Let My Cameron Go

“He’ll keep calling me… he’ll keep calling until I come over…”

I had a dream last night that I was invited to go to a Christmas cookie exchange party with friends from church.  For some reason I was acting very rudely at the party - insulting the other women, their children, their husbands, their husband's jobs, and just generally being bratty.  One sweet ward sister tried to joke me out of it, and catching the hint, I went by myself to an empty room and thought:

"Look - don't ask me to participate in your stupid crap, if you don't like the way I do it."

I woke up and thought, hey!  What a great motto.  I think I'll go through life that way.

Then I thought, well... maybe not.  Cameron's kind of a loser.  He killed the car.  But on the other hand, he can do a great "George Peterson" voice.

(And now Ferris Bueller's Day Off is on TV. WEIRD.)

On another topic... has anyone ever checked into those real estate programs they advertise on TV, like the tax foreclosure sales guy, John Beck? The one where they flash pictures of houses for $700 and a regular-Joe-Schmoe-looking guy says, "I bought this house for $700 and sold it at market value, and now I own a tropical fish tank store that I bought from the profits"? Even at 4:00 in the morning, those advertisements sound too good to be true - but at the same time, I find myself interested in real estate investing.

I was walking home Saturday from the DAR thing I went to, and noticed a little overgrown piece of property with a tiny boarded-up house on it, and I thought, "I want that." Every time we drive down the street in a cruddy part of town, I'll see the ugliest, most neglected little pieces of property and think the same thing. My husband thinks I'm strange. It's not that I want to LIVE in them - heavens no - but buy them, fix them up and sell them, yes. I would absolutely love to do that. It's the fun of taking something crappy and making it into something nice.

That, and owning some dirt. I'm all about the dirt. For the chickens, you know.

Assistant Cub Scout Den Leader.

(new church calling)

This first one is genealogy-related, so if you'll be bored to tears, just skip it: One family on Neenaw's family tree is named Steinhilber.  The family came to the United States in 1878, when mom Lena joined the Church and brought her girls with her from Germany.  They left father Johannes and sons Johann and Adam in the middle of the night, so the story goes.

(The book is quite anti-LDS and funny - Brigham Young is portrayed as an unpatriotic, power-hungry, land-grubbing ogre, and it's from this book I learned the phrase "Avenging Angels."  Isn't that a nice thing to have included with your genealogy?  I wonder if Nephi found any fun surprises like that one.)

One of the cousins whose name is mentioned in this book, emailed me this week.  She googled her family and found my stuff on Rootsweb.  That was SUPER exciting.  Wooo hoooo... I know the Internet is true!!!

This one is slightly more exciting:  Mom and Bob went to Vegas for Spring Break.  Last night, they went to see Wayne Brady's show ("Whose Line Is It Anyway?" and "Don't Forget the Lyrics").  OK, so Wayne and his helper dude did an improvisation sketch, the one where they're acting out a scene and they ask two audience members to provide sound effects - and my mom was asked to be one of the sound effects people!  She was so excited, she called me this morning.  She says - for your information - that Wayne is really short and skinny.  She had her picture taken with him afterward and he said to Bob about Mom, "You've got your hands full with this one!"  Roseanne was also in the audience and Mom says she looks really good, like she's lost a bunch of weight.

That's it for me... have anything exciting to share with the class?

"Just Let It Go"

April's Ensign came today and it's chock full of good stuff. I'm not usually one of these "pick up the Ensign the day it comes and read it cover-to-cover" people but I did tonight, and wow, it was great. I felt peace and calm and good stuff.

 I'm staring down the barrel of a new calling, and suffice it to say, reading the Ensign tonight really helped me feel better about it. I've been feeling so guilty this week for whining and crying and ranting and huffing my less-than-stellar attitude about it, but now, I feel loved, I feel I can do this thing I've been asked to do, and as an added bonus, I don't feel broken anymore. How's that for progress? 

Sometimes my blog seems preachy to me, but then, I'm figuring out a lot of this stuff for the first time. It's exciting to see something I believe in so strongly, actually bear fruit. It's like praying to find your keys, because you've heard all your life that prayer works, so you pray and then... you find 'em! That's really encouraging. It's probably why I talk about genealogy so much. I don't really care if YOU do it. I mean, I do, but... you know. I happen to find it a really joyful and fun experience, so you get to hear about it ad infinitum. Even after we're dead and we're all hanging out in Heaven, I'll still be talking about it. Love me, love my dead people.

Anyway - this is how blogging works for me: like a 2-year-old with stomach flu. When I get it, we all get to experience it.

You're Not Recording This, Are You?

Tonight I was informed that Chevy Chase is a flaming liberal.  I don't care, I love him anyway - at least, I loved him back in the 70s and 80s, when he was cute and Goldie Hawn was hot for him and Dudley Moore was still alive.  Those were the good old days.

 Elasticwaistbandlady has never seen the movie Roxanne, so when we were on the phone and I said, "Laugh, and the world laughs with you - sneeze, and it's goodbye, Seattle!", it meant nothing to her.  But she outsang me during a Debbie Gibson song-fest, and later we joined in singing choruses of "Reproduction" from Grease 2, which she hasn't seen for a long time and still swears up and down is a great movie.  I told her my Melanie story, and said she ought to rent it just to make sure it's as good as she thinks.  It isn't.

 Mel called me on her new cell phone tonight.  We broke it in while using our Grandma voices.

"Oh honeyyyyy... just bring that ca-ow in hyeah so Cahter and Rozzeh can hayve theyeah milk.  Bosseh, keep yo' tail outta the babies' faces."

"But Grain-maw!  That ca-ow ain't pahtty-trah-ayned yit!  Whar'd ye git such a foolish ide-uh?" 

"From mah ol' daid Grandpappeh."

What - you don't talk to your sister like this?

*Wishing you a happy phone day, with a fun surprise call from someone you love*

Early 2008 Pics

Some of these were sent to us, some came from Hubby's cell phone (so they don't have a date - he just sent them to me in email one day), and the rest are kind of a hodgepodge...

Harrison played flag football this year with his good friend Austin.  Austin's dad was the coach and Hubby was the assistant coach. Harrison had fun with it. He scored a touchdown one game that was quite impressive - he had the ball, and just ran, and ran, and ran and no one could catch him.

Flag football!

Little Lady loves her dress-up stuff - most of it was new last Christmas from Aunt Kristy and Uncle Steve. We keep it separate from the other toys because she's into it every day, changing outfits...

"I am beautiful"

Aunt Kristy sent this Utah cheerleader outfit for Bella years ago and we're glad to see it getting more use.

Go Utes!

Harrison and Carter riding one of the coin-operated cars at the mall... Carter looks quite serious...

Someone caught Rozzie taking a nap

zzzzz

Tawnee sent me these.

Kiley and Zane

Zane

Hotter Than a Flaming Armpit With Tabasco Poured On It

I've declared Saturday to be "SIBM" (Stay In Bed Mom) Day.  I just have to remember to switch positions periodicially, because my back is now unhappy with me.  Maybe I need a new mattress (*ahem* cat peed on it *cough*).

"And what do you do in bed all day?"

Oh, nothing, really... let Bunny take the kids to whatever superfluous sports crap they're doing that day... tickle any children who make their way into my room... have my three-year-old bring me cookies for breakfast and lunch, then rub her feet till she falls asleep... and watch lots of trashy, trashy TV.  I figure this is my reward for my oppressive, stressful weekdays of diligent blogging, and slaving over my ancestors.

Which brings me to my current topic: I finally caught Casanova today, and can I just say, PURRRRRRRRRR.

There are no chickens here

Just kidding

I had a dream last night that I was going to leave my husband for fat and drug-bloated Jeff Daniels.  He's not really fat and drug-bloated (that I know of), but he was in my dream.  He was even carrying little baggies of pills under his shirt.  In the dream I was thinking, Bunny, Shmunny!  Some rich guy who doesn't love me wants me to enable him to death while I spend him flat broke?  Why shore!  I'm up for that!

I felt slightly guilty when I woke up (of course) but later thought, this is one of those dreams that Carrot's always having.  This means something.  This is important.

I think the dream meant that I don't think I deserve good things.  Or it could mean that I ate too many cookies the night before.  It's anyone's guess.

Sabbath Day, or Hippie Lettuce Day?

"Gun control is for wimps and Commies.  And let's get one thing straight - guns don't kill people.  I do."
- Gun-totin' old geezer on UHF

So I'm sitting in Gospel Essentials with Frankie, whose baptism date is in less than two weeks, when talk turns to the Garden of Eden.  First we talked about Adam and Eve's transgression of eating the fruit, and how a transgression is different from a sin ("It's like murder vs. manslaughter"). 

There in the Garden, Adam and Eve were unable to have children, but on the upside, they were able to enjoy the Garden without a bunch of whiny, snotty, pants-soiling little hangers-on.  Also, fruits and vegetables burst spontaneously forth from the ground without the need for rototillers or fertilizer.

"Did marijuana grow in the Garden of Eden?" came the question from the guy in front of me (we'll call him "Brother M-J").

*Nervous tittering from class members and a big smile from our teacher, Brother B. - Frankie's head went WHOOSH, she turned and looked at me so fast*

"Hey, Heavenly Father said everything here has a use.  Marijuana has a use," I bravely offered.  "You know - hemp.  You can make rope from it, clothes from it..."

"You can smoke it," Brother M-J said. 

"I really don't think Heavenly Father meant for us to smoke it." 

"Well, I think he did."

You know, now that I think about it, that actually explains a lot about Brother M-J.