Jello For You

This is a post I started a while back, so the admission of blogging slackage isn't exactly relevant right this very minute. But we all know it often is, so I'm sure you can use your imagination if you need to.

I couldn't stand the guilt of going a minute longer without updating my blog! I just finished reading all my regulars and after savoring the yummy words of some of my dearest friends I thought, "Not cool, Keems. You can't keep showing up to this potluck with no jello," or something like that.

Unforch, there are lots of ideas jumping around in my head, but they're like that little black dot in your vision: as soon as you try to focus on it, it jumps back out of sight.

Perhaps I will tell you about a little thing we like to call 'Chinese Christmas'.

As you are likely aware (since you are reading this and there are only like three people who read this), Bob is a bit of a shopper. He loves getting his shop on.

Imagine what it must be like for him to go to China where everything is 90% cheaper than it is back home. Poor Bob is practically helpless in that situation, and virtually compelled to buy enough stuff to also have to buy a new suitcase in which to carry home the merchandise. We have a lot of suitcases. Luckily they only last for a couple of trips before they break, which should keep the number of suitcases down. What we really have is a lot of broken suitcases. But you didn't need to know that.

There are several things that Bob regularly buys such as shoes, jeans, candy, gum and DVDs. And then there are things he buys once in a while, like pearls, purses, scarves and watches. And then there are things he buys once, like high heeled tennis shoes and this 

I only made it that big so you can read the Point! section. And I especially enjoy the bathroom scene. Where can I get me one of those double-toilet baffrooms? Think of the great conversations we could have! Anyways, I have that guy on my desk. In orange. And I believe someone has the blue one. You know who you are and you'd better have it on your WORK desk! At WORK!

Sorry to distract you like that--I was talking about Chinese Christmas before the desk art caused a pretty pervasive tangent. Anyways, Chinese Christmas is what we call it when Bob comes home from China and opens his suitcases (yes, plural). Was that self-explanatory? I can't always tell.

Chinese Christmas is very exciting and also stinky. Everything smells like China and that ain't no compliment. We all can't wait for our regulars: shoes! shirts! new gum flavors! yes! I wanted to see that movie!; our semi-regulars: awesome, you got scarves! and a tablecloth!; and then there are the one-timers: what in the mutated Chinese knick-knacks is that?!

Chinese Christmas usually stays scattered around our living room for a few days as we try to find more room in our closets for China-scented clothing and new places for the undefinables. Sometimes they go straight to the gift closet to await the White Elephant Party in December.

I'm sure this will be one my family's most treasured accidental traditions in the years to come. Sometimes I wonder if there will come a day when Bob doesn't travel to China anymore and I'll be left longing for just one more set of blueberry-colored pearls for my brother-in-law's grandmother. I hope it never happens.

Do you have any accidental traditions? Tell me about them!

When Life Gives You Lemonade...

The following embarrassing, but hilarious story is not about me this time. It's about my sister, whom I have called Bwuthow since Jr. High. She calls me Bwuthow too. We don't know why, so you can keep wondering but it won't do you any good.

She is a massage therapist. I know, lucky me, right? Oh, yes.

One day she was giving her friend a massage. She had to haul her very heavy massage table up to her friend's attic where it was nice and sweltering. Then she had to give a 60 minute massage, which was just plain exhausting. Then she had to carry her still heavy table back down the stairs and out into the toasty summer sun. So you and I can both imagine how delighted she was when her friend brought out a delicious glass of icy lemonade for the drive home.  Yum!

She set the lemonade on the roof of her car while she loaded up the table.

Right now you're probably thinking that you know what's going to happen in this story, because so did I. But you can just hold your little horses for a sec.

Okay, yes, it's a given that she left it on top of the car. I mean, she is my sister after all, so it's kind of obv. But that lemonade stayed right there. It didn't go flying down the road or rolling down her windshield onto the hood. It stayed right there all the way until she opened up the sunroof.

Colleege! Observations From an Overaged Student

How is school going, you ask? Well, let me tell you: it's going great! Yes, there were the typical first-and-second-day disasters that everyone has, like having the sprinkler come on in your face at lunchtime and being doused in a bowl of hot chicken noodle soup. But really, just the usual stuff.

And, well, I guess there's the one thing where I look like a big loser eating lunch by myself EVERY DAY. But aside from that I am having a blast. I love being in the classroom. I love the teachers, the assignments, the atmosphere. If I were going to night classes or something, there would probably be plenty of other people my age. But I go during the daytime. Regular school hours. And I am one of two older students in each of my classes. Except the other ones are like 30. I don't mind. I actually kinda like it. When introducing myself in one class I told them if they can't remember my name they can just call me mom. They are the same age as at least 2 of my children, although far more diverse.

Let's face it, SLCC is cheap. Which is why I'm going there for now. But that also makes it the County Fair* of colleges. For one thing, there is no dress code. I have a problem with that because of the many unwelcome bodyparts I am forced to know way too much about due to the child-sized dollar store clothes (or is it GenX?) which many of my schoolmates choose to wear. But I can't help being fascinated by it at the same time. And the conversations I overhear are also very...entertaining. My favorite: "Yeah, well, when she gets out of prison I'm not even gonna talk to her!" Me neither, buddy. And why do you have a tattoo on your neck?

The tattoos are another story, but you already know that. I do. not. get it.

So, here is a funny story for you that happened last week: I was sitting by myself at lunch, AS USUAL, and may I say right here that it is a shame about that because the people-watching is fabulous there and I have no one to share it with. But anyways, so I was sitting at an outside table, looking like a loser but trying to look like I meant to sit by myself, possibly because no one else was cool enough to sit by me, but more likely because I'm old and don't have any friends...yet. And I heard this girl going around to groups of people asking very enthusiastically whether or not they'd heard that the Plain White T's are coming to campus!!! <--Her exclamations, not mine.

Eventually she got to the cool-kids'-table-for-one, came up behind me and exclaimed, "Did you hear the Plain White T's are coming to campus?!!!" I took a flyer from her and said, "Oh, cool!" She continued her spiel as she walked around to the front of my table and finally looked at me. At that point she hesitated. "Um...if you maybe have some kids...or...," and that's when she saw the look on my face which must have accurately communicated how UNcool that was what she just said to me, and she tried backpedaling, "or...if maybe you like them...or...," as she backed away and quickly moved on to her next appropriate-aged clients. To quench my feelings of insult and also to prove her wrong, even though she wouldn't ever know, I grabbed my iPod and pulled up the 5 Plain White T's songs I have on there. Ha! So there! And then I tried to evaluate the situation. What exactly was bothering me? That she recognized how old I am? Well, I am. That she had the audacity to assume I have kids old enough to go to a Plain White T's concert? Well, I do. In the end I realized what really bothered me was that I was bothered so much by it. THAT's the part that makes me old!  "How DARE you guess my correct age! Why I oughtta!"

Sheesh. Old people.

*When you are at the County Fair, don't you always wonder where did all these people come from? Do they live in the county limits? Why don't I ever see them any other time except sometimes at Walmart? Where do they hide out the rest of the year? Do they just wait for the County Fair and then say, "ColbyAnn, getcher tube top on! We're headin' to our once-a-year outing: the COUNTY FAIR!" And then when they grow up they go to SLCC, I guess.

Colleeeeege!

In an effort to become more literate and edgamacated I have decided to go back to school. I didn't tell you way back when I made the decision because I didn't want to be that girl who says I'm going to do something, but then later when you ask about it she's all oh I didn't do it. So I wanted to surprise you and really be doing it when I told you about it.

Do you like how I acted like you didn't already know even though the only people who read this blog (that I know about) would already know such a thing? It's for the future when my readership is through the ROOF!

I don't think I want to go into my real reasons for going back because it will take too long, but it seems like I'm about to. Yep, I'm about to.

Short version:
Although it should have been super-obv for my whole life, including my childhood, which I realize was implied, it never, for some reason, occurred to me that there is something I love to do that could be a reason to earn a degree and which could also become a career. And as soon as I tell you what it is you will wonder how I could possibly have written the preceding sentence (but I'm really tired and I don't curr). I have been obSESSed (ask anyone) with proofreading and editing ever since I can remember (don't say it!) and always proofread everything I read. Mistakes jump up off the page and smack me in the face and I LOVE correcting them. I know, super nerdy. But I really love it.
So a few months ago it hit me over the head like unto an anvil and the rest is herstory (haha--get it?).

So I will be making Colleege posts here and there to let you know how it's going, especially since it's hard for you to sleep at night wondering how school is going and stuff.

I was going to tell you about my first two days and a couple of my teachers, but my video homework just finished burning to disc and it's after midnight and I have classes all day tomorrow and then a 3-hour night class, so I gotsta get to bed.

Kthanxbye

P.S. Boy am I going to be horrified when I read this later and find all my mistakes. And I call myself a proofreader!

Note to an Absentminded Musician:

BONO, why don't you just tell me what it is so I can help you look? This has been going on far too long. When you first said you couldn't find it I felt bad and wished you the best and everything. But then you kept going on and on about it. Every time I turned around there you were, whining again. Geez!

By and by you've lightened up a little and only lamented occasionally, but still, I find myself silently asking, "Seriously, Bono? Still?"

I just heard you keening again the other day and I mean it's been like 25 years! Come! On! Either find it or move on already!

I'm sorry my friend, but I have to ask: are you sure you're really even looking?!

If You Go There...Take a Jacket

It seems there is a phenomenon following me around called, "If you go there, it will be cold."

If you were to ask me what my ideal vacation would be I would tell you: Somewhere Warm. That's it. My only request. It can be an hour away, a day away, on the other side of the globe. Doesn't matter, as long as the sun is shining.

A few years ago some friends and I were sick and tired of the inversion in Bountiful. Spring was coming, but not fast enough and we wanted to be warm. We decided to take a little grrltrip to a foolproof warm zone: Phoenix, AZ. Or was it Tempe? Who even cares? Either way, we should have been safe, right? Wrong. For the few days we were there all we heard was, "It's so strange! It's NEVER this cold this time of year! NEVER!" We couldn't even get in the pool, we just sat on lounge chairs near the pool in our jackets and read our books while some stupid little kids who were too young to care about being cold shivered in the water. Bust.

Then there was China. Though it was actually slightly warmer than predicted that time, that's not saying much because China in December is riDONKulously, brutally cold. The humid winter air and frigid winds are SO not cool. Well, yes, cool--but not in a good way. So I told my traveling companions that next time we need to go somewhere WARM.

Los Angeles! Yes!.....no. "It's crazy! Just last week it was SO WARM! It's just a crazy cold spell--don't know how to explain it." Uh huh. Whatever. Good thing the company was awesome. The day after we left, you'll never believe it...super HOT!

San Francisco? Sounded iffy to me. Let's just say I now have a darling souvenir jacket from Pier 39. At least they had hot chocolate here and there in SF.

Next? I think it was prob Park City. In the winter. Enough said, right?

Then it was Las Vegas for the National Finals Rodeo. Fun trip. Fun friends. Cold weather.

Oh my gosh! For Spring Break we've flown the fam to South Carolina and rented a beach house on Harbor Island! SOUTH Carolina. In the SOUTH. I promise a guy said this as we picked up our rental: "It's been so hot! It was so hot just yesterday! I don't know why it's cold today, but it's supposed to get warmer in a few days, don't worry." For 3 days it has been windy and chilly, even rainy. Yesterday we tried to go to Hunting Beach. We walked out on the pier and after watching a few birds get hauled off in the air by the fierce winds, and me imagining (for no logical reason) how awful it would be to fall off the giant pier into the freezing, roiling waves, we all ran back to the car and cranked on the heater. I've been running on the beach every morning, but unibomber-style with my hoodie tied tightly against my sunglasses so I don't get a headache from the cold wind boxing my ears.

It was actually warmish today. Beautiful, really. We went to the beach and watched Christian try out his skim board. The water was still too cold for any intelligent person to swim in (haha, mostly kidding, Christian!). But it's supposed to be warm again tomorrow. Notice I say warm. There's no chance of hot, but at this point warm sounds pretty great. I'll take it!

Not that we haven't had a great time. It's been a blast. We can always have fun, regardless of the weather. And a vacay is a vacay. But I am still on my quest for a very warm to hot vacation, and starting to wonder if the problem isn't, well...me.

Klassic Keems

A friend's blog today mentioned Hires Big H in Salt Lake. It reminded me of a recent trip there for lunch with Becky. When the waitress came over I warned her not to judge me for what I was about to order and then proceeded to order a hot chocolate and a rootbeer float.

Embarrassing?

More like perfection.