I miss my old job

I lucked out in landing the job of my dreams (SLP in a private clinic) right out of grad school, and I got to work there (with fun clients and fabulous co-workers) for nine years.

Now I'm in the school setting, and although it's a better fit for me than a hospital could ever be, it's not private practice. I'm not in charge of my own schedule, and I can't take off a day or two because I feel like I need a "mental health" day. (And in education, I feel like I might require more of those per year than I needed in private practice. Eesh!)

It's also been a hard adjustment having to work on Fridays. I know, I feel like a jerk even writing it, but it's something I got used to real quick, having 3 day weekends every. single. week. Getting myself out of the door on Friday mornings is haaaaard!

There are so. many. meetings. Faculty. Professional development. PLCs. IEPs. More PDs. More IEPs. And another PD or two for good measure. (And, on occasion, three IEPs back-to-back-to-back all in one day, all after contract hours.)

Also, I've gotten sick a handful of times since school began mid-August. I figured I had a stellar immune system, having worked in a pediatric private practice for nine years, but the middle school is, like, a petri dish of germiness, and I seem to catch a good portion of whatever's going around, and it's not cool.

That's not to say that working in a public school doesn't have its perks, though. I have vision and dental insurance, which I've never had in my adult life. (Andy's work pays for our health insurance, but they don't have vision/dental plans.) It's pretty cool to just have a co-pay for these appointments, if I'm being completely honest with you.

As much as I miss my Fridays off, I'm 3 months away from a legit summer break. I'm stupid excited just thinking about all the books I can read, and hanging out with my mom and SIL sometimes (since they're teachers, too) while Andy is at work.

Aaaaand it's nice to be on salary. It's nice to get the holidays off without it hurting the bottomline, you know?

Also--and this is most important--I love the people I work with. I've gotten to know a handful of the English/Language Arts teachers fairly well, and they are awesome people! And I love the crap out of my Special Ed. team. I LOVE THEM. They've been patient and helped me transition into public school life. And the Special Ed. directors at the district level are about as supportive as they can be. I'm so grateful to them!

And as much as I miss my old job, I realize that I'd rather deal with the stresses of this new job here in Logan with Andy in my corner, than to be back at my dream job without Andy. It's been a big year of big changes, but Andy's worth it all. He's been a good cheerleader for me; he's patient and listens to my stresses, and he's literally my shoulder to cry on, and I don't regret leaving it all behind for him.

That face. The one on the right. He makes everything okay.

Also, it's good to grow and challenge oneself in so many ways, right? I'm growing professionally, doggone it!

*vent over

I mean, I wake up to views like this every morning! (Although I think this is just pre-sunset?
But you get what I'm saying.) Cache Valley, you're beautiful!

I mean, really.

it's funny because it's true

saw this on facebook the other day. 

i laughed. hard.
 

elijah wood's eyes really are very expressive.
thank you, lord of the rings

it's so accurate, you know?

this whole "spring ahead" part of daylight savings time

is awesome in that it stays lighter later into the day.

but DANGITALL, losing that one hour of sleep that first
messes me up for an entire week!

let's just get rid of daylight savings time already, shall we?
especially now that we've got daylight right where we want it!

april fools...

...the joke's on ME.

Yesterday, I headed to Utah right after work to spend the weekend with my awesome family. As I was driving down I-15 past Blackfoot, I noticed my "check engine" light was on. I thought to myself, "Well, I'm headed to Utah, where Goose can take a look at it..." and that's just about as far as my thoughts were allowed to go, because something started smoking under the hood of my car.

This is a real story, folks.

I pulled over, put on my hazard lights, and opened the hood, only to stare blankly at all those parts. I noticed that some sort of liquid had exploded out of...some roundish part at the back of the hood on the passenger's side.

I can handle stress, my friends; but perhaps I don't handle it all that well when it deals with cars. (Okay, there's no "maybe" about it; I hate car stress.)

I immediately texted my brother Goose and another friend who knows cars (shout-out to Mr. Merrill!) to get their feedback...but both of them were busy and unable to respond for a bit.

I started wondering if this had anything to do with Handsome Rob's accident from nearly 2 months ago; I only got Handsome Rob back a month ago (March 1), and this is the first time I had driven him on the freeway since his return.

So I called Dad. It happened at something like 6:02, and I knew my agent would not be in her office, but I called Allstate anyway. Of course she was out of her office, so I called the 800 number to see what the heck I should do (mostly because I was concerned that this might have something to do with Handsome Rob's previous claim from February.)

Now I don't want to give Allstate a bad rap, because they are typically fantastic to work with. Typically. The two guys I talked to yesterday were ridiculously...unhelpful. I told them (both) my situation, explaining from the very start, "I'm not sure what the devil is going on, etc., etc.," and the second guy (who was supposed to be more helpful than the first) said, "Well where did the liquid come from? Your radiator?"

Umm...really? I. Have. No. Idea. I could go on about the unhelpfulness of this fellow, but I won't...

Anway, to make a long story a little less long, I'll just have you know that I called a tow truck (thanks, once again, Eaton Towing!), who will diagnose Handsome Rob first thing this morning. And I called Jami to come bail me out of trouble 25 miles down the freeway. (She is a saint. No, really.) Then we went to Jeff's place where he shared some fruit pizza from his birthday.

Then I came home and had a nice conversation with Mr. Merrill.

I'm still considering my predicament. My uncle Shawn called me last night. (He was one of the first people I called, as he is local, and he is family; but he, too, was unavailable at 6:02.) He offered to drive me down to Utah, as he and his family are headed that way this afternoon anyway. (I told you my family is fantastic. All of them.) So...I'm wondering if I'll wait and hitch a ride with Shawn & Co., or if I ought to just rent a car for the weekend.

And if I do rent a car, you can bet your sweet bippy that it will NOT be an Aveo. I refuse to drive that car ever again. No, no, if I rent a car, it'll be the Chrysler 300, because I know they have one. Of course, it being April Fools Day, that car is probably already rented out...

Anyway, positive thoughts on Handsome Rob's behalf would be fantastic. I've talked to a few guys, and the consensus is that, although it could be number of things, it's likely either the head gasket (expensive!), or it could be something to do with the thermostat (inexpensive!). I guess we'll find out here in a few hours.

my flirt is broken...

Recently, it seems, I've had a handful of conversations about flirting. These conversations always make me a bit uncomfortable, because I'm not a good flirt. I never have been. Somehow, every time I flirt, it comes out all...awkward. Which is not a good thing. Not good at all.

I guess I'm not always horrible at it; it seems to come quite naturally (so I've been told) when I'm around really good guy friends, or if the guy I'm (accidentally) flirting at is, like, gay or something. So basically, I'm a decent flirt when the fella isn't a threat. (Is "threat" the right word, even?)

Anyway, I truly am no good at the flirting thang.

I'm good at being sincere, though. And giving compliments and stuff. I hope against hope that one day, my sincerity will catch the eye of a tall, handsome man. Right? Because, heaven knows I'm not going to capture a fella's heart (or positive attention) with my broken flirt.

Sad, but true.

I've had similar conversations with a couple of my guy friends, Jason and Cameron (collectively known as "Jameron"). Specifically, I remember chatting with Cameron in Hawaii about how I'm quite certain my signal is broken, or badly damaged, or the wiring's all screwed up...

Want to know what Cameron got me for Christmas?

It's a signal light thingy.
If only this did the trick...
(Obnoxious, but FUNNY!)

Anyway, I've heard a quote that "the way God made you is the way you're most beautiful,"(Russell M. Nelson), and although that's probably more about actual looks, I'm going to make it work for me and my broken flirt. Honestly, my not flirting is more attractive than my trying to flirt. Right?

There's gotta be hope for me, right? Sincerity's gotta be attractive to some fine fellow, right?

RIGHT?

don't you judge me...

I got an email from Brooker this afternoon, and it totally made me giggle. Behold:

A WOMAN'S WEEK AT THE GYM

Dear Diary,
For my birthday this year, I purchased a week of personal training at the local health club. Although I am still in great shape since being a high school football cheerleader 43 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.
I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Christo, who identified himself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear. Friends seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.

MONDAY:
Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Christo waiting for me. He is something of a Greek god-- with blond hair, dancing eyes, and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!!
Christo gave me a tour and showed me the machines... I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which he conducted his aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring!
Christo was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time he was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!
TUESDAY:
I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Christo made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air then he put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. His rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT! It's a whole new life for me.
WEDNESDAY:
The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot.
Christo was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members. His voice is a little too perky for that early in the morning and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying.
My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Christo put me on the stair monster. Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Christo told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other crap too...
THURSDAY:
Butt hole was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help being a half an hour late-- it took me that long to tie my shoes.
He took me to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran and hid in the restroom. He sent some skinny witch to find me. Then, as punishment, he put me on the rowing machine--which I sank.
FRIDAY:
I hate that jackass Christo more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic, anorexic, little aerobic instructor. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it.
Christo wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the darn barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich.
The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?
SATURDAY:
Satan left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing his voice made me want to smash the machine with my planner; however, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel...
SUNDAY:
I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my husband will choose a gift for me that is fun-- like a root canal or a hysterectomy. I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would have sprinkled the floor with diamonds!!!

I'm not sure where this email started, but holy crow, it's funny!

I used to go to the gym like 5 times a week. Mostly because I was getting ready to look good in a swimsuit for my Hawaiian vacation. But then Hawaii came and went, and then Christmas came and went, and suddenly my gumption was gone.

After Christmas comes the New Year; and with it came the resolve to keep going to the gym.

I did keep going to the gym, although it was only typically 4 days a week; and two of those days were with my trainer, Handsome Ben. When my training sessions ran out, it was everything I could do to make myself work out at all. (PS Let it be known that I don't think of Handsome Ben as "Satan" or anything like it; he's a good guy who actually gave me encouragement without waxing obnoxious.)

Anyway...yeah, my "workout regime" kinda took a hit and tapered off there towards the end of January (only one month into the new year! I rock!).

And then there was my dreaded accident. After that, I was sore for several days. Then I got sick. Now I sit here and I realize it's been nearly 3 weeks since I last worked out. I had full intentions of going today...but then my alarm went off at 5:30, and I promptly reset my alarm for 6:30 and fell back asleep.

Why does it take forever to get into the habit of working out, but getting out of the habit is so darn easy? (And, let's be honest, it's much more enjoyable NOT going to the gym as well.) It's irritating unto me...

Anyway, I'm here to make a vow that I'll hit the gym tomorrow. For real. Zumba at Gold's Gym with Lindsey. And so it was written, and so it shall be done.

In other news, it's been ridiculously cold of late here in Idaho, so I'm thinking pleasanter thoughts. Such as...

Springtime. And tulips.

Supposedly (if you live in a part of the world where the weather truly is governed by the seasons--unlike Idaho), SPRING should be here officially in a month...

I Vomit on This Day

I had intentions of doing a fun little update about my fun little weekend this evening, after running here and there and getting some fun little things done.

But then I got in a stupid car accident, and that post was promptly flushed down the toilet. (Well, maybe not down the toilet; that post is still coming, but not tonight.)

Clearly, I'm okay. Physically, at least.

Mentally, I've been done with this day for...several hours, let's say.

It started out great, really, especially for a Monday. Because! We moved back to our original building for work this past weekend! I went in early to unpack and get ready for my first client, and things went well. Plus! All my clients (but for one) showed up! Which means I was busy! Which is good!

Yes, busy days are good. But today also had the distinct odor of a Monday. The stink hovered over everything, and I tried to ignore it.

Okay, so I'm venting, but I'm not going to go into detail. Suffice it to say that I got home later than I wanted to, had to get lots done before going to where I needed to be, and then was frustrated a time or two once I was there.

The icing on the cake, I'm sure.

I did have fun socializing with some good friends while there (including, but not limited to: Jami, Brooker, Keri, Kari, Skyler, Whitney, and lots of other stellar people). I love my friends, and they made the evening portion of my Monday suck a bit less.

And Jami (bless her soul!) had the idea to go to Jeff's house where there resided some cheesecake left over from last night. (Jami is a wizard in the kitchen, people! Her cheesecake was so good I very nearly cried.)

So. We left where we were and headed for Jeff's.

And blah, blah, blah: I got in an accident. It was scary and frustrating and my knees and sternum hurt, but I'm okay. And the other driver and his passengers are all okay.

Really, life is okay. When I think of how much worse the accident could've been, I'm so grateful! Plus, Jami noticed I wasn't behind her any more, and she came back to be my moral support before I could even text her to let her know what happened. Also, the other guy was super nice about it when he could've been a jerk-wad. And cars can be fixed, right?

Aye, there's the rub.

I hate car issues. I don't want to deal with a broken car. The other car and mine hit hard, and there are parts of Handsome Rob (my car) strewn about all over that intersection, is what. (Mostly the front fender, along with a headlight, my license plate, and half of the nose bra. I think that's it?)

But do you know the plastic part that goes up above the tire?

Well, do you?

I think it must be on every car, because Handsome Rob is a good car, and he had some plastic that used to be up above the tire.

It's now wrapped around the tire. Handsome Rob is in no driving condition. The kind, handsome officer called a towing service who came and took away my car. Prognosis: to be determined.

I think I'll take a bath and pray for sleep to take me quickly.

Here's to tomorrow not being Monday!

(This sweet little pouty face
belongs to my nephew Emmett.
It kind of captures my feelings at present...)

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?

sweet taste of India...

Well, folks, I finally did it. I've been on this earth for...several years...and I finally tried Indian food. It's not that I haven't wanted to try it, but rather, I've never really had the opportunity to try it. (Okay, there was that one semester in grad school when I lived in "The Curry Palace" with a nice Indian gal, but we were never there at the same time, and I wasn't about to dig into her leftovers when we knew so little about each other, you know?)

Anyway...I made a resolve to try it this year, and when Coretta found out about it, she asked me, please, could she be there with me when it went down, and also that it needed to go down at the Bombay House in Provo.

So that's what happened.

The drive there was not out of the ordinary for the Ginabean in a city she doesn't know well. I'm no good with directions, even when I google-map it beforehand. I had full intentions of going to the Jordan River Temple yesterday afternoon. But somehow...somehow!...I missed my exit. So I just continued on to the Provo Temple.

Things weren't any better in Provo, in case you were wondering. I've been to the Provo Temple before, but never from the way south exit.

Know how I bragged about my apple pie, and that I can change at lightning speed? 'Member how great I am at those two things? Well...my sense of direction (or complete lack thereof) is something else entirely. Other adjectives that apply: intriguing, astounding, "impressive", interesting...umm...pathetic. Sad. Depressing. Right. Get the picture? To help my sad little ego just now, let it be said that I make quite the navigator if I'm not driving. (And if we're not driving around in Nanaimo, BC. Man, I got us way lost there, but I blame it on the scaling of the map we used.)

Moving on...

I met Coretta (a dear friend/previous roommate from yesteryear) at Bombay House at 7:00 last night. (I drove by that place 3 or 4 times before I found it. And it ain't hidden, really.) Oh, how joyful it was to see my Coretta-friend! I think the last time we saw each other was nearly 4 years ago. She's married and has 3 kiddos, we haven't seen each other in 4 years, and things felt just like it was yesterday that we were roommates at BYU-Idaho. STUPENDOUS, don't you think?!

Coretta knows what foods I like, and, more importantly, she knows what I don't like. Plus, she knows Bombay House. So we figured out some options I'd likely like, you know? And, since they had lamb on the menu and it's my goal to taste lamb by the year's end, I killed two birds with one stone and ordered lamby, Indian-style. (I so wanted to call the title of this post "Mary had a little lamb, and I ate it," but my mom said it sounded too harsh, like I'm eating a pet. Out of respect for my mom, and pets everywhere, I obliged.)

Coretta and moi at the Bombay House
(I love this girl!)

We went all-out and ordered beverages too...
These are Rose Lassi and Strawberry Lassi

It really is the darnedest thing, but Rose Lassi tastes exactly how a rose smells, but delicious. Not so you'd want to throw up at all! Who knew?! -I ordered Strawberry to be safe, but Coretta let me have a sip or two of her Rose...

The spread...
You ought to be jealous!

My first bite of Indian food...
This was the Lamb Boti Kabab Masala, FYI...

I wasn't quite ready for the picture, can you tell?
This is just before my first bite of Raj's Chicken.
(If I could write "Supremely Delicious" in Hindi, I would)

Holy. Crap. How have I gone my entire life thus far without going crazy on this stuff?! -I'm fairly sure my body would hate me if I tried the super spicy stuff, but Indian food is amazing! And what the what? They use ginger and mango in, like, tons of their recipes. Mango ain't my fave fruit, but I rather enjoy what India can do with it!

Coretta and I also ordered the Onion Naan (flatbread) and mango ice cream. (Yeah, here's something truly shocking: that ice cream didn't hurt my tummy at all. I think it's cause it was more yogurty than ice creamy.)

The Mango Ice Cream...
Isn't it lovely?!

So yeah. Yesterday was good (despite the set-back that is my sense of direction). It was DYNAMITE seeing Coretta again for a couple of hours! And after that, Lisa let me crash at her place so I wouldn't crash on the freeway. It was loverly seeing her again too!

the midas touch...

(9:35am)

It used to be a chair for my computer desk.

It was getting wobbly (really, really wobbly), so I found the right tool to take it apart and mend it. It really seemed simple enough.

Alas...you can see the damage.

Irreparable.

I'd probably swear if I didn't find it so dang funny...

Looks like I'm going shopping at some point today...

UPDATE (4:12pm)

Look what I can do!

I bought a new chair, had my friend Cameron hoist it upstairs to my room, and I put it together. All by myself! (With the instructions nearby, of course.)

Also, I thought I'd give you all a gander at my "neato" scar from when my right ring finger was sliced open...

4 months later...

crappy day...

Oh gee. Today's not been great; cancellations and no-shows. Up. The. Wazoo. Plus a couple of other things that very nearly made me cry.

Whatever though. Life goes on. And I actually had a full late-afternoon work schedule. This helped improve my outlook on life quite a bit.

So...just before my last client came in, I went to the restroom. (Let's just say my eyes were floating.)

Sorry...too much info? Well, prepare to get uncomfortable!

My cell phone fell out of my pocket. Into the toilet! UGH! How gross is that?! I scooped it out, pulled out the battery to dry, and scrubbed my hands in near-boiling water with buckets of soap.

A very important process!

Let the phone dry during the session. Put phone back together, and it wouldn't turn on. (This is actually a blessing in and of itself; who wants a phone once it's been in the toilet?!)

So. After work, I went to visit-teach a couple of sisters in my branch. It had to be a quick visit, because one of the gals had a date (woo-hoo!). Then I made my way to the nearest Verizon store.

Fortunately, I've been paying for insurance on my phone. SO GRATEFUL for insurance!

So yeah...I got to Verizon and queued in line for my turn.

Long story short: I have a new cell phone. But apparently when you get your phone wet enough that it can't turn back on, you lose EVERYTHING. Sounds. Pictures. Phone numbers.

Icing on the cake, people...

Not sure if I'm looking forward to tomorrow or not...

On a happier note:

Aaron had a birthday today!

Also, I am the owner of the new Collective Soul (Rabbit) CD.
I likes it.

wag of the finger...

Goose "chewed me out" this past weekend for not posting a particular photo on here from the last time I went home. He made me promise to remedy the situation sooner than later, so here goes. Goose, this one's for you...

Choke hold...

This picture was taken at Red Robin about 30 minutes after our family Temple trip a few weeks ago. If you click on the picture, you can see some veins bulging in my head; that was a real choke hold Goose had on yours truly. What makes this story even better is that it was my Mom taking the picture. Aaaand I can't forget to mention Brent's happy thumbs-up in the background. (In their defense, Mom knew Goose wouldn't let go of my neck till she snapped the picture. And Brent truly had no idea that Goose was strangling me. And that vicious look on Goose's face? Totally staged. Right, Goose?)

Anyway...I went home this past weekend, once again. I took a few pics, so I'll get around to that...sometime.

F is for FAIL...

Get comfortable...this story might take a while.

Yesterday was my friend Matt's surprise birthday party. His roommate Josh planned it and I went over a bit early to help. -Josh had called me yesterday morning to let me know that Matt had driven to work instead of taking the bus, so we should expect him around 6 instead of 6:45. My last client of the day had canceled, so I was able to run home, grab the cake and ice cream, and run over to Matt's place to help Josh set up around 5:30.

So that's what I did. I pulled into their driveway just after 5:30. I grabbed the cake, ice cream and gift from my car and made my way to the front door. And then...Matt's car pulled in. DANG! Yes, it's true. Matthew got home 30 minutes before we even thought to expect him.

In my panic, I hurried back to my car and put the stuff back in and tried to talk calmly with Matt. I told him Josh told me to come by. Matt invited me in and Josh met us at the door and said, "Hey, Gina. What are you doing here?"

Hmm. Fishy thing #2 (or 3 or 4). I could've choked Josh.

I knew Matt knew something was going on. I wanted to just leave: abandon ship! But Matt invited me in and so we talked for a few. Then Josh told Matt he needed to take his truck to his sister's house for his brother-in-law to work on, could he please follow him there and give him a ride back? But before they left, Josh told me, "Gina, you need to come up and see my new bedroom set." I followed him upstairs with shoulders sagging and Josh gave me his key to their house. Then we all drove away in separate cars.

At this point I called Brooke for reinforcement. (She had been lurking around the neighborhood already anyway...she was concerned when she drove by and saw both my car and Matt's...) So Brooke blew up balloons while I frosted the cake. Emily Haymond showed up at this point and helped us out.

Then we heard the garage door open, and the three of us ran upstairs like frightened children.

So--Matt walked in and saw our balloon mess, the birthday cake and a gift on the counter...and no one there. (We fled to Josh's room.) When Melanie Wittman rang the doorbell, we descended the stairs and threw streamers at Matt.

Talk about the worst "surprise party" ever!

We were able to laugh about it. I said, "So Matt, be honest; did you suspect anything?" To which we all burst out laughing. Matt said he had rather enjoyed watching me and Josh lie left and right. I could just die of shame. (Yeah...I can't lie. I have the truth written distinctly across my face. This is one reason I prefer honesty.)

Anyway...the rest of the party was fun enough. Pizza, cake and ice cream, and presents.

The gift...
a genuine Dwight Schrute bobblehead!

Hooray for Federal Express, by the way. The bobblehead showed up on my doorstep yesterday; I had just enough time to wrap it before heading to Matt's to kill his surprise party...

7:50am...

My hands are shaking, my stomach is in knots, and my heart is pounding just a little too fast.

I just barely avoided a pretty nasty accident. BARELY.

I'm not gonna lie to you, I've been pretty bummed at the recent weather. I've been SO hopeful for a real spring here in south-east Idaho. REALLY hopeful. As usual, we've had a few lovely days to tempt us out of our homes and our winter clothes...only to awaken to cold winter winds and--gasp--even snow. Meh...

Honestly, I'm not annoyed with the moisture so much as the cold. Let it rain! But please, oh please, BRING ON SPRING!

I was driving to work this morning on horribly slick roads, going about 10 miles under the speed limit when suddenly the guy ahead of me slammed on his breaks without warning, which caused me to slam on my breaks in turn...I kept getting closer and closer and then started fish-tailing and felt as if I had approximately ZERO control over my car. I knew an accident was a fraction of a second away.

But somehow the unfortunate event never happened. My car slid off to the shoulder of the road and I gained control of my car.

Anyway...maybe this isn't such a big deal to most people, but I totally recognize it as a blessing. Who can really afford an accident? Nobody really wants one to happen. And had it happened, it would've made this Monday worse than most and my attitude would've gone from "not great" to...well...pretty dang bad. Alas, it didn't happen, and I'm so grateful! I know my Heavenly Father was looking out for me.

And suddenly, this Monday doesn't seem so bad...

misc...

We've had strange weather this February. I swear it's felt like (early) spring nearly half the time.

But then, after a beautiful and sun-shiny day, we get hit with cold winter winds and snow.

Whatever. It's winter in south-east Idaho. Expect the unexpected...

Anyway, we've got pretty crazy-looking icicles on our back porch handrail. See for yourself...

cuh-razy

...not to mention dangerous?

And...I did something when I went home for Brent's homecoming. An act of service for my mother, more than anything. It may not be a big deal for most of you people, but it was major for me.

Look what I made:

That recipes says "Karin's Banana Bread"
and those are very ripe bananas by the bowl.

YES! I made banana bread! All by myself! It was disgusting, and I may have gagged once or twice during the process...

Peeling the over-ripe, smelly, squishy fruit...

About to throw all the stinky peels away...

Adding the smooshed bananas.

I still can't make myself eat them. But...baby steps.

I really must love my momma SO MUCH.

Oh wait...I do!

nightmare revisited...

I heard the craziest story on the radio as I was getting ready for work this morning.

Seriously.

Quite a freaky story.

Some fellow goes sky diving for the first time on Saturday. As a first-timer, you have to go tandem. Shortly after the chute opens, the guy realizes his jump-master isn't responding. At all.

Turns out his jump-master is...wait for it...dead.

Seriously.

I told you it was crazy.

The story gets better, though. Although the jump-master is a goner (rest in peace), this rookie sky diver somehow lands without dying himself and he tries to revive the jump-master.

This story freaks me out of my gourd because I went sky diving in September 2006 and I had bad dreams before I went. (Nightmares about my chute not opening.) My experience was, in a word, awesome...but since diving, I've felt that I cheated death and I've decided I don't want to tempt fate again.

This story has just strengthened my resolve, thanks...

uninhabitable...

Oh wait...I live here.

Seriously, this little video clip doesn't even do it justice...

I was supposed to work a full 8 hours today. 5 of my clients canceled. The reason is singular: the weather is awful today. We woke up to several inches of snow. I didn't want to go into work, but I did it anyway. And then...more than half of my clients canceled anyway. Oi. It's kind of a bummer, because if I don't see clients, I don't get paid. (Something about fraud...?)

Whatever. That's not even my biggest concern.

Nope.

I'm a wee bit apprehensive about the drive home tomorrow after work; if this nastiness continues, it seems I'll be stuck in Idaho until, at least, Christmas Eve morning. Not so depressing if I were married, or if my fam lived here too. Alas, they are in Brigham City (where it's also yucky weather). Which is in Utah. Which is, in good weather, about 2 hours and 15 minutes away. I'm not a big fan of driving in snow. "Safety first!" is my motto.

Anyway...let's try to put a positive spin on this.

Give me a minute...

Okay. Here goes: 1) Lisa swept my car windows off this morning. Very kind of her. 2) Brother Jenkins brought his snow blower over this morning and attacked the heavy snowfall for us just as Brooke was headed out the door to shovel. It would've taken her about a week to shovel the driveway. So yeah, Noel Jenkins in the Hero of the 21st Century. For real. 3) It looks like I'll have me a white Christmas after all.

So yeah...I got home from work by 1:30. The drive home was all windy and slushy and just no darn good. I thought to myself, "If I didn't live here, I'd call this barren wasteland uninhabitable."

Oh well...I've got plenty of time to pack and get everything ready for my possible southward sojourn tomorrow. Right?

And now...a few pictures:

This one's for you, Jeans!
(I call this one "Gina Squared")

Our hero, Brother Jenkins!

The elements...