stick to what you know...

I haven't worked a Friday in...I think a couple of years? I'm lucky like that, you know. Of course, it's my own choice; I don't get paid on salary, so when I don't work, I don't get paid. But...Fridays off are totally awesome.

And this is why:

Friday is My Day. I get to do whatever the heck I want. It's a 3-day weekend every.single.week. I know you're furrowing your brow in annoyance. And really, I'm not trying to, like, rub it in. I'm just really, really thankful for my Fridays off.

They're not always full of fun, you know. Honestly, I typically use Friday to get stuff done that I, perhaps, neglect during the week. On Friday, I usually wax domestic, whether I want to or not: clean the house, get groceries, throw some laundry in the wash, paint my toenails. You get the picture.

But some Fridays are more domestic than others. Take yesterday, for instance. Yesterday I baked. Isn't that a stellar thought? I think it's essential that you know that the dessert section in my recipe box is the fattest section; I have more dessert recipes than I do main dishes, soups/stews, salads, and miscellaneous COMBINED. (Which is curious, really, because I mostly prefer salty to sweet, but that's another story I think.) Don't you love me more knowing that my dessert section is so full? :)

In the morning I made peanut butter brownies for Brooker's fun little luncheon today. Because, did you know? She loves peanut butter more than any other thing on this Earth. And do you know what else? Chocolate and peanut butter is the best combination I can think of off the top of my head. (Besides chips and salsa. See? I told you I prefer salty to sweet.)

I also made these tasty little brookie things. (Recipe found here.) I saw this recipe last week sometime and fell in love just reading the name of the dessert and looking at the pictures. (Isn't brookie a precious name for the brownie/cookie combo though?!) Last night I went to a game night at Jeanna's, and I thought I'd bring some brookies along to keep us company. So whilst I was out running errands anyway, I thought I'd stop by the store and purchase a few items in order to make this delicious little treat.

When I got home, I finally looked at the directions on how to make said brookies; it's a more involved recipe than I thought it'd be in looking at the ingredients alone. (Not that they were difficult to make; just took time.) They turned out okay, but let's just say they didn't look picture-perfect, I slightly over-baked some of them, and people didn't exactly fight each other off for the last...several. I have a gall0n-sized ZipLock bag full of the little monsters in my kitchen right now. I need to remember this one lesson (that I've technically learned several times over but never seem to remember until it's too late once again): Quit making treats for others before you've mastered the recipe, Gina!

Brookie eating a brookie...

At least the peanut butter brownies turned out perfect. (They are a perfect food. And the recipe's easy too; 2 of everything.) Seriously, I got almost a million compliments on those bad boys.

The perfect food. (As long as you don't look at calories and stuff. Which I don't.)

Part of the reason I wanted to be domestic yesterday is because I got an e-vite to my 10 year high school reunion Thursday evening. I've known it's coming; I know what year it is and I can do the math. But somehow it was a slap in the face, you know? Forced me to analyze my life; forced me to realize (again) that I'm not even close to where I thought I'd be 10 years outside of high school (married with a small batch of children).

It's not that I'm not happy to be where I am right now, please know this. I love my job. I have stellar friends. I get to do fun stuff and go fun places (mostly in the summer). I've got a good life. I think I baked yesterday because I was somehow making a point to myself that I don't need a family in order to be domestic. Does that make sense? Oh, and also, baking is kind of therapeutic.

Anyway...that was my Friday. How was yours?

embarrassment olympics...

My oldest brother is a fellow blogger. I like his blog, truly. Sometimes he's sweet and sentimental, but usually he just makes me laugh.

Anyway, this brother of mine (he's called Aaron in most circles) likes to do surveys on his blog on occasion. He just posted another one, and it's a great idea; people sharing their most embarrassing moments on a public forum! And the best part is, WINNER GETS A PRIZE! Seriously, how cool is that?

Aaron graciously shared his most embarrassing moment, and I've got to say, his probably tops most people's moments of shame. And he does it with hilarious verbage. The story's funny by itself, but hearing him tell it is nothing shy of, like, magic.

You think your embarrassing moment is too embarrassing to talk about? I beg to differ. Talking about it is somehow liberating. I would know, I shared one of mine right there in the comment section of Aaron's blog. (If you want to know what it is, you have to stop by his blog and hit the "comment" link; and since you've gone that far, you might as well just write yours down while you're already there. Just sayin'.)

Anyways, you should do it. DO IT! Go to travelswithgilly.blogspot.com. You know you want to!

olympic-sized thoughts...

Okay, my thoughts aren't exactly Olympic-sized, but I do have some thoughts about the Olympics. First, though, a song dedicated to the Vancouver Olympic Winter Games, 2010:

Isn't it, like, terrific? Oh, I love Vancouver.
(I can say that with authority because I've totally been there.)

I sort of watched the Opening Ceremonies with my Ma and last week. I say sort of because we were flipping between the Opening Ceremonies and My Best Friend's Wedding. And mostly we watched the latter. (Sorry, but the Opening Ceremonies made me feel kind of bored.)

And you know what's sad? I haven't been able to watch the Olympics very much because I've been so busy in the evenings. Lately, though, I've been coming down with some sort of head cold or something, so I've been avoiding the crowds and babying my ailing self; so after taking a hot shower and bundling up into my warm jam-jams on Wed and Thurs, I totally plunked myself down on the couch with a warm blanket, and I watched me some Winter Olympics is what!

Here's my first thought: What the Shaun White?! I swear, what that fella can do, like...defies physics. It looks impossible, what that guy can do! He totally deserved to win, and I didn't even want to like him. (And the reasons are twofold: 1. I kinda don't love that the Olympics are made up primarily of professionals any more. That's one beef I had with Shaun in the beginning. But the real reason I didn't want to like him is this (#2): His hair is prettier than mine. Much, much prettier. And doesn't that just seem wrong to you?) Anyways, when he unearthed that last flippy thing (the last trick on his last run), I was utterly amazed. I stared at the TV, all sorts of amazed, and then I did a little victory dance (from the couch; I'm ill, after all). Shaun White is AMAZING. Just sayin'...

Also, before I forget, you know what's a weird word? Luger. It's like someone is saying "loser" with a Dutch accent. ("Izsn't that veird?" Name that movie!) Seriously, though, anytime I hear anybody talking about "lugers," I am confused for a few seconds. Every. Time.

I feel quite certain that I'd die if I tried Alpine Skiing. (Isn't that what it's called what Lindsey Vonn does? The one where they go insanely fast down a snowy slope on skis?) I watched that Anya what's-her-last-name totally biff it, and I'm convinced Alpine Skiing could be the death of me. And apparently Anya wasn't the only one who ate snow that day on the Alpine run. YIKES!

I'm mystified by men's figure skating. Frankly (now don't hate), if I see a guy in skates, I want him to be in full hockey gear, beating the snot out of every member of the opposing team, you know? Having said that, I'm amazed that men can be so graceful. Maybe it's bitterness talking, because I lack grace in so many ways. Anyway, I watched the long performances on Thursday night, and I was amazed at those dudes. (My heart went out to the cute little Japanese skater whose laces broke and he had no choice but to take a 2 point deduction in order to fix his problem in 3 minutes or less!) I thought Evan Lysocek did well enough to win the gold, even if the Russians disagree. (Go USA!) Also, Lysocek is kind of (really) handsome, and more masculine than the rest. (There. I said it.)

That's all she wrote...

it took the wind out of my sails...

1) My friend Mrs. G informed me that Slurpees, in fact, have corbonation. What the what? How unfair is that?! Do you even know how much I love Slurpees? It's really going to be a test of character to see if I can live without that frozen beverage whenever I return to Zion. Especially in the summer time. UGH!

2) I'm back to work after my week-long sabbatical to the land of my inheritance, which is a good thing. I talked to all my clients' parents to tell 'em, "I'll be at work all the livelong day" and also, "I know it's a holiday; shall I plan on seeing you on President's Day?" They all said, "Yes." But do you wanna know what? Out of 9 clients, only 4 showed up; 2 canceled, and 3 (count them, THREE!) no-showed. No-shows really annoy me, so you know. I mean, they really annoy me.

Getting over it and moving on...

The rest of my trip homeward was terrific. Seriously, it was the breath of fresh air I needed. I spent some quality time with everyone in my family (minus Brent, the scholar at BYUI). I got to hold some babies (Thing Two, JanieBug, and Lindsay's adorable and squishy Stella). I ate the culinary delights of my mom's home-cookin'. I played with My Boys some more (Jackson, Marshall and Seth). And I watched one of the greatest made-for-TV chick-flicks of all time with my momma.

I also learned it's detrimental to "play dead" with 3-year-olds. Marshall and I were playing a game where he was chasing me with a toy airplane. When he tapped my bum with the plane, I was to fall to the ground and play dead. At this point, Marshall picked up my arms and let them fall (to make sure I was dead, see?). I don't mind indulging the boy; he's really a riot to play with, so we played. After lifting my arms and legs and letting them crash to the ground, I heard Marshall say (somewhere near my legs), "Let's see if she's dead!" This was his mantra throughout the entire game, mind you, so I thought nothing of it. Quite suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my gut; Marshall had stabbed me with the pointy nose of the airplane to see what I might do. I. Am. So. Dumb. I kept on playing dead. So Marshall repeated the process of stabbing his Auntie Gina in the gut in exactly the same spot as before...at which point, the game ended. Rather abruptly. Because seriously, when it happened, I got up and felt for an open wound or something; I was certain my flesh had been torn open. Alas, there was nothing. Not even a bruise. It sure felt like internal bleeding (or what I would imagine internal bleeding to feel like; I really wouldn't know.)

Now here I am, 5 or 6 days post-puncture, and any time I tense my stomach muscles, it hurts where I was stabbed. Isn't that curious?

Oh, but the story doesn't end there. This ginabean is a glutton for punishment, or something like unto it...

On Saturday, Mom and I babysat Jackson, Seth and Jane while Aaron&Amy and Vance&Abby went on a double date for Valentine's Day. Good times were had, to be sure! At some point during the afternoon, Seth and I were playing when he informed me that I was dead. So I collapsed on the couch and Seth crawled on me. And then he gave me a puppy kiss. You get the idea, right? He licked me. Across the face. Sure, it was just Seth spit, but it was rather unexpected. Somehow.

So now I know: don't play dead against the 3-year-olds. (Write these words of wisdom down, will ya?)

What else can I tell you of?

Oh yes. The greatest made-for-TV movie ever? It's called North and South, and I'm currently reading the same book by Elizabeth Gaskell. I discovered that Abby's sister Mandy owns the movie, and Mandy was gracious enough to let me and Ma borrow it last Thursday. We watched all 4 hour-long episodes that night. All. Four. Because I don't think Mom can start a good movie and not finish it. Plus, this movie was right up her alley; very Pride and Prejudice-esque, you know? And it totally helps that Richard Armitage (aka Mr. John Thornton) is a total hottie. Squared. (I love him.)

My heart bleeds for Mr. Thornton.
(Please don't call me pathetic)

Aaaand here are some more pictures from my week in BC:

Papa and Jane
(Isn't she delicious?!)

Puppy Seth lounging on the couch...

Mr. Marshall

Also I discovered that not all sweetheart candies are nasty!
(Fuzzy picture, I know. But buy the bag that has blue hearts in it. I'm tellin' ya!)

Oh yeah. I met Lisa in SLC for dinner and the Joseph Smith movie.
(It was a good time; I miss my Lisa!)

300...

This is my 300th post. What do you think of that? I think it's pretty spectacular. Just so you know...

Getting on with the 300...

I'm in Zion this week. I decided it was high time I took a week-long sabbatical from real life. And so far I'm loving it.

I pulled into the BC Sunday just after 5:00pm, which means that The Game (you know the one of which I speak: The Superbowl Game?) was on. Which means that Dad and Goose were boring for the majority of the afternoon and into the evening. But it was okay, because Mom, Janel and Marshall provided me with the entertainment that The Game lacked. (Sorry, people, but even the commercials were a bit of a let-down, and The Who doesn't quite do it for me. Plus, I lost count of how many times I saw the fleshy belly of the guitarist. "Dear The Who: Please either tuck in your shirt, or else wear an undershirt. Thanks a mill. The Ginabean") Anyway, I had myself a good time chatting with Ma & Janel, and playing with Marsh. Good. Times.

Me and Marsh

Yesterday was pretty great too. Really, really great. Here's why: I got to cuddle baby Jane to my heart's content. I got to relish in the deliciousness of a bucket-of-Slurpee, Coke flavored. (Just so you know, a Coke Slurpee is not a cheat; my resolution clearly states that soda is what I'm quitting: no carbonation. Judge not, people!) Also, I got to visit with my good friend Jules and her two boys, Thing One and Thing Two. It kinda sucks that I hardly ever see Jules & Co. Julia was my roommate at USU for 2 years, and we've been good friends ever since then. (Can I just say? I still love that girl to bits, and I'm super happy that she married such a stellar feller, and that they have created such outstanding offspring. Just sayin'.) Also, the weather is more mild here in Zion, and the skies are blue! Blue skies do something to alleviate stress for this Ginabean! Vance and Abby came over for dinner yesterday, which was another great part of my yesterday. Then we had a nice lesson for FHE and then watched HP and the Half-Blood Prince.

TANGENT (feel free to skip this next paragraph):

Concerning HP and the HBP...This is totally my favorite book of the HP series, and this is why: I've always loved Snape. Always. Through it all, I've always known there was more to Snape than what we were being told outright. I always liked Snape, even when so many people were out for his blood. (And although Alan Rickman plays the perfect Severus Snape--and I love that Alan Rickman with his deep, British voice--I loved Snape even before Alan Rickman's portrayal of him in the movies.) This book expanded on my beloved Severus. Plus it was just well-written and interesting. I love this book for so many reasons. As for the movie...well...I never like the movies as well as the books (except for Mr. Rickman, of course). They always take a lot of creative liberties and leave out lots of important and interesting stuff. Having said that, I still liked HP and the HBP movie quite a bit. But here's my main beef: EVERYTHING between Ginny and Harry was so awkward it was almost physically painful for me to watch. Specifically, Ginny feeding Harry some sort of Christmas crumpet, and Ginny tying Harry's shoe. Those two scenes, I swear, lasted like 8 minutes each. UGH, you know?! UGH!!!

Thing One and the Slurpee Bucket

Thing Two

(whose cheeks I kissed into oblivion)

JanieBug

/Blue skies/Smiling at me/Nothing but blue skies/Do I see/

Wanna hear about my Today? Okay, here goes...Aaron discovered my stresses of 2010 and thought he'd help a girl out by getting me a massage. Isn't that awesome of him?! That Joleen Cullen of Layton, she knows what she's doing. I practically floated out of that massage appointment, I did.

After the massage, I went to visit Aaron, Amy and Boys to say thanks and chat for a few minutes. After about 20 minutes or so, I announced I was leaving and Seth said, "Don't go! Stay here with me!" (My heart melted; how on earth could I possibly say no to such a request?) So I took Mr Sethington on a little date. We drove to a local supermarket and I told Seth to pick out a treat. We walked around that market; I found the cookies and crackers aisle and asked if he wanted either of those. He said "No." I asked if he wanted a Little Debbie cake or brownie. He said "No." He found what he was looking for next to Little Debbie. He chose Tang, of all things. I told him, "Let's keep looking." After several more minutes of walking around the store, we ended up buying Chocolate Twizzlers. It made him smile. And that made me smile.

I'm enjoying another bucket of slurpee this evening. I'm sharing it with Ma and Marshall 'cause 52oz is too much for this Ginabean all by herself. I've been visiting with Janel whilst making homemade apple-cinnamon muffins. She just left for a meeting, and Abby and Jane are on their way over. It seems like it's gonna be a good night, huh?

Action Jackson

Mr. Sethington

One more thing. Ever since publicizing my resolution to quit drinking pop, it seems that everywhere I look, there it is: Coke. It's not making the whole Quitting Thang any easier...

Pa thinks it's funny to buy Coke for himself when I can't partake...
I take comfort in the fact that it's Diet he drinks.
Always. Diet. (Way to go, diabetes...)

This stared me in the face as I did laundry yesterday...

In Vance and Abby's frigerator...

I swear, I deserve an award for my will of iron...

can i just say...?

I watched UP for the first time yesterday as I supped on a delish dish of lasagna prepared by Brooker's momma. (Oh my heck, that was one delectable dinner! There was even dessert: caramel brownies! YUM!) And can I just say? UP is such a cute movie! Seriously, why didn't I go and see that one in the theater? There is so darn much to love about that movie. I think I'll buy it one day. I know there were some sad parts to it, but I totally laughed like a child on several occasions; and over all, the movie just made me feel good. Loved it.

If you read my previous post, you know that I think 2010 is over-rated. But honestly, I wasn't sure if it was the new year that I hated, or just the month of January. Because, can I just say? January is a horrible month. I think it has something to do with the winter-ness of the month; it gets dead cold North of Zion. Plus, it feels like an entire month full of Mondays; and January is one of the LONG months! Ugh! So glad it's over!

Having said that...can I just say? February ain't fabulous either. It's got its perks (which are twofold): 1-It marks the end of January, and 2-Groundhog Day. See, the only real good days in February are the first two. (I skipped Valentine's Day on purpose, okay? I'm sure I'll like that holiday okay when I find me a husband...and that annoys me about myself, so we're not gonna go there.)

Concerning Groundhog Day in North of Zion; it really doesn't mean Jack Squat. Up here, winter lasts until mid-April or so. But can I just say? I love Groundhog Day! Honestly, I think it's stellar to begin Thinking Spring, regardless of what the weather does to dampen one's spirits. Thinking Spring is so darn lovely! Plus, there's the classic movie, I think you've heard of it. It's called Groundhog Day. (I love that movie...)

I'm not a real fan of pomegranate ever since that fateful day after school when I was a wee lass. I mean, I don't hate it; I could eat a few seeds if it really meant something to someone I love. It just doesn't do it for me. But can I just say? I kind of love pomegranate/tangerine sherbet. I'm not quite sure what prompted me to buy it, but there I was at WinCo (pronounced wink-o, just so you're awares), walking with a purpose towards the frozen treats section (or whatever it's called) to find some raspberry sherbet. Because, can I just say? Sherbet makes me smile. Anyway...I completely planned on buying the raspberry variety; but when I opened the freezer door to grab the raspberry, my hands grabbed the pom/tanj. I looked at it, blinking, wondering how that happened, and then I proceeded to put the pom/tanj sherbet in my shopping cart. That was on, I think, Friday. And today I tasted it. And it's kind of scrumtrulescent. (Does disliking pomegranate but enjoying its sherbet make me a hypocrite? I wonder...)

Oh yeah...this stuff is delicious!
Even in a North of Zion dead of winter!

JUST SAYIN'...