6 mos.

You may think you know what you're seeing ... but you probably don't.

For example, the basketball is not growing out of my belly.
Thank goodness.

go Lady Cats, and all that jazz

Last Friday Slice and I attended a high school basketball game; my first in years. I figured we should probably go since it was a State game, at home, and we get in free.

(Our girls team is so awesome this year (20-1?) that they moved the boys Varsity games to 5:00 and the girls to 7:00. 'Cause everyone wants to watch the girls.)

Um, I forgot how loud those games could be.
I pondered wearing earplugs - the Dr. told me I should protect my hearing better from now on - but didn't think they would be necessary.
I was wrong!

I had to plug my ears almost the whole time.

Slice went all camera-happy during the game, snapping literally hundreds of pics while I buried my left ear in his shoulder, trying to get comfortable on those horrid bleacher seats. I'm pretty sure it annoyed him. Also, I love seeing who goes to events like that, often I am surprised. My parents have never gone to school games unless my brothers were playing. They are still uneducated in small-town community etiquette.

Anyway. We won! And the team won again last night at UVU, maybe because of the two packed student buses that didn't get home until the wee hours of the morning.

But if they keep winning, Lana will be gone Saturday during our marathon dress rehearsal.
(Center Stage shows next week!)

I'm torn.


$105 poorer, but so much wiser

FYI: Before you set up a dental appointment (and go through with it), you should check to make sure they carry your insurance.

Hey! It's my half-birthday!

I would like to add that he is a STUDENT right now, first and foremost.

Slice would like me to announce to my readers that he is a painter.

I said, "You want me to say...that you like to paint?"

He said, "No. I am a painter. Put that on the blog. And they can contact me for rates anytime."

So ... you can contact him for rates anytime.


ramblings 2

Soldier Hollow found my phone! They've been searching for the right charger, so they could find a number to call home. I think they must have found it before the snow set in. Thank you Soldier Hollow Charter School.

Is anyone else annoyed by all the war-mongering in the Olympics media?
Can we stop throwing antagonizing quotes at Lysacek like he doesn't know what "they" are saying?! Let him be gracious!

Ice Dancing. Mesmerizing in a morbid-curiosity kind of way. But why is it getting so much media coverage?

Petra Majdic is my new definition of AWESOME.

Slice does not like peanut butter cookies. I'm still in shock.
Probably would have been good to know before I made them.

Tithing check for yesterday: Check #666.

monday ramblings 1

feeling a bit under the weather
(colds + pregnancy = so fun ... now neither of my ears work properly)

thinking it's probably because of everything I'm bottling up
(no one loves dirty laundry aired on the Internets, but you'll hear about it later anyway)

combined with 5-hour Center Stage rehearsals, 3 jobs, various projects, etc.

and turns out-
it is really nice to have someone who understands the
you are living with, and
who still loves you anyway.
Especially when he shops, cooks meals and washes the dishes while you sleep.

someone else knows what you're going through -
and don't you love it when you realize that
scriptures, Sacrament Meeting talks and choir pieces
were written just for you?

I love that.


We must be breeding an Army

I was talking to one of our Primary teachers during Sharing Time on Sunday (shame, I know) who also happens to be pregnant. We counted up the pregnant women in our ward - six that we could think of - and we realized that everyone who "knows" by now is expecting a boy.

Then I started thinking of my friends who are pregnant, and most of them are having boys.

Almost all of my pregnant cousins are also having boys.

What could it be?

Who will they marry?

(China, I'm asking you.)

Well, this is neat

Next week we will be hosting a "Wordle Week" here in the LMC. I have spent many days preparing.

(Don't you wish your job was that fun!)

If you've been reading here long enough, you may recall that I check our top titles semi-obsessively. I even figured out how to manipulate them so I know what books have been checked out the most over the last one, three, five years, etc. So ... of course I had to Wordle them. Combining library stats with Wordles is, like, eating raspberries and Crème brûlée.

Top 50 checkouts since 2005- Fiction

Top 50 checkouts since 2005 - Non-fiction
(I played with those a little because Manga books took up the whole list)

And....since we've been talking about names here....

First names of UHS Freshmen

Not as bad as the Elementary School kids, for sure!

This program was brought to you by http://www.wordle.net.
Stay tuned for more Wordles.


For the Love

For Valentine's Day I made Slice a recipe box.

Remember how he wanted one for Christmas, but I didn't get him one because he MADE ME PROMISE not to buy him any gifts?
(And because I am such a 'good' wife that I actually kept that promise?)

But- I'm always thinking of ways to encourage his cooking habits. Because I LOVE that Slice cooks, I really do. Not that I can't cook or I refuse (although I do prefer the baking side of food preparation), but this he-cooks I-eat cycle is such a beautiful thing; I just don't see why I should interfere with it.

So, about a week ago I had the idea to make a recipe box out of old library catalog cards, cookbook indexes and cast-off cardboard. I figured it would turn out either cute or really ugly.
(You know I'm not the craftiest person alive.)

After two days of sneaky work -much longer than I'd anticiapted!- it turned out mostly cute. I think.

Now I just have to leave it alone ....


it's Thursday again

This is what happens when The Photog stays in bed, even though I (sort of) asked him to take a picture this morning because it's Thursday.
What are we at now, 24 weeks? I don't even know exactly.
Maybe that's weird.

For those who are wondering, I have gained approximately 11 pounds. I still wear my regular clothes about half of the time, thanks to all those clothes I bought in college when I weighed more than I do even now (see here for details). I don't drink enough water, I don't exercise at all, and I eat a lot of oatmeal and fruit snacks. I also take naps when I can.
Obviously, not much has changed.

Baby has a favorite song - if jumping frantically and beating against the chamber through the entire thing is any indication of favoritism (see here for details). We sang it at the end of choir practice Sunday, and OH BOY can this child move.
He also gets excited whenever Daddy is around and talking. Practicing his golf swing in there, no doubt.
Too bad I won't be able to help with that.

Yesterday I went to German class to talk about Austria. I was so excited about it, I took almost an hour instead of the 20 minutes I was supposed to take .... whoops. This speaking opportunity made me realize three things:
  1. I did not bring back anything from Austria for myself. Salt & Pepper shakers for Mom, miniature Black Forest clock for Dad, Mozart puppet for Em, nothing (except large clothes) for me. Check.
  2. Gosh, I miss it! I miss the food and the old beautiful buildings, the churches, the opera. I miss hearing and speaking German every day. Someday I'll go back, just you wait and see.
  3. I'm so lucky to have experiences to talk to foreign-language students about. Two classes in two months? (Seven countries in three years??)
SERIOUSLY, SO GRATEFUL that my life hasn't turned out the way I thought it would.


Fast Sunday hymns

Our ward organist, I am sorry to say, is one of those ward organists who plays every hymn at exactly half-speed.

(Note: I AM NOT ASKING FOR HIS JOB. I couldn't do any better, even if I did take that organ class at BYU, Mother. The class nearly kicked my trash.)

We all know that a hymn taken too fast can be irreverent, right? But hello, nothing takes the spirit out of a meeting like "True to the Faith" as a funeral march. Or any hymn as a funeral march. Also, when the organ registration gets louder and more boisterous with each verse and sometimes the chorus.

The good thing to be gained from such looooong hymns every meeting, I suppose, is the ample time to make faces at siblings. There were times when Matt and I barely made it through ... oh the pain.
(We've had the same organist for quite a while.)

(And last week at my uncle's funeral Slice actually said, "It's nice to hear a hymn played at the right speed!")


The other great thing about this brother is that yesterday he pulled a Pat Robertson, postulating to the ward that the snowstorm in D.C. is really a warning to our government. I'm sure he's not the only one who thinks so, but still, I squirmed in my seat, Slice kept telling me to be quiet - I WAS being quiet - while he blasted everything from health care reform to the national debt.

I love this church.
*image kifed from my friend Bree, who I hope doesn't mind! and who is a MUCH better organist than I am, I'm sure


"getting through"

So I keep reading these blog posts about "getting through January"
and "how to survive February"
as if winter was such a drudgery, it's a disappointment to wake up every morning.
As if we were better off dead.

Maybe it's just me - or maybe it's the two family funerals in six days that helps to put things in perspective - but if you are living life just to get through it, aren't you missing something?

Like LIFE?

And on a related note:
If you think winter is miserable and you live somewhere that gets ABOVE FREEZING temperatures during the day, or where you can go to a museum/swimming pool/restaurant/Target/non-school arts performance less than 30 miles away, or where you can BUY A SHAKE PAST 9:00 ON FRIDAY NIGHT, don't complain to me. Your woes are falling on deaf ears.

Thank you.


Unexpected Calls

It's that time of year again.
(What time of year? You ask.)

Tax season.

I know it when my phone starts ringing/beeping/vibrating several times a day and I don't recognize any of the numbers - because my cell number is one digit off from our local H&R Block.
(H & R Block, how much do you pay your secretaries? I ask.)

The calls don't bother me much, but I am always intrigued when I get voicemails that go something like this: "Hi, my name is _______________ and I was calling to set up an appointment to get my taxes done. You can call me back at ___________."

Because what part of "Hi, this is Rachel's phone, sorry I missed you" is hard to understand?


The Mayor (a former co-worker of mine, nicely enough) called me Friday to ask if I would like to be on the Housing Authority Board for the City. "You must have impressed somebody," he said.
(Or 210 people, I thought.)

I think I'll do it. Even though -or maybe because- I don't actually own a home here. Yet.