Updates

Maybe I'm not posting as much as I should, but I am making old posts more awesome with crappy pictures! Yay! Check out Ski vs. Snowboard. I'll draw more when I get bored again. It happens more often than I'd like to admit. Especially because I'm trying to write a paper and a thesis...

Bad Dream

A few nights ago, I was woken up by Husband. It went something like this:

Gasp. Convulse.



Gasp. Convulse.




Gasp. Convulse.



I was worried that maybe he wasn't breathing well, or something really serious was wrong.

"Are you ok?" I asked tentatively.

"Yeah. I just had a bad dream."

"What was it about?"

"I got a bad grade."

A tale of two computers

I meant to finish this post in April. Oops. You get it now though, so be happy?

This past weekend, Husband and I attended our third and final event celebrating our wedding. We drove to and from California in three days. It's about 10 hours one way. Husband has been distracted this semester to say the least. That meant that this trip was around 15 hours of dedicated study time (I asked him to drive in California... I'm not used to that craziness). We brought both laptops: one PC and one Mac.

I've noticed some differences in those to operating systems (no surprise there).

Husband began the studying using his trusty PC. As soon as it turned on and realized it was not plugged into a power source, it felt as if we had asked the computer to climb Everest. Without oxygen. When it started to slip away, Husband would turn down the brightness to almost black, turn off any extraneous programs and somehow this bought him slightly more time. The computer trudged through like a trooper for about 3 hours. Then promptly died. "It's like a house cat," Husband exclaimed "Plays with you for a while, gets bored and falls asleep."

He next pulled out my MacBook Air (to say this properly, you must whisper "air"). It had been fully charged before we left.  It turned on (happily I might add), and worked until we switched drivers 5 or so hours later. We then decided my MacBook Air is a puppy. Happy to see you, willing to play long hours, and wears you down before you wear it down.

I'm very proud of Husband. He finished an online business class in about three days and got a B. Not bad for someone utterly distracted by wedding madness.

Archaeology everywhere!

Husband and I got a little stir crazy on saturday. Home just wasn't enough. Luckily we live near mountains! 

We began our hike enjoying the few leaves that are still hanging on, the cool weather and the rock climbers. Up the trail aways I noticed some masonry in the riverbed.

Can you see the aqueduct in the upper right hand corner? Here's a good picture of it.

We followed it. All the way to the end. Sometimes there wasn't really a trail, but you could tell we weren't the only curious adventurers who had attempted this. 

It ended a few paces towards the camera, but the absence of something isn't as fun. 

Feeling fulfilled, we descended from the canyon. As we approached the parking lot near the mouth we heard a loud crack. I thought it sounded like thunder, which didn't make sense. There were no clouds. We looked behind us. One of the rock climbers based jumped. I totally want to try that. 

Pillow project

Husband and I were at a popular shopping mall near by and stepped in to a home furnishing store that blew our minds. We found many ideas and that we loved and the more I looked the more I realized I could make some of those things! The inspiration for today's project are these, these and these. I realize they are all very similar. But we loved the vintage feel and simplicity. Husband served an LDS mission to Chile and came back with this. 

A postal bag

I love the lettering. It's so much fun.

Without further adieu, the finished tiny pillow!

Front of the pillow

I wanted to keep the cooler elements of the bag somehow. I used the metal holes for the back.

On our bed!

A pillow case is really simple. Someday when I don't get distracted by the sewing of something, I'll stop and take pictures. Tutorial style.

Preliminary Wedding Reception Pictures

I thought I would post some fun pictures of our reception so that you can all enjoy the work my mother put into the party. She did a fantastic job! 

Food Boxes!

These are the treat boxes we made before hand. You can see what was in them on the table: A carmel apple from Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory, Popchips, and a little bag of candy that includes M&Ms which have either our names or fingerprints in the shape of a heart printed on them. This took a lot of work in the beginning, but made the party run really smoothly. Our neighbors, who offered to help (absolutely wonderful people), just had to replace the boxes as they depleted.

Beautiful Water Jars

These were full of lime water. There was also an LED light at the bottom of the bigger one. The reception was at dusk, and combined with the hundreds of twinkle lights strewn all over the yard, the scene was stunning.

The Cake

This was a design combination of a couple cakes that I found on Pinterest. My baker, Sara, did a fantastic job putting the two together features together. I also like to be slightly unconventional, so we decided to have the actual cake topper to the side of the cake. (We wanted it to be more practical so that we would keep it out in our home, and the trade off provided us with a "topper" about a third the size the overall cake...It would have looked odd on top.) 

Couples Retreat

My mother bought those pillows specially for my wedding. They were the perfect color. 

Green and Silver

If you couldn't tell, my colors were granny smith green and silver. These were right next to the pool which was a great place to sit and listen to the live band. They were fantastic!

Card/Money Jar

We found this at a neat consignment store in St. George. An interesting alternative to the prevalent birdcage idea. 

 A room full of lamps!

Before hanging all of them, Husband and I popped up all 80+ lamps. (There are more that were not in this room.) It would have been so much fun to jump around and play in them, but we needed them to look good. 

More pictures are coming. These pictures were taken with my phone, and when we get the ones from the photographer I'll post several as well.

The Cooking Dilemma

When I cook, one of two things happens when something doesn't taste right.

First: Disgust and rejection

Second: Salvage the food! (which usually happens when it's the only food in the house)
During this stage I attempt to apply what years of watching the Iron Chef should have inadvertently taught me: How to add seasoning. In my case, this entails making it taste better by not-so-judiciously dumping selections from the wide array of spices that I've accumulated from past roommates who have left them behind into the would-be-meal. The concoctions end up with things like cumin, which is something I don't really know how to pronounce let alone use, combining with chili powder and half a can of olives that I found in the fringe. At this point, I'm usually starving and will throw just about anything into the food in the hopes that each additional additive will solve the issue. It results in something even more disgusting then I started with. But, as I already mentioned, it's the only morsel remaining that could have become a meal, so I either eat it and hope that each bite doesn't get steadily worse, or I make myself a peanut butter-and-honey-sandwich-of-shame as a token to my ineptitude.

Husband is different. He carefully smells every spice before choosing which ones go in the food beforehand. It's like watching a real Ratatouille at work, minus the rodent. Though his additions of spices go unmeasured and seem as erratic as my own, his gift for smelling and combining complimentary ingredients usually turns out fantastic.

When it doesn't he sits and plots the next attempt, reworking what was arguably an acceptable dish to begin with into utter culinary perfection...or as close as a newlywed budget allows. For instance, tonight he thought of two very different ways to perfect the spaghetti squash that didn't taste quite right, but was much more ostentatious than the macaroni and cheese that I assumed would have became our common fare.

I'm glad that one of us can cook. I'll stick to baking. I make a mean chocolate chip cookie.

Birthdays, blankets, and baking.

Sunday was my birthday. In preparation for this event, Bryan and I bought cake! Not just one cake, but three cake mixes so I had options. Chocolate, Spice and funfetti! After returning home from church, I texted our downstairs neighbors about using their washer and dryer. They are kind enough to let us intrude once a week to do our laundry. Realizing we had gotten our comforter a little dirty, we decided to take advantage of our laundry day and wash it. We began stuffing it into the washer with the water running. After stuffing about 1/3 of it into the washer it began to make some horrible noises. Yet, we continued to stuff. It made a few funky noises, but I insisted that it be just fine. As we ascended the stairs, the noises intensified. Bryan opened the washer and began extracting the comforter. It was sopping wet at this point and had not reduced in size as other blankets and clothes do. After some exasperated screams and personal alarm noises (see Dogs don't understand basic concepts like moving. by Hyperbole and a Half), Bryan ran upstairs and retrieved a trash bag which we inserted into our laundry hamper. In the process of freeing the comforter, we managed to drench our neighbors' floor, front of the washer and probably other things we didn't realize. We quickly cleaned with the help of some other clothes that had yet to be cleaned and quickly vacated their apartment. After franticly looking for some quarters, we drove to a laundromat. Bryan, sweet man that he is, still needed to cook me my birthday dinner. I told him to leave me behind and he reluctantly did much as a soldier would if a comrade asked him to (For the record, if he could have, he would have stayed but I insisted because I had invited friends over for cake later). That is how I spent my birthday... In a laundromat.
Bored, playing with a dying phone while trying to ignore the awkward marital problems of the couple who had brought their adult kids to do their laundry. One moment they would be yelling at each other, the next they would be pinching each other's butts... I don't see this as healthy.
Bryan retrieved me after the comforter had mostly dried and I had had more that enough of The Real Housewives of Provo. To be honest, I was not in the best of moods after this.
But then came my favorite part. CAKE! I chose the funfetti! We had some leftover frosting from my bridal shower that was several different colors. This barely covered the double layer cake, but looked really cool! I began placing candles on it and the thought came to me... we don't have a way to light them. Bryan and I had only been married a week and didn't realize this would be a concern. However, a quick text to my friends solved that issue.
Funfetti makes everything better.

Unintentional Retribution Cycles

Remember that time when Husband left me at the laundromat on my birthday? Well I accidentally threw my keys at his eye on his birthday. The cycle is complete.

Ski vs. Snowboard

After work one morning, I knew that Bryan had nothing else going on that day and I could miss work. It was nearing the end of ski season and I couldn't miss the opportunity. With very little coaxing Bryan and I were headed up to the slopes. He snowboards and I ski. I thought the techniques would be the only difference. As we rode up the ski lift, I became increasingly nervous. I hadn't been skiing for about 5 years. One thing I always remember when I ski: I hate falling down. It's difficult to get up because I end up sliding down the hill while only partly stable and inevitably fall again. It is a viscous cycle which ends in lots of crying and cursing gravity. We got off the ski lift and I slowly made it down to the beginning of the run. Bryan strapped on his board and I though, as I always do, how terrifying it would be to have both feet strapped to one board of doom. But that's coming from someone who learned to ski when she was 5. (I've never skiied with any consistency after that age, so my skill is only sub-par) Bryan started down the mountain, fell, got up and waited for me.

 I stood petrified, skied 10 feet, froze, skied 10 more feet, froze, repeat. Bryan called up to me asking if I was alright and I said I was fine, I just needed to get used to this again. I told him to go on ahead because having him watch me was even more nerve-racking. Gravity was pulling me too fast and I didn't want Bryan to see the bloody aftermath of that battle. He continued down the mountain as I got my ski legs back.

After the fist couple runs, I finally felt confident again. I could finally ski next to Bryan. He realized before I did that our attitudes toward these winter sports were totally different. He loved going fast. Gravity did most of the work and if you started going too fast, you turn or fall down. Either way, you're having fun!

As he watched me ski, he realized this was not the case for me. I needed control. It was a constant battle with gravity. If I got stuck because something was too steep and narrow, Bryan would suggest several ways for me to get down the run and I would stare at him incredulously. At one point, I had to watch an 8 year old go down a run before I knew I could do it. My husband is right. If I'm not battling gravity, I'm convincing myself that I will not fall over. At the end of the day, my confidence was back and I knew I could make it down the mountain unscathed and had a lot of fun. Unfortunately, I forgot that gravity was not my only enemy... I returned home with a sunburn.

How my wife trasformes from a beautiful intelligent woman to ...

My wife and I got married on March 17th. We spent a couple nights in Las Vegas for a mini honeymoon before heading back to school. We made a stop at Lynn's parents' house to pick up presents her wonderful neighbors had given her at her bridal shower. We had been on the road for about an hour when I heard a buzzing. I wasn't sure what it was, but I knew my new bride is terrified of a certain striped flying insect. The buzzing stopped. I hoped it wouldn't continue, but against my wishes the buzzing started up again. I looked in the rear view mirror and to my horror it wasn't a fly, but a bee. I willed my wife to stay asleep despite the buzzing. All I needed was a few minutes to get to the next gas station and then I could let the poor bug out of it's misery without my wife's knowledge. Suddenly from the seat next to me I hear in a small terrified voice "Is that a bee?!" She immediately got as far away from the bee as the seat would allow and curled up in the fetal position. I knew she was afraid of bees, but this was something else. My independent, strong woman working on her masters degree suddenly needed a caveman with a large club to kill the bee of impending doom. We were nowhere near an exit with a gas station and Lynn pointed at a seemingly random, conveniently placed (the very next) exit. We drive about five minutes away from the freeway before finding somewhere she could take refuge while I disposed of the intruder. As we pulled into the parking lot, Lynn leapt from the car into the snow and fled to the comfort of the tiny local grocery story and left me to the dirty work. I unfortunately am not a caveman with a club. I am an English major and the only weapon at my disposal was dustpan one of the women had given my wife. With the task complete, I went to find my wife. We began our trip again, but Lynn could only look on those gifts with distrust. They were the harbingers of stinging intruders.