I enjoy Twitter.
It nurtures my laziness, craziness, and need for gossip.
I thought I'd share a few of my recent Tweets that I have or maybe have thought about tweeting:
b. Here's a poll for the location for the next Real Housewives...I vote Cedar Hills (or Fruita).... I've been thinking about this one...and I'm changing my vote to Real Housewives of Edgemont. Can you imagine?
b. according to Dr. Google, I have pagophagia (compulsive ice chewing, and I love it)
b. Why does Kathy Griffin have to talk like that right in front of her little old Mama? (I really would like to know the answer, it makes me very uncomfortable!)
b. Oooooops! Flashed the Farmer!! (as often as that happens I may have to see my Bishop--but then again, I've flashed him too).
b. Oldest: Why is Michael Jackson's brother black? (to which kalli noted: it's a valid question, you must admit) (sidenote: 14 year old son came home from camp a few days later and upon seeing the same report said, "Michael's brother stayed black?")
b. No doubt in 14 year old son's mind now that I have NOT dyed any "hair down there". SERIOUSLY! WHY CAN'T YOU KNOCK???
(this post is really just a diversion from posting a significantly more serious post regarding death from the abuse of prescription drugs...I don't know if I have what it takes to write it, it seems necessary... but do I have the giblets to go there?)
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Twenty
Dear Hoss,
So…20 years, huh?
Who.would.have.thought?
You summed it up best the other day when I reminded you…”How in the hell did we make it 20 years?”
Here’s how…
The Wedding:
Remember how I wouldn’t ride up to the temple with you? I needed Gram to hold my hair for me when we pulled over at 7200 South McDon’s so I could puke. (several months later I learned that you would have done that and so much more for me)
Remember how we handcuffed ourselves together at a quarter of 9 and as soon as we greeted the last of our reception line, we ran with campus security through the gates of the ballroom, down the hall of the student center, and up into the auto/trades building where we sat in our white tux and gown and waited for our getaway car. And remember how Gram (our accomplice) pulled up to the Admin. Building, and as we crouched down in her back seat (remember the days when we could crouch down?), she waved to our would-be honeymoon night spoilers? Remember how we were the only couple out of your large sibling group to make the getaway? They do. ;)
The 90s:
I remember our first little house just off of Center Street in Provo. I had so much fun decorating that little place!
I remember signing the papers on our first real home. In downtown Springville.
It was so fun restoring that old wood floor in our bedroom and pulling off the mirror paneled wall and painting all night long. Remember how I decorated the whole house in country blue and mauve with ducks and geese? Classic…
I know you’ll never forget that we moved in (officially) on Thursday, you got in some sort of brawl with your boss and was consequently FIRED on Saturday, and the accident was on Sunday. All this happened as you were preparing to sign papers on your very own brake and tire shop in Orem. AND, while my mom was dying of breast cancer.
I can’t imagine how it must have been for you to get that phone call: “Hello, Mr. Hoss? This is UVRMC, your wife’s been a serious car accident…we need to you to come. Please come quickly, but please drive safely.” And then, to have to make the call to my very fragile Mother. I’m sorry you had to go through that.
Thank you for seeing me through that, even though I was pissy with you about your stinky ranch breath.
I think I have sufficiently covered the part where you were a colostomy bag saint. But, listen…you’ve passed enough stinky pharts since then to make us just about even. (Ha!)
I'm sorry you had to hear the words..."She'll never be able to have children..." and then have to be the one to tell me.
Remember how pissed we were at God? How dare He not follow through on His end of the deal! We were as obedient during that first year as two people could be! Little did we know that in time, He WOULD follow through on His end of the deal…oh, how He would…
Remember how we built our next house? Right in your old backyard? We even did a lot of the work ourselves and didn't even fight! I loved that house. That’s where we met Russ and Deanne, Todd and Eva, and Taylor…
Then came our children.
The thoughts and feelings surrounding this aspect of our Heavenly Father’s plan and His Grace are too tender, too sacred, too private for a public letter. But, there isn’t a day that goes by, that we don’t look at each other and marvel at the miracle…how all the pieces had to fit…how incredibly blessed we are.
I’ll never forget our cozy little 2 bedroom apartment we moved into after we sold our Hobblecreek house. It got too cozy. These are the years we fought about softball and roping. I know you were working hard…but so was I…and I couldn’t drag 3 babies to the ballpark or arena.
Remember when your brother came to the door and dragged you up to that “experiential, self-awareness” training? How he told us it would be LIFE CHANGING….and then I told him he better not bring you back until you were nicer? He kept his word. Remember how I went up to Boise and did the next training? And then we went together and we became aware of ourselves. Who’d have EVER thought (and I promise I won’t ever tell anyone) that anybody could get you to do a Trance Dance-and enjoy it!
We came back much better after that…and then life happened and we went on lifing. We didn’t always remember to use what we learned, but one of the concepts has become the defining and redefining point we’ve always returned to throughout our marriage…Step Left.
How about those Wasatch Brake days? Thank you for working so hard. I know it was back breaking work that you handled mostly on your own, because it’s hard to get good help these days. I’m sorry I failed you on the bookkeeping. I was already wearing many hats and math is hard. I know it was hard for you to sell the shop…but I think it turned out for the best.
Remember when we were driving along the tree road in our town, we looked up on the hill and said, “That would be a really great place to build a house.” And then we did.
You know how to make things happen. You dream it…and then most of the time…you make it come true. You brought me out here kicking and screaming…I did not want to leave my neighborhood and close-to-shopping convenient living. Now, I wouldn’t leave here for anything.
The New Millennium (aka theY2Ks):
We had our share of dream failures too: The Tool Truck. All I’m going to say is: what a nightmare. In spite of your doing EVERYTHING they told us to, in spite of your winning award after award for top sales, etc…We lost our a$$e$ in that adventure.
What I admire about you regarding that is that you chose to learn from it. You have a ratty (and I mean it is ripped to shreds) tool truck jacket that I keep throwing away and you keep pulling out of the dumpster. When I ask you about it…your answer is, “I want it to remind me…to never do that again.”
There are a couple of years that I went a little nuts. Chronic pain had gotten the best of me. I know that you knew how much pain I was in and appreciate you trying your very best to comfort me as I curled up, rocked back and forth, and walked the floors all night, trying to find some relief. I’ll save the details for the book…(still waiting for the book deal—come on, Oprah…I don’t want your snake oil, put me in your favorite book club)…but just know that I’m so thankful the Lord saw fit to get us through that. And that we came through better. That we came through together. And that our kids survived. Us. Me. I’m sorry…
There are times in your life when you can’t undo, you can’t redo, you just have to come to terms that you did it. Repentance is so personal. Forgiveness is so personal. No one should ever assume/proclaim that they know exactly what they would do when faced with certain difficult situations. Revelation is personal. This I know; God knows each and every one of us. He knows the barriers we’ve had to work around. He knows the cross we’ve had to bear. He knows how to figure it out…and we need to trust that.
Thank You, Dear Hoss, for trusting that.
(I sure wish you had a blog so you could fess up to your *cough*many*cough* shortcomings in a public anniversary letter!)
I know that you are just as proud as I am at how far we’ve come. I know that you are just as thankful as I am for our incredibly good kids. I’d like to believe that maybe we’ve had something to do with how wonderful they are…and maybe we have…but mostly I think they came that way…beautiful, kind, intelligent, funny, compassionate spirits—entrusted to us.
I know that we are miles from perfect, but I know we sure try hard. I know that we are two very different people who sometimes take a LOT of blood, sweat, and tears to find common ground, but it IS getting easier.
I love how we are quite often thinking the exact same thing at exactly the same time.
I love how we academically compliment each other...I don't do finances and you can't spell--that's why you have me. I work with nurses who actually DO save lives, but couldn't save their own if it hinged on spelling.
I love that you tell me I'm beautiful, no matter what size I am or how old I get.
I love the time that you spend with the kids.
I love that you think I’m funny...smart funny.
I love how you love your sister… Your relationship is extraordinary. I’m sorry you are losing her.
I Love You…
b.
So…20 years, huh?
Who.would.have.thought?
You summed it up best the other day when I reminded you…”How in the hell did we make it 20 years?”
Here’s how…
The Wedding:
Remember how I wouldn’t ride up to the temple with you? I needed Gram to hold my hair for me when we pulled over at 7200 South McDon’s so I could puke. (several months later I learned that you would have done that and so much more for me)
Remember how we handcuffed ourselves together at a quarter of 9 and as soon as we greeted the last of our reception line, we ran with campus security through the gates of the ballroom, down the hall of the student center, and up into the auto/trades building where we sat in our white tux and gown and waited for our getaway car. And remember how Gram (our accomplice) pulled up to the Admin. Building, and as we crouched down in her back seat (remember the days when we could crouch down?), she waved to our would-be honeymoon night spoilers? Remember how we were the only couple out of your large sibling group to make the getaway? They do. ;)
The 90s:
I remember our first little house just off of Center Street in Provo. I had so much fun decorating that little place!
I remember signing the papers on our first real home. In downtown Springville.
It was so fun restoring that old wood floor in our bedroom and pulling off the mirror paneled wall and painting all night long. Remember how I decorated the whole house in country blue and mauve with ducks and geese? Classic…
I know you’ll never forget that we moved in (officially) on Thursday, you got in some sort of brawl with your boss and was consequently FIRED on Saturday, and the accident was on Sunday. All this happened as you were preparing to sign papers on your very own brake and tire shop in Orem. AND, while my mom was dying of breast cancer.
I can’t imagine how it must have been for you to get that phone call: “Hello, Mr. Hoss? This is UVRMC, your wife’s been a serious car accident…we need to you to come. Please come quickly, but please drive safely.” And then, to have to make the call to my very fragile Mother. I’m sorry you had to go through that.
Thank you for seeing me through that, even though I was pissy with you about your stinky ranch breath.
I think I have sufficiently covered the part where you were a colostomy bag saint. But, listen…you’ve passed enough stinky pharts since then to make us just about even. (Ha!)
I'm sorry you had to hear the words..."She'll never be able to have children..." and then have to be the one to tell me.
Remember how pissed we were at God? How dare He not follow through on His end of the deal! We were as obedient during that first year as two people could be! Little did we know that in time, He WOULD follow through on His end of the deal…oh, how He would…
Remember how we built our next house? Right in your old backyard? We even did a lot of the work ourselves and didn't even fight! I loved that house. That’s where we met Russ and Deanne, Todd and Eva, and Taylor…
Then came our children.
The thoughts and feelings surrounding this aspect of our Heavenly Father’s plan and His Grace are too tender, too sacred, too private for a public letter. But, there isn’t a day that goes by, that we don’t look at each other and marvel at the miracle…how all the pieces had to fit…how incredibly blessed we are.
I’ll never forget our cozy little 2 bedroom apartment we moved into after we sold our Hobblecreek house. It got too cozy. These are the years we fought about softball and roping. I know you were working hard…but so was I…and I couldn’t drag 3 babies to the ballpark or arena.
Remember when your brother came to the door and dragged you up to that “experiential, self-awareness” training? How he told us it would be LIFE CHANGING….and then I told him he better not bring you back until you were nicer? He kept his word. Remember how I went up to Boise and did the next training? And then we went together and we became aware of ourselves. Who’d have EVER thought (and I promise I won’t ever tell anyone) that anybody could get you to do a Trance Dance-and enjoy it!
We came back much better after that…and then life happened and we went on lifing. We didn’t always remember to use what we learned, but one of the concepts has become the defining and redefining point we’ve always returned to throughout our marriage…Step Left.
How about those Wasatch Brake days? Thank you for working so hard. I know it was back breaking work that you handled mostly on your own, because it’s hard to get good help these days. I’m sorry I failed you on the bookkeeping. I was already wearing many hats and math is hard. I know it was hard for you to sell the shop…but I think it turned out for the best.
Remember when we were driving along the tree road in our town, we looked up on the hill and said, “That would be a really great place to build a house.” And then we did.
You know how to make things happen. You dream it…and then most of the time…you make it come true. You brought me out here kicking and screaming…I did not want to leave my neighborhood and close-to-shopping convenient living. Now, I wouldn’t leave here for anything.
The New Millennium (aka theY2Ks):
We had our share of dream failures too: The Tool Truck. All I’m going to say is: what a nightmare. In spite of your doing EVERYTHING they told us to, in spite of your winning award after award for top sales, etc…We lost our a$$e$ in that adventure.
What I admire about you regarding that is that you chose to learn from it. You have a ratty (and I mean it is ripped to shreds) tool truck jacket that I keep throwing away and you keep pulling out of the dumpster. When I ask you about it…your answer is, “I want it to remind me…to never do that again.”
There are a couple of years that I went a little nuts. Chronic pain had gotten the best of me. I know that you knew how much pain I was in and appreciate you trying your very best to comfort me as I curled up, rocked back and forth, and walked the floors all night, trying to find some relief. I’ll save the details for the book…(still waiting for the book deal—come on, Oprah…I don’t want your snake oil, put me in your favorite book club)…but just know that I’m so thankful the Lord saw fit to get us through that. And that we came through better. That we came through together. And that our kids survived. Us. Me. I’m sorry…
There are times in your life when you can’t undo, you can’t redo, you just have to come to terms that you did it. Repentance is so personal. Forgiveness is so personal. No one should ever assume/proclaim that they know exactly what they would do when faced with certain difficult situations. Revelation is personal. This I know; God knows each and every one of us. He knows the barriers we’ve had to work around. He knows the cross we’ve had to bear. He knows how to figure it out…and we need to trust that.
Thank You, Dear Hoss, for trusting that.
(I sure wish you had a blog so you could fess up to your *cough*many*cough* shortcomings in a public anniversary letter!)
I know that you are just as proud as I am at how far we’ve come. I know that you are just as thankful as I am for our incredibly good kids. I’d like to believe that maybe we’ve had something to do with how wonderful they are…and maybe we have…but mostly I think they came that way…beautiful, kind, intelligent, funny, compassionate spirits—entrusted to us.
I know that we are miles from perfect, but I know we sure try hard. I know that we are two very different people who sometimes take a LOT of blood, sweat, and tears to find common ground, but it IS getting easier.
I love how we are quite often thinking the exact same thing at exactly the same time.
I love how we academically compliment each other...I don't do finances and you can't spell--that's why you have me. I work with nurses who actually DO save lives, but couldn't save their own if it hinged on spelling.
I love that you tell me I'm beautiful, no matter what size I am or how old I get.
I love the time that you spend with the kids.
I love that you think I’m funny...smart funny.
I love how you love your sister… Your relationship is extraordinary. I’m sorry you are losing her.
I Love You…
b.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
{p!nk}
Any title I came up with was....um, nasty....so. There you go.
This past week, I received something in my mailbox.
I knew what it was almost immediately. This is what I pulled out:
I opened it to find this:
Then I freaked out because I wondered how they got my home address. I knew I hadn't published it. And then I remembered that SOMEONE ( I cannot for the life of me remember who) emailed me for my home address...."...you'll see" they wrote.
I told Hoss all about it (he doesn't read my blog) and we laughed. His best friend came over just in time to watch me open it. And we sat out on the front porch and laughed.
After he left, I rolled my eyes at Hoss and he said, "Hey! They're YOUR friends...." and then we had a discussion about who had the craziest friends (I won't tell you what HIS friend brought us back from China...turned out to be a dud anyway, but that's the Chinese for you) nonetheless, it's a contest I'm sure I won.
Then I went about pulling weeds. And THEN my 14 year old son brought the package to me...
"Um, Mom? Did you want to put this away?"
HolyHannaMontana-- I hope he didn't look inside the box!!
So....whoever you are.....THANK YOU!! I LOVED IT!!
And just as soon as I apply it, I'll post pictures. *cough*never*cough*
*cough*familychristmaspartywhiteelephantgift*cough*
This past week, I received something in my mailbox.
I knew what it was almost immediately. This is what I pulled out:
I opened it to find this:
Then I freaked out because I wondered how they got my home address. I knew I hadn't published it. And then I remembered that SOMEONE ( I cannot for the life of me remember who) emailed me for my home address...."...you'll see" they wrote.
I told Hoss all about it (he doesn't read my blog) and we laughed. His best friend came over just in time to watch me open it. And we sat out on the front porch and laughed.
After he left, I rolled my eyes at Hoss and he said, "Hey! They're YOUR friends...." and then we had a discussion about who had the craziest friends (I won't tell you what HIS friend brought us back from China...turned out to be a dud anyway, but that's the Chinese for you) nonetheless, it's a contest I'm sure I won.
Then I went about pulling weeds. And THEN my 14 year old son brought the package to me...
"Um, Mom? Did you want to put this away?"
HolyHannaMontana-- I hope he didn't look inside the box!!
So....whoever you are.....THANK YOU!! I LOVED IT!!
And just as soon as I apply it, I'll post pictures. *cough*never*cough*
*cough*familychristmaspartywhiteelephantgift*cough*
Friday, June 12, 2009
I just went down for a treat
I had no idea I'd find it on the newsstand!
Today, I left my hole in the wall office and went downstairs to the hospital gift shop for a treat.
I saw this:
It was the last one one the shelf. I bought it.
The article is really great.
I think Ope jumped the shark years ago....and should have walked away.
Now (as described in the article) she's just screwing with the gullible.
One of the best lines from the article is this: "Some of the many experts who cross her stage offer interesting and useful information (props to you, Dr. Oz). Others gush nonsense. Oprah, who holds up her guests as prophets, can't seem to tell the difference. She has the power to summon the most learned authorities on any subject; who would refuse her? Instead, all too often Oprah winds up putting herself and her trusting audience in the hands of celebrity authors and pop-science artists pitching wonder cures and miracle treatments that are questionable or flat-out wrong, and sometimes dangerous."
From what I've seen in the media...Mother O's done some really good things too.
And...if she gave me the keys to a new car or a washer and dryer....I'd probably take it.
Today, I left my hole in the wall office and went downstairs to the hospital gift shop for a treat.
I saw this:
It was the last one one the shelf. I bought it.
The article is really great.
I think Ope jumped the shark years ago....and should have walked away.
Now (as described in the article) she's just screwing with the gullible.
One of the best lines from the article is this: "Some of the many experts who cross her stage offer interesting and useful information (props to you, Dr. Oz). Others gush nonsense. Oprah, who holds up her guests as prophets, can't seem to tell the difference. She has the power to summon the most learned authorities on any subject; who would refuse her? Instead, all too often Oprah winds up putting herself and her trusting audience in the hands of celebrity authors and pop-science artists pitching wonder cures and miracle treatments that are questionable or flat-out wrong, and sometimes dangerous."
From what I've seen in the media...Mother O's done some really good things too.
And...if she gave me the keys to a new car or a washer and dryer....I'd probably take it.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
How I do I annoy you...let me count the ways
I've been noticing myself doing some annoying things lately. These are things that I've always done, but didn't realize that they could be annoying.
1. I'm a whistler. Also, I deet-deedle-ee when I don't know the words.
2. I'm a smacker. I didn't realize that I do this until someone smacked me while I was leaning on my straight arm, causing my elbow to hyperextend. It hurt! Then I thought about when I do it...I do it when I see someone I haven't seen in a while. I do it as a love-tap when passing my bff in the hall at work. I do it sometimes when I say, "Shut Up! Are you serious?" I'm abusive.
3. I chew ice. Constantly. I love it. LOVE it. And plus, I'm running a couple of quarts low on the RBCs.
4. I tend to restate the obvious. I think I've always done this. I'm so afraid of not being understood or that people will not get when I'm just joshin' that I end up explaining my own jokes...and then it's not funny any more. Get it? Do you GET IT?
5. I say yes when I really mean no. I really want to mean yes....but then it's really no. But then, it usually turns out that the yes was really a'ight.
You can either add to my list of ways I'm annoying - OR - you can please leave a comment to tell me the ways you've realized you're annoying.
ps. post coming soon about the AWESOME package I got in the mail!
1. I'm a whistler. Also, I deet-deedle-ee when I don't know the words.
2. I'm a smacker. I didn't realize that I do this until someone smacked me while I was leaning on my straight arm, causing my elbow to hyperextend. It hurt! Then I thought about when I do it...I do it when I see someone I haven't seen in a while. I do it as a love-tap when passing my bff in the hall at work. I do it sometimes when I say, "Shut Up! Are you serious?" I'm abusive.
3. I chew ice. Constantly. I love it. LOVE it. And plus, I'm running a couple of quarts low on the RBCs.
4. I tend to restate the obvious. I think I've always done this. I'm so afraid of not being understood or that people will not get when I'm just joshin' that I end up explaining my own jokes...and then it's not funny any more. Get it? Do you GET IT?
5. I say yes when I really mean no. I really want to mean yes....but then it's really no. But then, it usually turns out that the yes was really a'ight.
You can either add to my list of ways I'm annoying - OR - you can please leave a comment to tell me the ways you've realized you're annoying.
ps. post coming soon about the AWESOME package I got in the mail!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
I'm Just Wondering...Wednesday
Sometimes my questions don't really fit the Would You Rather format.
I heard this story on my way to work this morning and was intrigued by it.
Your thoughts?
Mine? LAVA HOT SPRINGS FAIL!!
I heard this story on my way to work this morning and was intrigued by it.
Your thoughts?
Mine? LAVA HOT SPRINGS FAIL!!
Friday, June 05, 2009
Like Nobody's Watching
When I was learning how to do the Hoedown Throwdown (boom-dee-clap-dee-clap), I came across this and it made me SO HAPPY!!! It's really really....expecial!
I am practicing, oh, yes I am.
I am practicing, oh, yes I am.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
WYRW (sort of)
Last Sunday in our combined church meeting we had a discussion on reverence. It was suggested that if your kid acts up in church--you should make it VERY uncomfortable for said naughty child so as to correct the behavior and learn 'em how to be good in church. I was kinda surprised at the number of nodding heads and "amens" around the room.
So....the question is:
When it comes to discipline...in church or wherever...
SPANK or NO SPANK ?
So....the question is:
When it comes to discipline...in church or wherever...
SPANK or NO SPANK ?
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Yo Momma!
Oldest was getting ready for yet another social event the other night. He casually says, "Hey, Mom....I met Jethro's* mom the other day. She's a Big Momma!"
"Oh, really?" I said, "Bigger'n Yo'Momma?" (I'm fully aware that she is, in fact, NOT bigger'n me)
His eyes quickly darted around the room. First, to each of his siblings and then to Hoss...who, with eyes wide, frowned and simply shrugged his shoulders.
Oldest grinned and said, "Mom! You're not fat! You're BEAUTIFUL!"
I let him off the hook and went about fixing supper.
He came in to hug and kiss me goodbye and as he did--he whispered in my ear, "Hey, pretty skinny Momma...can I have $5 for gas?"
*name changed to protect my own lard ass. (that was for YOU, Jake!)
"Oh, really?" I said, "Bigger'n Yo'Momma?" (I'm fully aware that she is, in fact, NOT bigger'n me)
His eyes quickly darted around the room. First, to each of his siblings and then to Hoss...who, with eyes wide, frowned and simply shrugged his shoulders.
Oldest grinned and said, "Mom! You're not fat! You're BEAUTIFUL!"
I let him off the hook and went about fixing supper.
He came in to hug and kiss me goodbye and as he did--he whispered in my ear, "Hey, pretty skinny Momma...can I have $5 for gas?"
*name changed to protect my own lard ass. (that was for YOU, Jake!)
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