 9 this morning until 10 at night (at two different jobs at least). So even if I had a long afternoon with two little kids, it still wasn't that bad. I think my brain is feeling better because I am now able to see that and feel bad for him, instead of just worrying about my own problems. That's progress.

Much Rejoicing

Master Fob has spent this quarter working for the admissions office reading applications. This has been a great job not just for the flexible hours and good pay, but also because they pay his tuition for him. Unfortunately, it was just for this quarter and then we didn't have a plan beyond that point. He just emailed me to say that they want him to come back next quarter to read transfer applications. Such a wonderful blessing! One of the things I admire most about Master Fob is that he works hard and works well at whatever job he has. During our entire relationship he's always managed to have at least one or two good jobs. I've noticed that he always makes a good impression and we've been blessed for it. He's sincere, dedicated, smart, and just a nice guy.

This does, however, probably change our plans a bit. We have been tentatively planning a big road trip for the entire two weeks of spring break, which would involve us visiting San Francisco, Las Vegas and Utah. However, Master Fob will probably need to be here for part of that time for job-related things. Perhaps we will have to take a smaller trip somewhere, and perhaps it will involve some flying rather than driving. Utah looks like the cheapest option for flying, so we'll have to see what we come up with. I need to come down to Utah some time during the next month or so to defend my thesis (assuming it's done). One idea I have is coming by myself with the kids for the week starting March 26th. Master Fob starts school that day, but BYU is sponsoring a week long mini-course with one of my favorite authors from Spain and I would love to be there for it. I'm not a big fan of vacationing without him, but we have fun people to stay with so I think I'd be OK. Of course, I probably wouldn't be quite so much fun as a visitor if I'm gone to BYU every evening for two hours, but they just want to see my kids. So stay tuned as plans develop. I'm determined to go somewhere for spring break.

And of course, the thesis. I have actually started writing it, believe it or not. The other morning Master Fob didn't have to work so I cranked out 10 pages of extremely rough draft. It's been hard because I don't like to write as much as I like to research and I've been really psyched out by the whole thing. I keep telling myself that I can do it, and the fact that part of it is now written down is starting to calm my fears. I have an outline for the first chapter and now about half is written down. The second chapter is also in semi-finished rough draft form, and then I have to write the third chapter and conclusion. Think I can get that done during the next three or four weeks?

Frustration

Yesterday afternoon we filed our Federal taxes online (did you know that Washington has no state income tax? another good reason to live here). This morning we got email notification that our return had been rejected because my birth date does not match what the Social Security people have for me. This is the third year this has happened. The first time I called someone to try and find out what was going on. Apparently when I changed my name after getting married someone hit the wrong key and managed to change my birthday as well. The guy on the phone refused to tell me what they thought my birthday was, but when I told him what it really is he said they didn't match. We decided to just mail in our return (they need them to match when you're doing it online). Last year I finally got around to going down to the Social Security office and filling out their paperwork. We successfully filed online. Apparently something didn't work because it's not happening this year. The problem is, I can't remember what we did last year. I kind of remember being stupid and changing the date on my return to what the nice lady at the office told me was the false one. Because otherwise we would have had to wait a month for the change to happen before filing online. But if I did that, that was probably a bad idea because now the IRS seems to be confused. I guess we'll just mail it in and I'll get on the phone and try to figure out this whole mess. I hope it's not really my fault and just some dumb bureaucratic error.

Oh, and last year we spent 28 percent of our income on medical expenses. Which is even worse than the year before. I'm pretty sure we will be able to avoid that this year. And at least Little Dude is paying off his costs by providing us with hefty tax credits.

Thank you Mister Postman!

I love checking the mail. I never know what kind of fun surprises will be in there to brighten my day. What I really hate, though, is when I'm expecting something to come and it seems to take forever to show up. Today was a very happy day because our mailbox finally delivered some fabulous things:

The last W2 we need for filing our taxes.

Official notification that S-Boogie and Little Dude are switched back to the HMO that covers their doctor. They got switched for a month or so and were assigned to a clinic across town. Um, no thank you.

Insurance card for me and official paperwork. Now I can file a claim for our counseling sessions and get some of our money back. Yay!

New buckle for the baby backpack I got off craigslist the other week. Double yay!

And a thank-you card from Bawb and Ambrosia. It's nice when people are thoughtful like that.

I think I'm going to go make some cookies, so that when Master Fob gets home we can file our taxes online and eat warm chocolate chip cookies at the same time. Mmm...

Link-O-Rama!

I keep finding interesting sites and articles and thinking that I want to write a blog post about them, but then I never get around to doing it. So today you get a variety of links that I wanted to pass on and collected in one single post. Enjoy!

Interesting article about energy conservation. Inspired by our insane electric bill for the last two months. Stupid electric heat. Unfortunately we can't do many of the things mentioned in the article since we don't own our apartment, but maybe we will change our light bulbs over and see if that shaves a few dollars off.

My mom wrote a cool post about February. I liked this post and the comments (and I recommend reading Segullah). And my friend Ken wrote a really funny response to that stupid email about Barack Obama.

My sister emailed me a good article about the Muslim world.

I was writing a post about why I don't like Disney Princesses, but this lady said it a lot better than I could.

For some cool ways that people do more good in the world, see here, here, and here

And I tried the sweet bread recipe listed here and it was fabulous! We made monkey bread that was super yummy and I tried the braided bread with cream cheese and strawberry jam. That one was harder to do and the filling got a little lost, but it was pretty tasty too.

Now go read something else and quit wasting your time here!

Where are you from?

It's an innocent question, but I still hate answering it. I usually say "California", even though I haven't been back there for over ten years now. These days I often reply "we've been in Utah for a while, but I'm originally from California". I know a lot of people have had nomadic childhoods as well, so I don't know why it's so hard for me to just say "I moved around a bit" (sometimes I do).

I was born in San Diego and we lived there until I was eight. I have lots of fond memories of San Diego: Sea World, the beach, our funky house with the pepper trees in the yard, the house with a macadamia tree, our other house with the cholo neighbors who raised pit bulls in the back yard, beautiful weather, the zoo, Balboa Park, the smell of oleander blossoms, eating Chinese food at the Peking Cafe, flying kites and riding the carousel at Seaport Village, and so many other memories that I can hardly name them all.

The year I turned eight, my dad got out of the Navy and started working for a defense contractor. We moved to Mountain Home, Idaho in November. The first morning we were there it snowed, and I remember running out to the motel parking lot in my pajamas to play in the little bit of snow dusting the cars and ground. We only lived in Mountain Home for about two and half years. I know it was a hard time for my parents, but I also remember having a lot of fun there. The years between eight and eleven were good ones to spend in a small town. I rode my bike to the pool, the library, and Kings variety store down town. I joined 4H and learned how to sew; I even have some blue ribbons from the county fair. My best friend lived in an old house outside of town and had her own horse. I spent the night at her house often; her mom used to make us warm Postum with cream in it for breakfast. I spent lots of time outside-- playing in the sagebrush when we lived outside of town, riding my bike when we lived in town.

Just before I turned eleven, we moved back to California. This time we lived in Port Hueneme, which is about an hour north of LA along the coast. It's a small town dominated by a Navy base and surrounded by the city of Oxnard. The area (Ventura County) is dominated by agriculture and manufacturing, although these days many of the strawberry fields have been replaced by housing developments and property values are skyrocketing along with the rest of California. Port Hueneme proved to be another fine place for unfettered growing up. My parents found a house within walking distance of schools, a park, and the library. We were only a mile from the beach, which could be reached by a bike trail that ran alongside a "creek" (really a glorified drainage ditch, but it was somewhat pretty). Our ward was friendly and I enjoyed my youth programs. My high school was certainly not a stellar education facility, but most of my teachers were dedicated and I found good friends and stayed out of trouble. One of the best things about Port Hueneme is the fabulous weather; unless the Santa Anas are blowing, it usually stays around seventy degrees or so year round. I got spoiled.

We moved again the summer before my senior year of high school. This time it was to a small town in Maryland; we lived in Saint Mary's county, which no one has ever heard of because it's that far out in the sticks. It's the little bit of land down where the Potomac river enters Chesapeake Bay. Maryland was so unlike anything I'd ever seen before; it really was a shock to me. I remember getting off the plane in Baltimore at 11 o'clock at night and feeling knocked over by the heat and humidity. My high school felt like something I had only seen on television: everyone was white, affluent, and drove their own cars to school. I didn't really make any lasting friends, but I managed to enjoy my senior year of school. I also enjoyed all four seasons, and the flowers during the spring were so beautiful. I still love the DC area and feel at home whenever I go back to visit.

I only lived in Maryland for a year before I moved to Utah for college. I ended up spending ten years in Utah, more or less. I moved home for the summer before I left on my mission and I spent a few more months at home after coming back. Despite all my time there, Utah doesn't quite feel like "home", although it might when I go back to visit next month. I enjoyed my time there but I am glad to be able to move on to somewhere else.

My parents moved to Las Vegas about a year ago, so now I can't even visit Maryland. I think that's one thing that makes it hard to feel like I'm "from" somewhere, because I've never been back to visit the places that formed so much of my past. I would especially like to visit Port Hueneme and see what has changed and what hasn't. As it is, places in the past exist frozen in some sort of nostalgic dream land in my mind. I sometimes envy my friends who grew up in the same house in the same town for their entire lives. They can still go visit their childhood. At the same time, they probably envy me because I am from so many places.

I would follow Thee

I wasn't in a very good mood during sacrament meeting yesterday. Our bench was crowded and S-Boogie wasn't cooperating much with the "sit still and keep your clothes on" rule. Little Dude had been up for most of the night screaming about his ear and we'd all woken up late. Then testimonies started, and yesterday honestly wasn't much of an uplifting meeting. We had the guy who had a talk he really wanted to give to the youth, the random non-member (I think) relating her really long life story in broken English, and the bitter ranter who gets up frequently to engage in his own form of group therapy from the pulpit. We started to go overtime and my butt started to hurt from the bench. Then we finally got to the closing song:

Savior, may I learn to love thee,
Walk the path that thou hast shown,
Pause to help and lift another,
Finding strength beyond my own.

Who am I to judge another
When I walk imperfectly?
In the quiet heart is hidden
Sorrow that the eye can’t see.

I would be my brother’s keeper
I would learn the healer’s art
To the wounded and the weary
I would show a gentle heart

Savior, may I love my brother
As I know thou lovest me
Find in thee my strength, my beacon
For thy servant I would be

Lord, I would follow Thee

I love this hymn; I often repeat the second verse to myself to remind me that most of us carry sorrow in our "quiet hearts" and that I should be softer with my judgement of other people. I'm not very good at that. In Sunday School we talked about the story of Christ and the Samaritan woman at the well. Someone pointed out that her language to Christ was rather challenging, perhaps even sarcastic. She did not treat him with reverence or respect. But his response was gentle, kind, and humble. I realize that I could have used my time in sacrament meeting to perhaps try and understand those on the pulpit. To really listen to them and figure out what needs lie below the surface of their words. I could turn that opportunity into a chance to meditate and pray in a search for compassion. I don't often remember my choices at these times. It's usually easier to simply judge, label, and perhaps even whisper some sort of remark to Master Fob sitting next to me. But perhaps next time I will remember. Because I would like to follow the Savior, even if I lose my focus so often.

Past my Bedtime

I was going to read some blogs and newspaper articles, work on my thesis a little, and then go to bed by 10:30 like a good girl.

Then I called my mom and talked for too long. And then Little Dude got up and I had to put him back to bed.

Then I had to eat ice cream.

Then the computer froze up and I reset it. And then I got nervous again about it crashing, so I started backing up our photos on CD (I've been meaning to do that for a while).

Then I remembered that we've been meaning to put actual names on our video files so we know what they are. Then I got engrossed in watching video of S-Boogie from 2 years ago (she really has grown up!).

And then it got really late and I realized that I need to go to bed. Only instead of going to bed, I paused to blog about it.

I will probably hate myself tomorrow.

The Verdict

This should be the last post about hemmorhoids for the time being (I make no promises about the future, but I promise that I'll lay off for a while after this).

So, I had my appointment with the doctor today. First of all, you should know that when I am nervous I tend to either get angry or giddy. Today I was kind of giddy, especially after sitting around the waiting room for an hour reading Ladies Home Journal and Sunset. Then they sent me back to the little room and I had to take off most of my clothes and sit around half-naked for another half an hour. I actually didn't see the doctor first; he sent in the resident to interview me and take a quick look at my bottom. She reassured me "You'll really like Dr. W, he's very nice and not really like a doctor at all." Then he came in and I almost started laughing. You see, when I hear "proctologist", I think grandfather-type old guy with white hair. Dr. W was only a few years older than me, wears dark Elvis Costello glasses, and had on a bright pink tie. He reminded me, rather disturbingly, of our friend Sir Jupiter. So I kept trying hard not to giggle during the whole appointment, especially when he kept looking at me over his glasses and talking very seriously about "bowel movements" and "anoscopes". The whole experience was rather surreal.

So, after having three different people look at my butt today and shove various scary objects into it, they decided I do not need surgery at this point. This is good, because surgery is painful and takes a while to recover from. The doctor said he prefers to keep surgery as a final resort after other measures don't work so well. I feel a little ambivalent about this, because while I see the good in avoiding a difficult surgery at this time, I still have the problem. I could have another big flare-up like last weekend. I have an unfortunate combination of genetic predisposition, a tendency towards constipation, and two pregnancies working against me. But my new goals are to eat more fiber and take fiber supplements, keep getting regular exercise, and to drink more water. I promised my hip, young doctor that I will produce one soft bowel movement every day and that if I have more problems we will talk again later. I just hope he's not wearing that distracting pink tie next time.