We finally broke down and bought a prenatal yoga video. I've been doing it every day since it arrived and I think that I'm getting better at it. I was doing yoga with some girls in my ward, but of all the times I've gone I've only met up with anyone twice. I figured that twice in two months is not very good odds, which is why we purchased the video.
It came on Monday and for Family Home Evening we were going to do yoga together (Andrew is trying to be supportive). He was totally fine with it until the instructor suggested we all get on the floor and do some kegel exercises--then he decided that this yoga DVD was just for me.
I gladly claimed the first part of the movie because the second part of the movie teaches the "birthing partner" (read: Andrew) massage techniques. I gladly turned that on for him and told him to pay attention because my back is sick and tired of carrying around this extra weight.
Last night he was so nice and was using some of the techniques that he learned. I was having a fine time until I noticed a bug on the bed. Every now and then I will see a bug on the bed. I don't know why. It's always the same type of bug and I have no idea where it comes from because I changed the sheets and we flipped over the mattress looking to see where they could be hiding. Alas, we found no bug in sight...we just find them occasionally and always on the bed--never the floor. So, I said to Andrew,
"Ugh, there's a bug on the bed!" He removed it, because he's a gentleman. I complained because I am sick of finding bugs on the bed, and because I'm a lady.
"It's only happened once," he said, trying to soothe me.
"Once?!?" I asked in disbelief.
"Okay, twice..." he said, a little less sure of his ability to soothe.
"Twice?!?!" I asked, equally shocked.
Andrew gave up on soothing and instead decided to go for some humor.
"Once, Twice...Three times a lady!" he sang.
This got me laughing. I'm not really sure why because neither one of us actually know that song and weren't even really sure that it was a song because he sang it to the tune of Look to the Rainbow from Finian's Rainbow, a song that I've had stuck in my head for the last few days and, consequently, have been singing. He was just so silly about it--it's part of our prenuptial agreement: he is to make me laugh every day. Not that we have a prenuptial agreement, but we did have some things we agreed upon before we got married, so I suppose that is technically--although informally--part of our prenuptial agreement.
Well, Three Times a Lady really is a song and it's by Lionel Richie, so it's completely possible that we've both heard it before, although Brick House is so much more well-known because it is featured on DDR (also known as Dance, Dance Revolution for those in the audience who are less-street).
Truthfully, I really think I've only found three bugs. So far, that is...
Saturday, June 09, 2007
A week of field trips
Remember back in the good ol' days when field trips were looked forward to all year long because, although still educational, they were a great break from the monotonous schedule of school?
I remember once going to a museum in Calgary and writing a report after. The assignment was to write about our favorite exhibit. I chose to write about the Roaring Boring Alice and, being the perfectionist that I am, asked my mom to edit my paper for me before I handed it in. Unfortunately, she had no idea what a Roaring Boring Alice was until I described them as "lights flashing in the northern sky," or something like that. What I had meant to write was Aurora Borealis, but I'm sure you can understand my confusion. After all, I was only 9 years old.
Well, this week, Andrew and I took a few field trips ourselves in order to break up what has become our monotonous summer schedule of school and work and work and school.
On Wednesday we headed over to the Earth Science Museum on campus to do a homework assignment for Andrew's geology class. He had to do a bunch of random stuff like identifying 10 dinosaurs (difficult since I think there are only 11 dinosaurs in the whole museum, and one of them is just the thigh bone). It was pretty fun to go back to the museum. I don't think I've been there since I was really, really young when we would come and visit campus and reminisce about the times mom went to school here. If my memory serves me correctly, they have improved the museum quite a bit, although it still isn't that terrific. Once they finish going through the 100 tons of bones they have hidden underneath the stadium I think the museum will be pretty cool.
Today we took another field trip. This one, although more spur of the moment, certainly was educational. We were headed home from Macey's and because they are doing construction all around Macey's we couldn't turn left anywhere and ended up going a little farther out of our way to get home than we ordinarily would have. We drove right up to our doctor's office, which happens to be in the same complex as the Orem Community Hospital, which happens to be where we are planning on having our baby.
Now that we have a month and a half until our due date, we have been getting a little bit anxious about the whole process of having a baby. After all, neither one of us has done anything like this before, unless you count acting as midwife to my cat in which case I have helped deliver 12 little babies, including cutting the cord and wiping the face off for the last little runt to pop out.
Anyway, no one that we've talked to has been very helpful. The insurance guys, the ladies at the front desk, the doctor...no one could answer our questions in a way that we felt actually answered our questions. The insurance guys we simply can't seem to communicate with. The doctor directed us to the ladies at the front desk and the ladies at the front desk directed us to the hospital, so today we finally went over there to ask our questions.
We walked in the front doors and walked around in small circles in the hallway looking very lost and discussing where we should direct our questions. A nice nurse walked by and asked us if we needed help. Obviously we did--we were walking around in circles, after all. She was very helpful and walked us around trying to find the answer to our question and didn't leave us on our own until she had put us in the hands of someone who could help us.
Well, that person really did help us. Now we know which door to come to when we think I'm in labor. We know what the rooms are like. We know the approximate cost. We understand our insurance better (Orem Community Hospital is a partner with our insurance company so this lady knew a ton more than we did). We got all pre-registered and paid our down payment on the hospital fee. We even found out how to register for a prenatal class when we were wondering around the hospital with the first nurse.
We came out of there feeling so much more comfortable with everything that is going to happen in the next 2 months. We know how many bills we'll have to pay (four), we know what our insurance will cover, we understand what we've paid to meet our deductible, and we're very glad that we know which door to go in while I'm in labor so that we don't have to wonder around the hallways in small circles looking lost for as long as we did today.
I feel so much smarter this week I think we should plan a field trip or two every week!
I remember once going to a museum in Calgary and writing a report after. The assignment was to write about our favorite exhibit. I chose to write about the Roaring Boring Alice and, being the perfectionist that I am, asked my mom to edit my paper for me before I handed it in. Unfortunately, she had no idea what a Roaring Boring Alice was until I described them as "lights flashing in the northern sky," or something like that. What I had meant to write was Aurora Borealis, but I'm sure you can understand my confusion. After all, I was only 9 years old.
Well, this week, Andrew and I took a few field trips ourselves in order to break up what has become our monotonous summer schedule of school and work and work and school.
On Wednesday we headed over to the Earth Science Museum on campus to do a homework assignment for Andrew's geology class. He had to do a bunch of random stuff like identifying 10 dinosaurs (difficult since I think there are only 11 dinosaurs in the whole museum, and one of them is just the thigh bone). It was pretty fun to go back to the museum. I don't think I've been there since I was really, really young when we would come and visit campus and reminisce about the times mom went to school here. If my memory serves me correctly, they have improved the museum quite a bit, although it still isn't that terrific. Once they finish going through the 100 tons of bones they have hidden underneath the stadium I think the museum will be pretty cool.
Today we took another field trip. This one, although more spur of the moment, certainly was educational. We were headed home from Macey's and because they are doing construction all around Macey's we couldn't turn left anywhere and ended up going a little farther out of our way to get home than we ordinarily would have. We drove right up to our doctor's office, which happens to be in the same complex as the Orem Community Hospital, which happens to be where we are planning on having our baby.
Now that we have a month and a half until our due date, we have been getting a little bit anxious about the whole process of having a baby. After all, neither one of us has done anything like this before, unless you count acting as midwife to my cat in which case I have helped deliver 12 little babies, including cutting the cord and wiping the face off for the last little runt to pop out.
Anyway, no one that we've talked to has been very helpful. The insurance guys, the ladies at the front desk, the doctor...no one could answer our questions in a way that we felt actually answered our questions. The insurance guys we simply can't seem to communicate with. The doctor directed us to the ladies at the front desk and the ladies at the front desk directed us to the hospital, so today we finally went over there to ask our questions.
We walked in the front doors and walked around in small circles in the hallway looking very lost and discussing where we should direct our questions. A nice nurse walked by and asked us if we needed help. Obviously we did--we were walking around in circles, after all. She was very helpful and walked us around trying to find the answer to our question and didn't leave us on our own until she had put us in the hands of someone who could help us.
Well, that person really did help us. Now we know which door to come to when we think I'm in labor. We know what the rooms are like. We know the approximate cost. We understand our insurance better (Orem Community Hospital is a partner with our insurance company so this lady knew a ton more than we did). We got all pre-registered and paid our down payment on the hospital fee. We even found out how to register for a prenatal class when we were wondering around the hospital with the first nurse.
We came out of there feeling so much more comfortable with everything that is going to happen in the next 2 months. We know how many bills we'll have to pay (four), we know what our insurance will cover, we understand what we've paid to meet our deductible, and we're very glad that we know which door to go in while I'm in labor so that we don't have to wonder around the hallways in small circles looking lost for as long as we did today.
I feel so much smarter this week I think we should plan a field trip or two every week!
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Building a relationship of trust
I trust Andrew with almost everything...I still have some reservations about some ballroom lifts, but I did let him lift me while being 6 months pregnant, so that shows a lot of trust, I think. It shows that I trust him (while he's twirling around, mind you) with the life of me and our baby.
However, we discovered something else that might make our trust waiver. Maybe.
The other day I was in the kitchen getting a drink. Andrew was not in the kitchen, but he had left his sandwich on the counter. I really, really, really wanted a bite so I put my water down and went over to his sandwich and commenced eating it, with my back to the doorway, of course, so that he couldn't see what I was doing if he walked in on me.
Andrew walked in, saw my water on the counter and decided that he was thirsty, so he started drinking my water, with his back to me so that if I turned around I couldn't see what he was doing.
I sensed his presence (because he put the cup down on the counter rather noisily), put down the sandwich, turned around and smiled guiltily. Andrew also turned around with a mischievous look on his face.
"Did you drink my water?" I accused first, having heard him replace the cup on the counter.
"Yes..." he said sheepishly.
I laughed, "I was eating your sandwich!"
We both started laughing. Why we didn't just ask each other for a bite or a sip is beyond me. I guess that sneaking each other's food makes us feel rebellious, like we're living life on the edge.
However, we discovered something else that might make our trust waiver. Maybe.
The other day I was in the kitchen getting a drink. Andrew was not in the kitchen, but he had left his sandwich on the counter. I really, really, really wanted a bite so I put my water down and went over to his sandwich and commenced eating it, with my back to the doorway, of course, so that he couldn't see what I was doing if he walked in on me.
Andrew walked in, saw my water on the counter and decided that he was thirsty, so he started drinking my water, with his back to me so that if I turned around I couldn't see what he was doing.
I sensed his presence (because he put the cup down on the counter rather noisily), put down the sandwich, turned around and smiled guiltily. Andrew also turned around with a mischievous look on his face.
"Did you drink my water?" I accused first, having heard him replace the cup on the counter.
"Yes..." he said sheepishly.
I laughed, "I was eating your sandwich!"
We both started laughing. Why we didn't just ask each other for a bite or a sip is beyond me. I guess that sneaking each other's food makes us feel rebellious, like we're living life on the edge.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
You're a Roller!
"I suppose you're wondering," Andrew said in a know-it-all voice, "Why I'm bringing butter to the table."
He talked me into getting some corn on the cob at the grocery store during our last shopping trip so that's what we had for dinner tonight.
"Not really," I said, "You're going to roll your corn in it."
He gasped, "You're a roller, too?!?"
"Yes," I admitted, guilt-free. My family often rolls our corn on the cob in butter--not that we have corn on the cob that frequently, but when we do, odds are that someone will get butter and chances are at least some members of the family will roll their corn directly on the butter.
"That's awesome!" Andrew said emphatically.
"Why?" I asked, "It's normal."
"Well, my dad's a roller but my mom is not so..."
Apparently it caused a little bit of conflict early on in their marriage and she has since chosen to ignore the rolling while continuing to spread the butter on her corn with a knife. My guess is that it didn't cause too much conflict because how often does anyone eat corn on the cob? It's definitely a seasonal food and I know of no one who eats it on a regular basis.
We certainly don't. This is the first time we've had it together and we've been married for almost a year and a half.
I suppose Karen's way is a little more civilized, but really since corn is "animal" food, what's the point of being civilized about it at all? It's simply a messy food. If you eat corn on the cob you expect to get greasy and end up with little bits of corn all over your face, plate, and stuck all in your teeth. We definitely got messy today.
He talked me into getting some corn on the cob at the grocery store during our last shopping trip so that's what we had for dinner tonight.
"Not really," I said, "You're going to roll your corn in it."
He gasped, "You're a roller, too?!?"
"Yes," I admitted, guilt-free. My family often rolls our corn on the cob in butter--not that we have corn on the cob that frequently, but when we do, odds are that someone will get butter and chances are at least some members of the family will roll their corn directly on the butter.
"That's awesome!" Andrew said emphatically.
"Why?" I asked, "It's normal."
"Well, my dad's a roller but my mom is not so..."
Apparently it caused a little bit of conflict early on in their marriage and she has since chosen to ignore the rolling while continuing to spread the butter on her corn with a knife. My guess is that it didn't cause too much conflict because how often does anyone eat corn on the cob? It's definitely a seasonal food and I know of no one who eats it on a regular basis.
We certainly don't. This is the first time we've had it together and we've been married for almost a year and a half.
I suppose Karen's way is a little more civilized, but really since corn is "animal" food, what's the point of being civilized about it at all? It's simply a messy food. If you eat corn on the cob you expect to get greasy and end up with little bits of corn all over your face, plate, and stuck all in your teeth. We definitely got messy today.
Andrew contemplating his next bite
We don't have those little corn holders so Andrew attempted to hold his corn cob balanced between two forks. Somehow he managed to do it, but he ended up a lot more messy than I did--and I just used my fingers.
A taste of Japan
My little sister doesn't think I'm cool anymore. My life is over. She downright refused to hang out with me (and my mom and brother) on Friday night. Can you believe?
We did cool stuff, too. She refused to join in on the fun. Oddly enough, some members of Andrew's sisters have been suffering from the same syndrome. The I'm-bored-but-don't-want-to-do-anything syndrome. They've been out of school for about 2 days, so I have a feeling this is going to be a long summer.
Anyway, Friday night Andrew had had to work late, so mom and David came to campus and we all took advantage of some free, but fun, activities.
First, we went to David Dibble's "The Barn Project" reception. He is doing a mural on his family's barn for his master's project. I think it's really quite cool--but then, I grew up thinking that the "smiley face" barn was cool.
David Dibble's family barn will be so much cooler than this. Trust me. Plus, there was also free pie at the reception--even Andrew came down to enjoy some pie.
Next we went to see some of Japan's Hakuho performing troupe in concert. They had three people performing on the koto, shamisen, and the drums. I thought it was really cool.
When I was a little girl, we had a Japanese exchange student. I learned a lot from her--okay, mostly I learned how to make some knotted bracelets, how to count to 5 in Japanese, and how to eat with chopsticks. That's pretty much all I learned, but not bad considering she didn't live with us very long and I was very young. Her name was Akiko, and I adored her.
I also took Japanese in high school. I learned a little bit more of the language there, but...not very much more. I had a pretty bad attitude about the whole thing. It might have something to do that most of the sentences we learned were lame-o and I didn't agree with the teacher's method of teaching at all. I endured drills, such as the following:
Mr. Park: I am a bicycle.
Class: I am a bicycle.
Mr. Park: I hate cats.
Class: I hate cats.
Mr. Park: Cats are stupid.
Class: Cats are stupid. (Me, in my head: Class is stupid)
In short, I thought our homework was stupid, the class was stupid, and the teacher, I'm sorry to say, I simply could not stand. Had we learned more about the language and less about his mission--and how he hated cats--I think that I would have enjoyed the class more.
However, I can now successfully count to 10 in Japanese (which means I can also count above 10), and have a few other phrases that I thought were helpful and have held onto over the years. I can also still remember some of the alphabet, but certainly not all of both katakana and hiragana. I'll always regret not applying myself more...but I suppose it's not too late. I can always take it up again.
Anyway, the concert was very good, I thought. The auditorium was packed. People were sitting all over the floor; I'm sure it was rather against the fire code.
My mom went to the workshop that they did the day before so she could tell us some very interesting things about the instruments and music. They had to replace the ivory bridges on the koto with plastic ones because, although you can bring ivory into the US, you can't take ivory out of the US. They had to replace the leather on the drums with synthetic material because it is just too dry here in Utah. (Their poor voices were also suffering from the low humidity here). The largest koto has 80 strings but is now kept in a museum because it is too difficult for anyone to play.
I can't imagine playing the koto with only 13 strings. I have a hard enough time with 4 strings, I don't think I could add anymore. To me, it sounds like the koto is a whole bunch of instruments being played together--I'm not sure how one person keeps track of it all!
Anyway, Josie, here is a video clip for you to see the utter coolness you missed out on. Sorry it's so random but my camera batteries were shot so the clips lasted only as long as my camera would stay on, which at times was only a few seconds.
We did cool stuff, too. She refused to join in on the fun. Oddly enough, some members of Andrew's sisters have been suffering from the same syndrome. The I'm-bored-but-don't-want-to-do-anything syndrome. They've been out of school for about 2 days, so I have a feeling this is going to be a long summer.
Anyway, Friday night Andrew had had to work late, so mom and David came to campus and we all took advantage of some free, but fun, activities.
First, we went to David Dibble's "The Barn Project" reception. He is doing a mural on his family's barn for his master's project. I think it's really quite cool--but then, I grew up thinking that the "smiley face" barn was cool.
David Dibble's family barn will be so much cooler than this. Trust me. Plus, there was also free pie at the reception--even Andrew came down to enjoy some pie.
Next we went to see some of Japan's Hakuho performing troupe in concert. They had three people performing on the koto, shamisen, and the drums. I thought it was really cool.When I was a little girl, we had a Japanese exchange student. I learned a lot from her--okay, mostly I learned how to make some knotted bracelets, how to count to 5 in Japanese, and how to eat with chopsticks. That's pretty much all I learned, but not bad considering she didn't live with us very long and I was very young. Her name was Akiko, and I adored her.
I also took Japanese in high school. I learned a little bit more of the language there, but...not very much more. I had a pretty bad attitude about the whole thing. It might have something to do that most of the sentences we learned were lame-o and I didn't agree with the teacher's method of teaching at all. I endured drills, such as the following:
Mr. Park: I am a bicycle.
Class: I am a bicycle.
Mr. Park: I hate cats.
Class: I hate cats.
Mr. Park: Cats are stupid.
Class: Cats are stupid. (Me, in my head: Class is stupid)
In short, I thought our homework was stupid, the class was stupid, and the teacher, I'm sorry to say, I simply could not stand. Had we learned more about the language and less about his mission--and how he hated cats--I think that I would have enjoyed the class more.
However, I can now successfully count to 10 in Japanese (which means I can also count above 10), and have a few other phrases that I thought were helpful and have held onto over the years. I can also still remember some of the alphabet, but certainly not all of both katakana and hiragana. I'll always regret not applying myself more...but I suppose it's not too late. I can always take it up again.
Anyway, the concert was very good, I thought. The auditorium was packed. People were sitting all over the floor; I'm sure it was rather against the fire code.
My mom went to the workshop that they did the day before so she could tell us some very interesting things about the instruments and music. They had to replace the ivory bridges on the koto with plastic ones because, although you can bring ivory into the US, you can't take ivory out of the US. They had to replace the leather on the drums with synthetic material because it is just too dry here in Utah. (Their poor voices were also suffering from the low humidity here). The largest koto has 80 strings but is now kept in a museum because it is too difficult for anyone to play.
I can't imagine playing the koto with only 13 strings. I have a hard enough time with 4 strings, I don't think I could add anymore. To me, it sounds like the koto is a whole bunch of instruments being played together--I'm not sure how one person keeps track of it all!
Anyway, Josie, here is a video clip for you to see the utter coolness you missed out on. Sorry it's so random but my camera batteries were shot so the clips lasted only as long as my camera would stay on, which at times was only a few seconds.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Memorial Day Weekend
Where, oh, where did the week go? I'm not really sure how it happened that I didn't blog about anything all week. Our week certainly was busy. I probably slept through all my blogging time.
Anyway, this past weekend we had a "long" weekend. We worked late on Friday, early on Saturday, and again on Monday...so it didn't really feel like that long of a weekend anyway. This coming weekend we don't have to work on Saturday at all, so although we worked late this evening, it will feel like a longer weekend than last--if that makes any sense at all.
Memorial Day always makes me puzzle a little bit. I just find the whole tradition a little bit odd. Not that I have any problem honoring the soldiers that have fallen fighting for freedoms. I grew up doing that, too...just on Remembrance Day...and we didn't decorate graves by the masses or have picnics and play frisbee at the cemetery. It is just a little weird for me that all of a sudden, seemingly out of the blue (because I never can remember when Memorial Day is coming--I didn't grow up with it) the graveyard is alive with the vibrant colors of flowers, wreaths, and little windmill things.
But a holiday is a holiday, so it must be celebrated.
On Sunday, we had dinner at my family's house. I think I ate almost the whole pot of mashed potatoes by myself--I used to do that when I was 10 but haven't for a while. I like to think that Rachel ate most of them. We played games well into the evening and also got to look at some of my dad's new stained glass projects. I think that they are really good and that he should go to an art show and sell them...but, it's hard to part with something you created. We are running out of windows though, so we'll have to do something eventually.
The macaw on the left is the one he just finished. He made the one on the right a while ago. It's not the best picture, but I took it, so that's understandable.
Anyway, this past weekend we had a "long" weekend. We worked late on Friday, early on Saturday, and again on Monday...so it didn't really feel like that long of a weekend anyway. This coming weekend we don't have to work on Saturday at all, so although we worked late this evening, it will feel like a longer weekend than last--if that makes any sense at all.
Memorial Day always makes me puzzle a little bit. I just find the whole tradition a little bit odd. Not that I have any problem honoring the soldiers that have fallen fighting for freedoms. I grew up doing that, too...just on Remembrance Day...and we didn't decorate graves by the masses or have picnics and play frisbee at the cemetery. It is just a little weird for me that all of a sudden, seemingly out of the blue (because I never can remember when Memorial Day is coming--I didn't grow up with it) the graveyard is alive with the vibrant colors of flowers, wreaths, and little windmill things.
But a holiday is a holiday, so it must be celebrated.
On Sunday, we had dinner at my family's house. I think I ate almost the whole pot of mashed potatoes by myself--I used to do that when I was 10 but haven't for a while. I like to think that Rachel ate most of them. We played games well into the evening and also got to look at some of my dad's new stained glass projects. I think that they are really good and that he should go to an art show and sell them...but, it's hard to part with something you created. We are running out of windows though, so we'll have to do something eventually.
The macaw on the left is the one he just finished. He made the one on the right a while ago. It's not the best picture, but I took it, so that's understandable.
The rose he recently finished
For his next project he's working on a 3-D frog. I think that will be really cool to see when it's finished!
On Monday, after working, we went to see Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End with Andrew's family. I was having a hard day and was pretty emotional the whole movie. Apparently a lot of people didn't like it, but it made me cry and I thought the ending was rather touching (the part after the credits, not before).
We then went and had a nice barbecue dinner at Andrew's parent's house.
It was nice to not have to think of anything to make for dinner two days in a row! I love it when that happens!
We then went and had a nice barbecue dinner at Andrew's parent's house.
It was nice to not have to think of anything to make for dinner two days in a row! I love it when that happens!
Friday, June 01, 2007
Supernero
I invented a new word this week. Andrew thinks it is ingenious simply because it happens to be the name of a Roman emperor.
He was talking to me all about computer stuff and I was mocking him in return. It's not that I'm not interested in computer stuff, it's just that I don't think he knows how little I understand of what he says. Sometimes when it's really late at night and he's trying to explain some macro to me or something like that I simply have to tell him to stop talking. My poor little brain can't handle it. In the morning when he explains it again (as he invariably will), and gives me a little tutorial of it, I usually get it. But late at night, we can't discuss computers. I do much better discussing the weather if it's past 11:00 than anything else.
So, there he was...telling me something about something and so I mocked him.
"You're my nero," I teased.
We were chatting on IM because he wasn't in the same vacinity as me, but I imagine that he would have thrown me a puzzled look had we been in the same room.
"Can I be your Ceasar, too?" he asked.
"It's a combination of nerd and hero. Nero." I explained.
Ever since then, he's been wanting to know how I ever thought of that word. Like it's difficult. Breakfast + Lunch = Brunch. Lion + Tiger = Liger. Nerd + Hero = Nero. It's as simple as that. No substantial amount of creativity necessary. Of course, I had to decide which word would come first in the portmanteau and which would come second. Putting hero first makes "herd" and that simply is not a good insult. Nero, on the other hand was perfect. That only took me a few split seconds to come up with because when flinging an insult, time is of the essence.
Well, that was on Wednesday, and ever since then we've been defining each other as neros.
I say, "I didn't know that the car wasn't unlocked." Andrew replies, "How would you parse that?" I shoot back, "Nero."
I say, "That would be cataclysmic," and then we discuss the use of cataclysmic verses cataclysmal. I look them up on the dictionary (yes, on the dictionary...it's online). That makes us both neros. The fact, however, that we then did a google fight to see which one is more "common" makes us superneros. Cataclysmic is more common, by the way...according to Google.
Nero, I think, is a good term because it is a positive insult, if such a thing can exist. Nerd has never been a real insult in our house. In fact, we enjoy the fact that we look words up in the dictionary for fun. However, calling someone a nerd and a hero using the same word makes being called a nerd ever so much better. That's what we're all about in our house, heroic acts of nerdiness.
He was talking to me all about computer stuff and I was mocking him in return. It's not that I'm not interested in computer stuff, it's just that I don't think he knows how little I understand of what he says. Sometimes when it's really late at night and he's trying to explain some macro to me or something like that I simply have to tell him to stop talking. My poor little brain can't handle it. In the morning when he explains it again (as he invariably will), and gives me a little tutorial of it, I usually get it. But late at night, we can't discuss computers. I do much better discussing the weather if it's past 11:00 than anything else.
So, there he was...telling me something about something and so I mocked him.
"You're my nero," I teased.
We were chatting on IM because he wasn't in the same vacinity as me, but I imagine that he would have thrown me a puzzled look had we been in the same room.
"Can I be your Ceasar, too?" he asked.
"It's a combination of nerd and hero. Nero." I explained.
Ever since then, he's been wanting to know how I ever thought of that word. Like it's difficult. Breakfast + Lunch = Brunch. Lion + Tiger = Liger. Nerd + Hero = Nero. It's as simple as that. No substantial amount of creativity necessary. Of course, I had to decide which word would come first in the portmanteau and which would come second. Putting hero first makes "herd" and that simply is not a good insult. Nero, on the other hand was perfect. That only took me a few split seconds to come up with because when flinging an insult, time is of the essence.
Well, that was on Wednesday, and ever since then we've been defining each other as neros.
I say, "I didn't know that the car wasn't unlocked." Andrew replies, "How would you parse that?" I shoot back, "Nero."
I say, "That would be cataclysmic," and then we discuss the use of cataclysmic verses cataclysmal. I look them up on the dictionary (yes, on the dictionary...it's online). That makes us both neros. The fact, however, that we then did a google fight to see which one is more "common" makes us superneros. Cataclysmic is more common, by the way...according to Google.
Nero, I think, is a good term because it is a positive insult, if such a thing can exist. Nerd has never been a real insult in our house. In fact, we enjoy the fact that we look words up in the dictionary for fun. However, calling someone a nerd and a hero using the same word makes being called a nerd ever so much better. That's what we're all about in our house, heroic acts of nerdiness.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Bonafide
It's official. I'm now a university graduate. I know it. BYU knows it. And now the rest of the world can now it, too.
Before I had only pretended to graduate. I finished all of my coursework in August 2005 and I walked in the big ceremony and had my name read and shook hands and had my picture taken.
I had even applied to a few grad schools. Even though I was never "declined," my application was never accepted, either. At the University of Western Ontario, I couldn't pay my application fee because they only take money order, cash (in Canadian), or a check (in Canadian funds). For some reason I could not get any of those and every bank I went to down here turned me down...apparently American banks don't keep a stash foreign currencies. Who knew?
My situation at Clarion University is even stranger. I completed my application and sent it in. They sent it back completely unopened explaining that their program was full and how I was welcome to apply to get on the list for their upcoming year. I followed their instructions. Again, my application was returned unopened. I called the number they sent in my denial letter and asked about what happened. The lady I talked to said to write a letter explaining that I had talked to her, to send in my application again, and that I should be put on "the list."
Alas, my application came back to me again. Untouched. I was a little miffed because I did graduate magna cum laude, after all. Shouldn't they at least be a little interested in me? Apparently not.
So, I decided to stick around here and wait for Andrew to come home. I took Italian and a few other classes just for fun, as well as completed an internship that I loathed... When he came home we hit it off, and ended up married.
I guess all the struggles I had trying to get into grad school were to convince me to stay here and wait around.
And so, after I was married I continued taking a class every semester, delaying graduation over and over again.
This confused BYU to no end. I applied for graduation finally and officially for this April using my married name. Somehow I ended up in the program three times: twice with my maiden name and once with my married name.
I thought that for sure they would put my married name on my diploma since I applied for April 2007 under the name "Nancy Heiss."
Well, my diploma came in the mail the other day. It says "Nancy Layton." I'm still waiting to see if I get 2 more diplomas for the other Nancy Layton and Nancy Heiss that graduated along with me.
Before I had only pretended to graduate. I finished all of my coursework in August 2005 and I walked in the big ceremony and had my name read and shook hands and had my picture taken.
I had even applied to a few grad schools. Even though I was never "declined," my application was never accepted, either. At the University of Western Ontario, I couldn't pay my application fee because they only take money order, cash (in Canadian), or a check (in Canadian funds). For some reason I could not get any of those and every bank I went to down here turned me down...apparently American banks don't keep a stash foreign currencies. Who knew?
My situation at Clarion University is even stranger. I completed my application and sent it in. They sent it back completely unopened explaining that their program was full and how I was welcome to apply to get on the list for their upcoming year. I followed their instructions. Again, my application was returned unopened. I called the number they sent in my denial letter and asked about what happened. The lady I talked to said to write a letter explaining that I had talked to her, to send in my application again, and that I should be put on "the list."
Alas, my application came back to me again. Untouched. I was a little miffed because I did graduate magna cum laude, after all. Shouldn't they at least be a little interested in me? Apparently not.
So, I decided to stick around here and wait for Andrew to come home. I took Italian and a few other classes just for fun, as well as completed an internship that I loathed... When he came home we hit it off, and ended up married.
I guess all the struggles I had trying to get into grad school were to convince me to stay here and wait around.
And so, after I was married I continued taking a class every semester, delaying graduation over and over again.
This confused BYU to no end. I applied for graduation finally and officially for this April using my married name. Somehow I ended up in the program three times: twice with my maiden name and once with my married name.
I thought that for sure they would put my married name on my diploma since I applied for April 2007 under the name "Nancy Heiss."
Well, my diploma came in the mail the other day. It says "Nancy Layton." I'm still waiting to see if I get 2 more diplomas for the other Nancy Layton and Nancy Heiss that graduated along with me.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Work, work, work
Today I was thinking about a song by the BeeGees: Lonely Days.
Lonely days, lonely nights! Where would I be without my [husband]?
Repeat
Repeat
Repeat
Repeat
And that is pretty much the whole song. Seriously...except instead of husband it says woman.
Here is my poor husband at work in the InfoCommons in the HBLL. While it is true that he has been trying to work more in order for us to save up for the upcoming baby, at times I think he adds a few too many shifts. He's just too nice.
This week alone, for example, he worked 45 hours, including working until midnight on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday...and then all day Saturday. He's also working all day Monday, so there goes our long weekend. In order to compensate for the many shifts he's picked up, we spent yesterday morning together (at IKEA) and he doesn't have to work next Saturday...so that will be nice.
We also went shopping last night at midnight because we weren't sure we would have time to today since we still haven't gone to the temple yet this month! And we still have another million things that we need to do today.
I don't really mind him working...it's just that sometimes things get rather lonely. I was really excited that my mom phoned yesterday to invite me to hang out with her last night. I'm not sure that I could have handled another night being alone until midnight. Talk about solitary confinement.
It's really not that bad. It's just been pretty crazy at his job recently. There are quite a few sick people this week, one kid is stranded in Texas (I'm not sure what the story is there), and a few others just decided to take off for the long weekend. Basically, we were the only ones silly enough to stick around, so...we are just going to work like beavers (I'll be working today and Monday as well).
Andrew has worked as a Multimedia Lab Assistant and Computer proctor since he's been back from his mission. Before his mission though, he was trained as a GenRef/InfoCommons assistant so since they are having personnel crunches this summer, he's back working at GenRef/InfoCommons as well.
At times this causes him to have identity crises. See, GenRef wears a green vest, Computer Proctors wear the blue vest, and the Multimediea Lab Assistants wear the maroon vests. Often Andrew's shift will work something like this: 2 hours in the Multimedia lab, 2 hours at the Information Desk, 2 hours at the Computer Support desk...but he doesn't have any breaks in between so he forgets where he's supposed to be working when and which vest he should have on.
Lonely days, lonely nights! Where would I be without my [husband]?
Repeat
Repeat
Repeat
Repeat
And that is pretty much the whole song. Seriously...except instead of husband it says woman.
Here is my poor husband at work in the InfoCommons in the HBLL. While it is true that he has been trying to work more in order for us to save up for the upcoming baby, at times I think he adds a few too many shifts. He's just too nice.
This week alone, for example, he worked 45 hours, including working until midnight on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday...and then all day Saturday. He's also working all day Monday, so there goes our long weekend. In order to compensate for the many shifts he's picked up, we spent yesterday morning together (at IKEA) and he doesn't have to work next Saturday...so that will be nice.
We also went shopping last night at midnight because we weren't sure we would have time to today since we still haven't gone to the temple yet this month! And we still have another million things that we need to do today.
I don't really mind him working...it's just that sometimes things get rather lonely. I was really excited that my mom phoned yesterday to invite me to hang out with her last night. I'm not sure that I could have handled another night being alone until midnight. Talk about solitary confinement.
It's really not that bad. It's just been pretty crazy at his job recently. There are quite a few sick people this week, one kid is stranded in Texas (I'm not sure what the story is there), and a few others just decided to take off for the long weekend. Basically, we were the only ones silly enough to stick around, so...we are just going to work like beavers (I'll be working today and Monday as well).
Andrew has worked as a Multimedia Lab Assistant and Computer proctor since he's been back from his mission. Before his mission though, he was trained as a GenRef/InfoCommons assistant so since they are having personnel crunches this summer, he's back working at GenRef/InfoCommons as well.
At times this causes him to have identity crises. See, GenRef wears a green vest, Computer Proctors wear the blue vest, and the Multimediea Lab Assistants wear the maroon vests. Often Andrew's shift will work something like this: 2 hours in the Multimedia lab, 2 hours at the Information Desk, 2 hours at the Computer Support desk...but he doesn't have any breaks in between so he forgets where he's supposed to be working when and which vest he should have on.
Andrew wearing all three vests at once. He's so cool!
One day, he was in the blue vest (that means he was playing the role of a Computer Proctor). He was sitting at his desk wondering where the GenRef person was when another blue vest dude showed up.
"What are you doing here?" he asked Andrew, who had been working at that shift for the past 20 minutes (the other guy was 20 minutes late), "I'm working here today."
"No," Andrew said, "I'm on the schedule until midnight tonight. I'm pretty sure I'm working here today."
"That's really weird because I'm on the schedule to work today."
"Well, that's really weird because I'm on the schedule to work today."
That went on for a while until Andrew said, "Well, if you're working here, who's working GenRef...?"
It was Andrew. He was supposed to be in a green vest at the green vest spot, not at the blue vest spot in a blue vest. He was kind of embarrassed, but really, who can blame him for getting confused since he works all three positions virtually everyday.
Did I mention that Andrew is also taking classes so that he can graduate on time? This term he's taking Geology (with Patrick) and Advanced Writing. Next term he'll be taking a religion class, American Heritage, and bowling, in addition to working and being a first-time dad. But I'm sure he'll do a great job and come out on top of all of his classes. He always manages to do that, even under the most extreme stress.
"What are you doing here?" he asked Andrew, who had been working at that shift for the past 20 minutes (the other guy was 20 minutes late), "I'm working here today."
"No," Andrew said, "I'm on the schedule until midnight tonight. I'm pretty sure I'm working here today."
"That's really weird because I'm on the schedule to work today."
"Well, that's really weird because I'm on the schedule to work today."
That went on for a while until Andrew said, "Well, if you're working here, who's working GenRef...?"
It was Andrew. He was supposed to be in a green vest at the green vest spot, not at the blue vest spot in a blue vest. He was kind of embarrassed, but really, who can blame him for getting confused since he works all three positions virtually everyday.
Did I mention that Andrew is also taking classes so that he can graduate on time? This term he's taking Geology (with Patrick) and Advanced Writing. Next term he'll be taking a religion class, American Heritage, and bowling, in addition to working and being a first-time dad. But I'm sure he'll do a great job and come out on top of all of his classes. He always manages to do that, even under the most extreme stress.
Even the best plans...
Even though we could have slept in today, we decided last night that we would get up at a decent hour and be very productive.
First, for breakfast we were going to make pancakes and bacon or something because we were out of milk. Then we were going to do laundry because Andrew was plum out of socks. We probably would have thrown in a shower. And then we were going to try to get my tape player to work so I could transcribe some tapes. We were planning on working on our Jordan book and trying to get some tricky CSS stuff to work on a website Andrew is making for work.
Well, I woke up before the alarm...which I think was set for 8:30 or something (still a little sleep-in, but not terrible). Apparently it was so nice and sunny out that even Andrew woke up before the alarm. I kind of rolled over, squinted at the clock, and tried to read the time. I failed.
Mark my words! One day my eyes will work first thing in the morning before I add anything to them (like contacts or glasses).
Anyway, I plopped my head back on the pillow and asked Andrew what time it was.
"It's almost 8:30," he said.
I then asked him what time the alarm was set for.
Just after I said that, there was a tremendous BOOM! I jumped. Andrew looked at the clock to tell me what time the alarm was set for, but the power had gone out so he said,
"I would, but the power is out."
It was a good thing he told me because I couldn't see the numbers on the clock at all so I wouldn't have known...until the fan stopped moving, that is. Or I got out of bed and tried to turn on a light. Or tried to do pretty much anything (we are so dependent on electricity).
So, our morning was pretty much ruined. Breakfast was impossible. First of all, we had no milk, so that means no cereal. And even if we had milk, we wanted to limit our access to the fridge. The last time a transformer blew up we didn't have power for quite a few hours...and we were assuming, by the loudness of the explosion, that a transformer blew up again. We couldn't cook breakfast either because our stove is electric.
We couldn't shower because there was no light in our bathroom, and our water heater is electric.
We couldn't do laundry because that, too is electric...which means that we had to come up with socks for Andrew by the time he had to be at work.
We couldn't fiddle with the tape deck because it also had no power.
And we couldn't use the computer because...you guessed it. No power.
So, we did the only sane thing imaginable and went to IKEA. It had to be done. Andrew has been trying to get me there for days (and it only opened on Wednesday).
I conceded that we may as well go because we had decided we would try curtains to lower our utilities...and they sell 99 cent breakfast. We needed curtains, we needed breakfast. It was a win-win situation.
We got ready to go (foregoing the shower) and left for IKEA. Just as we pulled out of our PUD, we saw the electricity dudes already hard at work. Whether they caused the explosion or are just really quick responders is left unknown.
The ride to IKEA was fairly smooth...now that we have 4 tires again. It was remarkably smooth, actually. I had to keep reminding Andrew to slow it down.
IKEA was wonderful. It's kind of like sneaking into Europe a little bit...only different because it is still American. We had to laugh at all the oddities we encountered.
For example, as we turned down the road for IKEA (which is right off the freeway), there was a big flashing sign saying, "Event traffic only!"
The road was all sectioned off and it was crawling with police.
And then we were directed into parking stalls by workers wearing orange vests.
It was pretty funny. I couldn't help but wonder if now all Americans think that they experienced a little taste of socialism at IKEA. That isn't what socialism is, but I could see an American thinking it was...like that.
Well, IKEA is a pretty cool store. We got there before they opened and headed up to the cafe to get our breakfast. It was yummy. Andrew wasn't fond of the potatoes because they had red peppers in them and I wasn't fond of the eggs because they were airplane eggs--but it was cheap, and it was breakfast.
When the store officially opened we went off and explored the displays. IKEA's displays were neat. They sell cool stuff--some of which is expensive, some of which is within our budget. We found some curtains and looked at a lot of other things.
My favorite were the quilt covers. I am so in love with quilt covers. One day we're going to get one. They are just so cool because then you don't have all that fuss about sheets...and your quilt doesn't get all nasty from never being washed (quilts are a pain to wash). We'll definitely go back in an IKEA some day and get some.
I snapped this picture over my shoulder...I think it was a lucky shot
When we got home, we immediately started putting up curtains, even though we had electricity and should have been doing other things. Actually, I mostly did laundry while Andrew mostly did the curtains...but I helped him a little, too. We only got them up in the living room, but I really think it made a difference in how hot our house got today.
Things at IKEA are cheaper than you might find at other places because they are do-it-yourself projects.
We had to measure, cut, and "hem" them ourselves. Hemming only involved ironing this cool "easy hem" stuff onto the curtain so that it wouldn't fray...it was pretty easy.
We're excited to get curtains up in the rest of the windows. Oddly enough, the rods in our bedroom and the living room match: there is only one rod. We had been looking at getting a white "back" curtain and a colorful "front" curtain, but decided that the ones we got were overall cheaper. Except, we really wanted something brighter for the baby's room...so we got a white "back" curtain and a yellow "front" curtain (you'll understand when you see it).
Oddly enough, the baby's room's curtain rod is different: it has 2 rods for 2 different rows of curtains to hang. We decided we're simply inspired. Once we get them up, we'll show some pictures so that it makes more sense. According to this website, a double curtain rod is used to "achieve a layered look" so hopefully that's what we end up achieving.
First, for breakfast we were going to make pancakes and bacon or something because we were out of milk. Then we were going to do laundry because Andrew was plum out of socks. We probably would have thrown in a shower. And then we were going to try to get my tape player to work so I could transcribe some tapes. We were planning on working on our Jordan book and trying to get some tricky CSS stuff to work on a website Andrew is making for work.
Well, I woke up before the alarm...which I think was set for 8:30 or something (still a little sleep-in, but not terrible). Apparently it was so nice and sunny out that even Andrew woke up before the alarm. I kind of rolled over, squinted at the clock, and tried to read the time. I failed.
Mark my words! One day my eyes will work first thing in the morning before I add anything to them (like contacts or glasses).
Anyway, I plopped my head back on the pillow and asked Andrew what time it was.
"It's almost 8:30," he said.
I then asked him what time the alarm was set for.
Just after I said that, there was a tremendous BOOM! I jumped. Andrew looked at the clock to tell me what time the alarm was set for, but the power had gone out so he said,
"I would, but the power is out."
It was a good thing he told me because I couldn't see the numbers on the clock at all so I wouldn't have known...until the fan stopped moving, that is. Or I got out of bed and tried to turn on a light. Or tried to do pretty much anything (we are so dependent on electricity).
So, our morning was pretty much ruined. Breakfast was impossible. First of all, we had no milk, so that means no cereal. And even if we had milk, we wanted to limit our access to the fridge. The last time a transformer blew up we didn't have power for quite a few hours...and we were assuming, by the loudness of the explosion, that a transformer blew up again. We couldn't cook breakfast either because our stove is electric.
We couldn't shower because there was no light in our bathroom, and our water heater is electric.
We couldn't do laundry because that, too is electric...which means that we had to come up with socks for Andrew by the time he had to be at work.
We couldn't fiddle with the tape deck because it also had no power.
And we couldn't use the computer because...you guessed it. No power.
So, we did the only sane thing imaginable and went to IKEA. It had to be done. Andrew has been trying to get me there for days (and it only opened on Wednesday).
I conceded that we may as well go because we had decided we would try curtains to lower our utilities...and they sell 99 cent breakfast. We needed curtains, we needed breakfast. It was a win-win situation.
We got ready to go (foregoing the shower) and left for IKEA. Just as we pulled out of our PUD, we saw the electricity dudes already hard at work. Whether they caused the explosion or are just really quick responders is left unknown.
The ride to IKEA was fairly smooth...now that we have 4 tires again. It was remarkably smooth, actually. I had to keep reminding Andrew to slow it down.
IKEA was wonderful. It's kind of like sneaking into Europe a little bit...only different because it is still American. We had to laugh at all the oddities we encountered.
For example, as we turned down the road for IKEA (which is right off the freeway), there was a big flashing sign saying, "Event traffic only!"
The road was all sectioned off and it was crawling with police.
And then we were directed into parking stalls by workers wearing orange vests.
It was pretty funny. I couldn't help but wonder if now all Americans think that they experienced a little taste of socialism at IKEA. That isn't what socialism is, but I could see an American thinking it was...like that.
Well, IKEA is a pretty cool store. We got there before they opened and headed up to the cafe to get our breakfast. It was yummy. Andrew wasn't fond of the potatoes because they had red peppers in them and I wasn't fond of the eggs because they were airplane eggs--but it was cheap, and it was breakfast.
When the store officially opened we went off and explored the displays. IKEA's displays were neat. They sell cool stuff--some of which is expensive, some of which is within our budget. We found some curtains and looked at a lot of other things.
My favorite were the quilt covers. I am so in love with quilt covers. One day we're going to get one. They are just so cool because then you don't have all that fuss about sheets...and your quilt doesn't get all nasty from never being washed (quilts are a pain to wash). We'll definitely go back in an IKEA some day and get some.
I snapped this picture over my shoulder...I think it was a lucky shotWhen we got home, we immediately started putting up curtains, even though we had electricity and should have been doing other things. Actually, I mostly did laundry while Andrew mostly did the curtains...but I helped him a little, too. We only got them up in the living room, but I really think it made a difference in how hot our house got today.
Things at IKEA are cheaper than you might find at other places because they are do-it-yourself projects.
We had to measure, cut, and "hem" them ourselves. Hemming only involved ironing this cool "easy hem" stuff onto the curtain so that it wouldn't fray...it was pretty easy.
We're excited to get curtains up in the rest of the windows. Oddly enough, the rods in our bedroom and the living room match: there is only one rod. We had been looking at getting a white "back" curtain and a colorful "front" curtain, but decided that the ones we got were overall cheaper. Except, we really wanted something brighter for the baby's room...so we got a white "back" curtain and a yellow "front" curtain (you'll understand when you see it).
Oddly enough, the baby's room's curtain rod is different: it has 2 rods for 2 different rows of curtains to hang. We decided we're simply inspired. Once we get them up, we'll show some pictures so that it makes more sense. According to this website, a double curtain rod is used to "achieve a layered look" so hopefully that's what we end up achieving.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)