A non-poem tribute, for the Occasion

When Angie was planning her wedding
(for about 6 weeks)
we women spent a couple of days wedding dress-shopping.
It was a lot of fun.

We started at a little local store, where I tried on some formal dresses
just to see how I looked,
and because I hoped to go to a school dance sometime in the near future.

Only one of them stole my heart -
a lovely purple, slender, shimmery thing that had obviously been in the store for a while (judging by the price tag) -
I wanted it, someday.
I tucked that away for future reference.

Nine months later (yes nine!)
I was awoken in the wee hours of the morning
by a strange alarm clock under my bed,
a rose, and a note
asking me to my Senior Homecoming.
(Don’t worry, I got him back.)

First chance I got, I drove to the store with my mother
to see if The Dress was still there...
It was.
But, I couldn’t pay for it then, so I sighed and walked out the door,
planning to return the next week.

Monday I returned and scanned the shelves with a sinking feeling.
Not there.
The lady at the counter recognized me and asked for my name.
Then she pulled a dress bag off the rack and handed it to me.
“All paid for,” she said.
My dress! And it was already paid for!
Dad...

Dad had gone and bought the dress for me,
wouldn’t even let me pay him back.

My dad does great things like that.

And speaking of that guy…
It’s his birthday today!

(That's actually the point of this post, it's hard to tell, I know)



Last night Slice was asking me what my dad likes to do, for fun,
we were discussing ideas for gifts.
I thought.
And thought.
And thought.

“Nothing really,” I said, “he has no hobbies.”
“He just likes to be with his kids. And to make them happy.
He likes to fish – with his kids, and camp – with his kids, and work with his kids,
And watch BYU football,
but that’s it.
I think he just likes to read.
(That’s why he’s impossible to buy gifts for
and I give him books every birthday, Father’s Day and Christmas.)”

I never know what else to do.

The great part is, though, I know he really doesn’t want anything
but for me to know he loves me,
(I do)
and for his family to be truly happy.
(we are)

Isn’t that the mark of a great man?

But I AM recommending this

I watched Steel Magnolias for the first time last night, as I waited for Slice to come home from work.
I think it's cliche by now, but I still loved it.
A delightful blend of family and life experiences...
just enough of them to make you think about your own.
Love and loss are all part of the game here, you can play them well, or they will play you.
I think sometimes we forget that.


I've been reading this book for what seems like three years now. It's actually only been three weeks, but it's taking forever because this is not one of those books you can breeze right through. Every paragraph, every sentence, is simply packed with substance. I've never seen writing like it.
Bragg writes about life and death and suffering and love, beautifully, as someone who has seen all of it. His total lack of pretension - abhorrence of it - is so refreshing, I can't even begin to explain.
I've always had a hard time with people who think they are better than everyone else.
(That's probably my favorite thing about living here in Roosevelt.)

Anyway, there are too many good quotes to post here, so I'll just recommend the book.
But you don't have take my word for it! (Did you hate it as much as I did when LeVar said that on Reading Rainbow every time? Oooh, I hated that.)

There you are, a movie and a book. "The both."

not recommending this

Around the time that Slice and I started dating –over a year ago– a mysterious illness manifested itself unto me. The main symptoms were burning, itchy, unbearably sore throats, and also chronic fatigue.
I chalked it up to the late nights, still chilly, that I spent outside with Slice.
(Which happened only once or twice a week - I was in Provo, he was in Roosevelt, and we saw each other mostly on weekends. I guess it could’ve also been from the many hours we spent talking on the phone.)

Whatever the cause, I tried to ignore it. I drank water like a camel, kept a waterbottle by my bed, stocked up on throat-soothing things like milk and Vitamin C drops. I also tried to keep up with my schedule of school, work, homework, church/social activities, and long-distance dating. It wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, I’ll tell you what.

Spring term came and I was engaged, but still trudging through life in Provo. The sore throat didn’t seem to get better. It would ebb and flow with the weeks, but it never truly went away. So I started gargling. Water, salt water, Listerine. When the pain was really bad I took Ibuprofen; no relief lasted for long.

But the worst part, by far, was being so tired all the time.
I would drag myself out of bed literally ten minutes before I had to be to work, throw myself together, grab a Slimfast and book it up the street. (I pretty much never made it on time.) It was probably more unlucky for me that work was only a five-minute walk away. I banked on it too much.
I yawned through the day, sometimes stealing a quick nap before/after choir, and when I got home from work I always took a real nap. Then I would wake up, eat, call Slice (if my phone was working – which it rarely was), and go back to bed around ten. The next day it would all start again. My roommates probably thought I was narcoleptic or something.
I could NOT figure out why I was so tired all the time.

The day I got scared was the day I was singing in choir, standing up even– AND I FELL ASLEEP. I caught myself nodding off mid-song.
That was when I started asking questions about mono.

Several of my friends had been diagnosed with mono before, so I asked around, but that was all I did. I had a wedding to plan, after all. I toughed the sore throats and finished the term, moved home, and got married six weeks later.

I don’t remember much from last summer. Seriously. If you asked me what I did, I couldn’t really tell you.
I do remember being tired all the time and asking other people about it; they told me “when you’re married you need more sleep.”
I would get up, take Slice to work, sleep for three more hours, and still need a nap by lunchtime. I tried to read for my Independent Study history class, but no matter when or where it was, I would fall asleep before long. It was incredibly frustrating.
(Also embarrassing, because Slice would get home from work and ask, “what did you do today?” “Um…..not much.” What a good wife I am.)

At the end of August, I finally went to see a doctor. I asked him about Mono and he said he’d test me for Strep first. The very first test came back positive, almost instantly.
“You have strep,” he said.
I couldn’t believe it.

The reason I’m telling you this, I suppose, is to help you learn from my mistakes, but also just because I’m wondering out loud.

I think my immune system is permanently damaged.

I’ve had a few colds since last April, among other things, and not one of them has been gone within a week or ten days. Heck, I think they’ve all been two- or three-week deals, with neverending congestion and painfully reminiscent sore throats.

I used to be the healthiest person I knew!
(Like ONE visit to a doctor in fifteen years, to burn off a wart.)
Sheesh.

I’m still more tired than I ever used to be, but I’m not sure if that’s from the strep, or just “being married,” or something else entirely.

Maybe my body is still recovering from all those years I ran a rigorous schedule on pitiful amounts of sleep.

Things I am Loving right now

1. my (mostly) clean house

2. green!

3. Amish Friendship Bread

4. This article on big families (apparently mine is mega-sized) from the front page of today's Deseret News

5. this cold I've had for a week - NOT

6. Beethoven

7. Forever Strong (finally saw it last week!)

8. this bus, obviously


9. the temple

10. I TALKED TO MATT TODAY! He called me from the airport because his flight was delayed several hours, and Slice had my cell phone but he brought it to me after lunch. We had a nice little chat chat.

11. We get to talk to him again in a couple weeks.

12. This kid:

who keeps me laughing by telling Grandpa to "lay off the booze," knowing that Grandma would say something like "I've always wanted to slip him a little liquor! To see if he would let his hair down just a little!"

She never disappoints.

*also he took that picture of himself.

Operation LAUNCH

The time has come.

I have a little something for you.

For a few months now, Slice and I have been working on a project. This project started with this and has grown into THIS. The Other Blog. (And everything that accompanies it.) We now offer it up to you.

Hopefully, we'll be posting there regularly in the future. Don't judge too harshly -- we are just beginners, learning as we go ... and there is so much to learn!

{You'll notice that some are watermarked, some are not. That's because Slice knows what he's doing, and he uses Photoshop to edit. I just play with iPhoto.}
{Which is pretty cool, actually.}

So there's the project, and your explanation. We welcome your comments, suggestions, whatever.
Huzzah!

Sneak Peek

I took my first Senior Pictures last night! More to come...

My personal brand of Crazy

One result of getting married, I’m finding, is that you have to explain yourself to your spouse a lot. I never thought I was the type of person who would need to do this. Turns out I was wrong.
Aside from the whole wasting-anything-hurts-my-soul thing, there's these:

I only microwave things in consecutive or repeating numbers, i.e. 3:21 or 4:56, or 1:11. I never punch in full or half minutes. Can I explain that? Not really.

The other night during scripture study, I was laughing and then crying with no real reason to do either. (Blaming it on the hormones…) It startled me, too, really. Such a range of emotion in such a short amount of time! It’s exhausting. Believe me.

Apparently, I slurp cold cereal. (And make squishing noises when I'm washing my hands, but that's not germane to this conversation.) It took Slice a long time to tell me this. First he told me I chomp on my spoon, which isn't true, but at least it brought us closer to the real problem. Months later, he told me the cold hard truth.
Then he explained that his greatest fear in life is that we will someday eat cold cereal in public - any company, really - and I will shame him into oblivion.
I just can't stand leaving anything on the spoon.
Now as you know, I really love warm weather. I especially love sitting on my deck in the sun, reading or sleeping, and working on my tan. (Soaking up sunshine, remember?) But when Slice asks me why I’m wearing a skirt to work and I say, “because I shaved my legs” –in all seriousness, because if I shaved my legs you bet they’ll be bare the next day –he gets this grin on his face. It’s a grin that says “I married the quirkiest woman in the universe.” And what do I say to that?

And finally,
You know those commercials where irrational people kick, bang, shake, and otherwise assault vending machines just to get their little drinks out? Or, say, Grandma’s chocolate-chocolate chip cookies?

Those people are so irrational.

Changing

Every once in a while something happens that reminds me I am growing old, one short day at a time. It is a sobering thought.
Last week, several of those 'somethings' happened.

Friday night I attended a wedding reception for a good friend from high school. A happy event!! Still, I was reminded of all the years I have watched her family at mutual, church and school activities; so much has changed since we moved in their neighborhood almost eight years ago. I think it's harder to see their family changing -their parents getting older- than it is to see my own. I don't know why this is.

Saturday morning, I sang at a funeral for my next-door neighbor, who passed away on Wednesday. She was a sweet sweet lady.
The last funeral I'd witnessed was my grandpa's, and there couldn't have been a bigger difference. Carolyn's was a small, sad affair conducted right in the mortuary. Her family and friends had hardly a word to say about her. (?!) When my grandpa died, we held a family meeting where we shared stories and lessons learned; it lasted for a few hours.
Still, Carolyn's funeral was a sweet reminder of the things I know to be true, and what great comfort the knowledge will be to me again...
(not that I'm looking forward to that time!)

Then Saturday night I watched Union's Promenade for the first time. I haven't been back since I was in it myself. Has it really been only 4 years?
Kiana looked gorgeous, and I was proud.


Finally, yesterday marked a YEAR since Slice popped the all-important question. (I wrote about that unexpectedness here and here.) I still stare at this ring all the time, like I can't believe it's really there. I can't believe it's all happened. And here we are, a year later.

*One thing I forgot to mention in those posts was that Slice never asked my ring size. He played with my rings often -none of which I wore on that finger- putting them on his own fingers. Little did I know, he was actually logging away the relative size so he could get the right one without asking. So sly.

I tried my hand at Sports Photography

Monday Slice played in a Pro-Pro tournament at Ogden's country club. It was a beautiful course - and a beautiful day. I tagged along, snapping shots like crazy, until I got bored and my feet got blistered. I was also maybe worried about dying instantly from head trauma.

It's so fun for me to watch Slice play, there's a side of him that only can be seen on the course. (Make your jokes here....It's true.) He's totally in his element out there, isolated, cool.
I don't understand it, but maybe someday I will. Maybe.

My dream job

In Henderson, we stayed in a beautiful home packed full of tapestries, dishes, artwork and furniture from all around the world. Seriously, you've never seen so many cool things in a space that small. It looks like a museum.

The owner of this home has a PhD in demography, and over the past few decades has traveled (lived) with his family all over the globe advising governments and businesses on their own infrastructure.
(At least that was my understanding.)

Hot dog!

I LOVE DEMOGRAPHY.
I didn't even know there was a demography degree, much less Masters and PhDs in it. I guess I figured the science was nestled somewhere between geography and history.

After I returned from Europe, almost every paper I wrote was geared towards demography. Birth rates, death rates, factors that have caused changes in family life are fascinating to me. I studied religions, wars, emigration patterns, living conditions, food. I read about the Turks taking over Austria not politically, but culturally. I wrote about the present phenomenon that is sucking the "soul" out of Europe.

You see, demography is everywhere. Whether you realize it or not, our families (or lack thereof) determine how our society is run. Demography begets marketing, begets business. It shapes world policies in hugely populated countries such as China and India. Some argue it will determine the next world superpower - when the United States has fallen from that throne.
(Did I just say "when"?)

So anyway, I think I have found my calling in life.
Don't tell Slice. I don't know how many golf courses there are in Hong Kong and Cambodia.