Inconvenient

Do you know when a really inconvenient time to get the stomach flu is?  When you are in charge of a cub scout pack meeting and a girls camp pre-camp orientation on back to back nights.  Yes, my friends, very inconvenient.  I have spent the last 2 days trying my hardest not to vomit and/or pass out while talking to large groups of people.  These past 48 hours have reaffirmed my belief in miracles, ginger ale, anti-bacterial wipes and my mule-headed determination to never throw up.

It's time for Dodger Baseball

I was in the kitchen getting a bowl of Coco Pebbles (the finest chocolate cereal on the market - because you end up with chocolate milk.) when out from the living room came a voice from the past.  A voice that makes me think of sunshine and hot dogs.

Vin Scully announcing Dodger baseball. 

Katie had turned on the game so I grabbed my bowl and headed out for a 10 minute break from my churchy responsibilities to bask. 

Spring, you may commence.

More Treasures

Whilst conquoring the lower quadrant of my closet this evening I found more treasures.  Namely, my art box.  Going all the way back to the glory days of college (which, by the way, thanks a big fat lot BYU.  My bracket stinks now.) my roommates and I would have regular coloring nights.  Because I don't actually have much artistic talent I would copy famous works of art but as something funny.

For example, I take Monet's Wheatstacks

and turn it into Cream o' Wheatstacks

(My scanner is clearly not appreciating the depth of color I strive for in these.  I apologize to you and the entire Art Community.)

Or The Death of Marat

To Fifteen Minutes Before the Death of Marat

If you look closely there is a People magazine tucked in the rack next to the toilet.  And once again that darn Marat forgot to put the seat down.  Even a fake artist knows it's all about the details.

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In Pod News:  A new patient came in this morning and guess what his job is...HE'S AN OLD FAT VEGAS ELVIS IMPERSONATOR!!!  It completely made my day - because as you all know OFV Elvis is my favorite.  He looked just like him.  The hair was perfect and he was wearing aviator sunglasses while sitting inside our windowless office.  Had he been wearing a leather rhinestone studded jumpsuit I would have made him sing In the Ghetto with him, just so I could help out with the backup.

This post brought to you by the show Hoarders

I am blessed to live in a wee small apartment.  Blessed because I only have so much room to put things.  If I had more space I would have more stuff because that's just my nature.  But every so often I'll catch a few minutes of that show Hoarders and suddenly I'll get it into my head that I need to throw everything I own into the trash because I CANNOT END UP LIKE THAT! 

(Side note:  have you seen Animal Hoarders.  KNIGHTS OF COLUMBUS!!  And also EGADS!  I actually can't watch it.  Because I already think that cats will eat my face when I sleep.  So I start to hyperventilate when I see the title, "Person living with 42 cats.") 

So tonight I attacked the upper quadrant of my closet and I got rid of so much stuff.  I love to look at something and decide that I don't need it anymore.  Let freedom ring!

But here's a brief list of things that I found that survived the purge.

1.)  My Best of Dolly Parton CD, which I am listening to right this very minute.  I contest that Jolene is one of the greatest songs ever written.  And not just because it's fun to sing along to but because I like to imagine that if Jolene did actually try to take Dolly's man and they got into a scuffle over it that Dolly would be the hands-down winner.  I'm sure even Jolene is smart enough to know you don't mess with a woman with hair like that. 

2.)  My sophomore yearbook.  Speaking of hair, what were we thinking?  Oh, the hours we spent on our bangs.

3.)  This picture of me and Amanda in front of a giant chicken. 

I will report that there is a very similar picture of the two of us wearing those glasses on the Grassy Knoll.  In fact, there are dozens of pictures of us in those glasses all over the greater Dallas/Fort Worth area.  It was a trip that involved, among other things, the attempted theft of a fallen highway sign, Gina threatening to punch a tollbooth lady in the face, and the Greatest Meal of My Life.  It was a pretty great weekend.  And just so you know, if I'm given the opportunity to wear funny glasses and take a picture in front of a giant chicken, I'll do it every single time.

Tomorrow I tackle the lower quadrant of the closet and, if I survive that, under my bed.  Oh the treasures that await.

Things in my food that aren't food

Foreign objects and creatures keep ending up on or near my food.

1.)  A couple of weeks ago one of the doctors from the Pod took us out to lunch to the Soup Plantation.  I already have a bit of an issue with buffet style restaurants.  But I like soup and a free meal, so what are you going to do?  Near the end of lunch a roach - A ROACH! - climbed up onto the table and started marching across.  Pandemonium ensued.  The doctor, without even putting his fork down reached over with his napkin and took care of it.  The manager came over (because one of my coworkers caused a pretty funny scene by literally climbing over the doctor to get away from it) and took the napkin and said, "I can assure you we do not have any bugs in this restaurant."  And then she opened the napkin, approximately 2 inches from my head, and flinched when she saw just how ludicrous that statement was.  Conclusion:  I can't even drive by that place without getting the heebs.

2.)  Tonight at my favorite Thai restaurant I found a piece of twisted metal wire in my green curry.  We waved down our waitress, (Her name is Moo.  Seriously.) and presented the wire to her and within minutes she came back with the owner who could not have been more apologetic and promptly comped the curry and brought us some free pad thai.  Conclusion:  I can't quit that green curry.  Or the tom kha gai.  And their pad thai is pretty great.  What's a piece of metal every now and then?

Dear People of America,

My sisters, B & McNelch, are road-tripping across this great nation.  If you see them, ask them to sing "Oklahoma" for you. 

Hugs & Kisses,
Rachel

Magically Delicious

St. Patrick's Day has always been a bit of a non-holiday for me as I am neither Irish nor a drunk.  So I generally forget until someone points out that I'm not wearing green.  My entire life I have been trying to convince people that I don't need to wear green because my eyes are green.  It has never worked.  I still get pinched. 

But I did celebrate today in my own special way.  I ate a bowl of Lucky Charms this morning instead of my usual oatmeal (admittedly, this had more to do with me over-sleeping (A pox on you, Daylight Savings Time!) and not having time for oatmeal then trying to be festive) and I watched Conan tonight.

Going strictly off of your childhood memory (that means no googling), who can name the original Lucky Charms charms.  Remember when they added purple horseshoes?  It seemed so revolutionary.  I did not eat Lucky Charms as a kid so the whole idea of having marshmallows in your cereal was the most impossible dream.  This could be why 90% of my college diet was Marshmallow Mateys.  I had to make up for all those years of wishing.

Fergus Murphy! And other tales from my day of tennis.

Camille and I have been making the trek out to the desert every March for several years now for a day of tennis.  Watching tennis, that is.  I haven't played tennis since college and even then it was mostly just as an excuse to get smoothies afterwards (am I right, Rac?)  We get to watch several matches pretty close to the players and drink frozen lemonade.  And now I have just realized that I must have a very deep-seeded link between tennis and slushy beverages.  This is clearly not a bad thing.

A few highlights include:

1.)  Guess what is in this cup.  Go ahead.  Cocoa?  Coffee (don't be ridiculous)?  Some other hot beverage that needs to be sipped gently through a wee hole?  Nope.  It's rootbeer.  They ran out of soda lids.  This, after waiting in the drive-thru for 20 minutes.  They handed this to me with a straw and no explanation until we asked.  It was fine until the ice got in the way.  But it made me giggle the entire time.  And as an aside - here's something interesting about me that you may not know - I hate guessing.  When someone says, "Guess," I always say, in a very stubborn tone, "I don't guess."  I find that this is the only way to combat the, "No, come on!  Just guess!"  If it doesn't work I usually throw something out that is ludicrously wrong.  Like if you say, "Guess how many polar bears I have in my Beanie Baby collection,"  I was say "910," and then fold my arms and harumph.  Because I'm zero fun.  Don't ever invite me to your party.

2.)  The chair ump for the last match we watched (The Bryan Twins v. Some Kid from Canada and Some Cute Guy from Spain.) was named Fergus Murphy.  FERGUS MURPHY!!  Oh, please let  me have a son so I can name him Fergus Murphy (insert Wealthy Benefactor's last name here).  Not only was he beautifully named but he had the funniest moment of the entire day.  At the end of a break the players got up and into position and were ready to play but there was a couple right in the middle of the stand making some ruckus.  Dancing or something.  So Fergus Murphy says, "Ladies and gentleman, please take your seats."  Still, with the ruckus.  "Please, stop moving around so the players can begin."  Still, ruckus.  "Will the lady and gentleman standing directly across from me please stop moving around and sit down."  STILL!  "Hellooooo!  We can all see yoooouuuu!"  Fergus Murphy is my hero.

3.)  Unless your in the big stadium or watching a match with some no-names, seating is decided by death matches under the bleachers.  We always had great seats because after four years we have learned to go to the tail end of the smaller matches preceding the bigger ones.  But some people haven't figured out this trick yet.  People who had been waiting under the bleachers for hours would finally get seats and tell stories of blood and guts and name calling.  An argument between two senior citizens very nearly came to fisticuffs.  It was thrilling!

4.)  Because of the trauma of getting in and all that frozen lemonade, there is a real bond that you share with your neighbors.  We sat next to Our New Best Friends Kristen and Austin for 2 entire matches.  Austin cracked jokes and Kristen pointed out cute players.  Ideal seat companions.

5.)  Is that Paula Deen in a woven bird jacket?!  I wish.

It used to be a Life of Elegant LEISURE

So, you know how I was in Tunisia for 3 months, and during those three months I didn't have any church responsibilities other than occasionally playing the piano for our teeny group to sing a hymn?  Well, I wish I had known then that the entire purpose of that trip was to give me a chance to take a nap in order to rest up for what has become The Season of Busy.  My life has suddenly become dominated by churchy responsibilities.  This is not a complaint.  Nor is it a nostalgic wish for a return of the good old days when I was just the Primary president.  I'm fine with the work load.  In fact, I'm amazed at how well my naturally chaotic and disorganized brain is handling it all.  Yes, fine.

Fine, except for the sad fact that at the end of the day, when I would normally sit down and type out something humorous on this blog, I find myself staring at a blank screen wondering if I saw anything funny that day.  Of course I saw something funny.  I always see something funny.  But the part of my brain that translates those moments into actual words has been taken over by the part of my brain that demands sleep.  Which means you have missed out on such stories as:  How I Saved $1000 in Car Repairs through a Very Obscure Family Connection, and The Roach I Met at Soup Plantation, and My Tragic Haircut - Volume 15.  All would-be classics. 

So, I'm a little bummed about that.  But let's not be so glum.  Let's look at this picture instead.

That's my grandpa and his brothers at Seal Beach, CA in 1924.  Grandpa is the wee fella in front.  They are, no doubt, about to rob a candy store and then find a girl whose pigtails they can pull.  This could be the Greatest Picture Ever Taken.  National Geographics should put it on the cover.  We should all have it framed and hung in our bathrooms so we can see it each morning to start the day out with a smile. 

I'm with the bride

Whilst at Disneyland on Saturday I noticed an alarming trend:

Large bridal parties

There were several gaggles of women strolling the park with a lead girl wearing those (lame) Mickey bridal ears, followed by 10 or so gals in matching shirts that say something along the lines of "Bridesmaid" or "Team Bride" or "Here comes the Bride".  If I were in charge of making such a shirt it would read, "I can't believe my friend hates me this much that after having to fork over an insane amount of money to be in this wedding I now have to fork over an insane amount of money to follow her around at Disneyland in this shirt that I wouldn't even wear to the gym." 

The worst example we saw was while we were in line for Peter Pan.  There were about 15 people all wearing matching black shirts that had a ring printed on it along with "She said yes!  Tony & Jeanette*.  March 5, 2011."  We started chatting with them to find out the details and apparently Tony proposed that morning, no doubt in front of the castle, and all their friends and family came out to watch and celebrate with them.  I have strong feelings about public proposals (Dear Wealthy Benefactor, DON'T DO IT.  Love, R) and I also have strong feelings about making your friends do dumb things.  You could tell that some of Tony's friends would have gladly donated a kidney instead of wear that shirt.

Next week's alarming trend:  women who wear high heels to theme parks.

*Tony and Jeanette were the names Susan and I gave to the happy couple before we saw that their real names were printed on the shirts.  But I cannot remember what those names actually were, and we both agreed that they didn't fit them.  And as an aside, Susan confessed on Saturday that she stalks this blog and now that I know maybe I would consider mentioning on here how cool she is.  Consider it done.

Out of Compliance

Excerpt from a 2 hour phone conversation I had with a help desk rep regarding the new credit card terminal we just leased for the Pod.

Me:  So you're telling me that in all the phone conversations I had with the sales guy and the tech support and the trainer before we agreed to the lease, every single one of them neglected to tell me that we would need to hook this machine up to an analog phone line to get the updates it will need to be in compliance?

Help Desk Gal:  I guess that's right.

Me:  So we bought this machine because we needed to be in compliance but now we can't be in compliance because we don't have an analog line?

HDG:  Yes.

Me:  So what is you're solution for this?

HDG:  You could take it down to any bank to update.  They have analog lines there.

(Here is where I show you an appropriate use for all caps and exclamation points)

Me:  I AM NOT TAKING THIS TERMINAL DOWN TO A BANK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HDG:  I don't see what the big deal is.