Days like this make furloughs so worth it

Yesterday was far from boring at work. Working at a newspaper the day after an election like that is full of excited energy and good spirits. Plus good food. Pam and I went into Mission Impossible mode and scored ourselves some yummy breakfast burritos and the day was just generally good.

Then the afternoon hit. And it got exponentially better.

Cop cars

Here’s the layout of my little neck of the woods: My “office” sits against a row of windows. So does Pam’s (right next to mine). I was typing away, wondering how fast the rest of my day would drag by when she came into my cubie office and told me to look out the window.

Across the street from the newspaper is a government building--The Bureau of Reclamation. My father-in-law works there. Anyway, sitting in the street and their parking lot, blocking off the ENTIRE street, were four marked cop cars, a K-9 unit, and an undercover cop car. Their lights were flashing, they’d brought out the orange cones, and they were all standing, bouncer style, in the road, refusing any car that tried to go down that road.

Before I knew it, pretty much the entire news department (as well as advertising and finance) were crammed around our windows trying to get an idea of what was going on.

Now, the first thing you need to know about me in situations like this is that I get excited. I mean, EXCITED, excited. I jump around like a sugar-hyped toddler and get kind of obnoxious and out of control. But I don’t care when I’m in this state. The only thing that matters is that I find out what’s going on; and I can be pretty dang resourceful.

I called my father-in-law to ask him what was up, but he was out of town on business so didn't know. Dang. Strike one. Then I saw a buddy of mine out there talking to the cross-armed cop. “Logan will tell me!” I cried out and then ran out into the parking lot--barefoot--to see what he’d found out.

“The cop was pretty tight-lipped,” Logan said. “But he did tell me that Homeland Security called them in.”

Homeland freaking Security?!?!?!

It’s days like these that make coming into work worth it. “This is so exciting!” I said. Followed promptly by, “It makes all the furloughs worth it!” (At this point I’m literally jumping up and down in the parking lot, punching the air. See, told ya, obnoxious. But in the cutest way possible, promise).

So, back into the building I scampered, remembering that I have another contact in the quarantined building. I sent her an email.

Me: Is everything okay???

My friend: Yes, why??

My "artistic photo

Me: WHAT DO YOU MEAN, WHY???? :) There are 4 cops outside in your parking lot, blocking off the street. Homeland Security called them in!!!! We want details! :)

To which I received no response. So, we were all freaking out (in a good way) trying to see what’s going on. One guy was tweeting about Homeland Security trying to get a response, we were listening to the scanners, texting and calling and emailing everyone under the sun.

Finally, one of my bosses got a text from a friend that works over there, too: “Suspicious package in a car in the parking lot. They brought in a drug dog who found something that warrants a bomb robot to come in.”

Holy $&%*!!!  This is getting exciting!!

A few of our diligent employees

We joked around that it was a disgruntled voter who wasn't happy with last night’s election results and the closest government building was the Bureau.

Logan and I went outside to take pictures when we saw the robot enter the scene. We sneaked up, making sure we stayed on the newspaper’s property, and got the okay from the cop to take pictures and commenced photo taking.

Joe showed up, one of our awesome photographers, with his $10,000 camera and telephoto lens straight off the Hubble telescope. We tried to talk him into climbing a tree for a better vantage but he didn't buy it. 

Joe's photo of the robot

There wasn't much going on other than the robot occasionally rolling or moving his arm, but he was pretty cute. A lot like the robot from Short Circuit. Things started to die down. I was getting hungry and cold, so we meandered back inside.

Where I finally got an email from my friend.

Friend: Here's a picture of Rover. So apparently it is a package that's been left on the passenger tire (inside the well) of a Tahoe. The fellow who drove it last is in training somewhere off-site. They're trying to get a hold of him to see if he left his half-eaten lunch or whatever it is on the tire. Personally, I think it's probably his dirty laundry!

My friend's photo of the rover making
it's appearance

We continued to watch out our windows and the bouncer packed up the cones, the fire truck left, the street opened up, and it was like nothing happened at all. Then I got another email explaining what triggered the panic.

Friend: Turns out the suspicious package contained. . . Cheetos.

Great. Now the poor dog’s probably going to get fired and all he was was hungry.

Happy Thursday, my friends!

The bomb scare

--Me

I have fancy feet

Actually I just call them fancy so I don't hurt their feelings. I have ugly feet. I blame genetics. Size nine, wide, high-arched, complete with bunions and the ever so adorable, bunionettes. (Yes, that is a real word, my doctor told me so). I used to be embarrassed by them. Never wore any sandals. No flip-flops. Nothing.

Then I got over it. Who cares? Not me, anymore.

My feet may look funny, but they're functional. When my doctor asked me if I thought they'd last me through the next 60 years, I didn't have a doubt. Heck yes. They may look frail, but I've never had any problems with them.

Until recently.

In Irish dance, we do this pretty awesome move called a rock. (Speed up the video below and watch 7:05 – 7:46 to see the AMAZING Jean Butler from the original Riverdance tell you how to do them). The video shows a slower version of a typical rock.

Anyway, I can do them in my sleep. And I'm pretty good at them. That's why when I did a routine rock in class and heard that sickening tear-pop in my foot, my heart dropped into my stomach. My foot instantly seized up and hurt like nothing else. I couldn't walk. Couldn't wear my dance shoes.

That was four weeks ago. I still can't wear my heels. Do you know how difficult that is? It's like Calder trying to abstain (from the YA book, Lies Beneath. Book Report to come soon). It's killing me.

So I finally went to the doc. He couldn't really decide from the x-ray if my toe was fractured or not (where the big toe connects with the foot), so he went with probably a bruised bone. :(

So, until it's better (I can't even go running, people), I'll be not dancing. Which is hard to do.

But, I always love looking at x-rays of me. You find out so many interesting things. For example: I have arthritis in my neck from years and years of horseback riding. And no, I will never give that up.

I also have two floating rips. At the TOP of my ribcage. Very uncommon and painful at times.

This x-ray showed arthritis in my toes and heel (I refuse to believe it's a direct result of my shoes as Hubby claims, supported by some flimsy news article he found online one day).

And I learned something rather interesting. 

Did you know, that a kneecap is your body's way of providing additional support to a part of your body that is under more stress/used more than other parts of your body? It's true. Some people have little kneecaps on their big toes. My doctor's seen it before. But you know what makes me better than those people?

I have two.

Yup. TWO kneecap thingies on my big toe.

I'm that special.

Happy Tuesday, my friends!


 

 

Woman in Black

Friday night was my ritual "Movie with Renee" night. We grab dinner and usually see a funny film that's out. But this time around, we chose to see a scary one. Most of you know that I've been on the lookout for a movie that really scares me. Well, my friends, this was it. Now, I don't know if it was because I just haven't seen a scary movie in a while so I jumped at every little thing, or if it was truly scary. You make that decision for yourself; but I will say this: Renee wasn't scared at all. She said it was like watching a comedy because of my reactions.

So, the movie's about a man, Arthur Kipps, who works for a law firm settling estates and wills. He has a four-year-old little boy (Misha Hadley) who's the cutest boy in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD who his wife died giving birth to. He has no money, "final notice" declarations on bills, and with this last assignment, he can pull himself (hopefully) out of his rut. 


He goes to a little English town with unfriendly locals and starts to go through the deceased's papers. Oh yeah, the house is haunted and for some reason, children keep dying. The middle of the story was scary as all get out (which included a little boy crawling out of the mud during a rain storm and getting inside the house). The ending was a bit of a letdown, but I guess it kind of/somewhat/just a little bit fit the ending the character (Radcliffe) needed.

The movie was awesome for all its little moments of heart attacks. At one point, I got so scared that I pushed myself back in my chair and choked on the giant inhale I took. Renee laughed. But, if you're looking for something with a true plot to it, you're looking in the wrong place (as is the case with most scary movies). I was excited to see Daniel in something new, but the entire time, I kept thinking Harry Potter, Harry Potter. And it was a bit unbelievable for me that he'd have a 4-year-old son. Oh, and another thing, He had hardly any lines in the movie. Most of the time he was exploring the old house, alone, trying to find the source of the strange noises he was hearing.

But good things did come from watching this film. When you go see a scary movie, there are previews for other scary movies. Between those previews and the Woman in Black, Renee and I noticed certain themes and came up with a list on how to survive a horror movie, should you find yourself trapped inside one:

• If you find yourself on a road trip to the remote woods (possibly to go camping), don't go
  
• If your "crew" is made up of two or more good looking guys, two or more good looking girls, and some random "not so cool" guy, you're probably in a horror flick
  
• If you stumble across a dilapidated one-pump gas station with a scary attendant, turn back
  
• No sex in the woods, that's THE NUMBER ONE SIGN you're in a horror movie and you're going to DIE
  
• If there's a wall or a door with a hole in it, DO NOT look through it. That's a sure fire way to lose an eye or something terrifying is going to jump out at you
  
• Don't explore strange noises, especially in the dark, but neither is it safe to do it during the day
  
• Never split up. Never
  
• Candles are an unreliable source of light
  
• Creepy town + creepy people + creepy house = certain death
  
• If your dog starts barking ferociously at thin air, you're screwed
  
• Evil ghost's can't be appeased, no matter what you give them
  
• Make sure you're faster than at least one other person in your crew
  
• Basements and attics are not your friend. Neither are bathrooms. 

I think that's it. If you know of any other tips, mention them below. (PS – this was kind of a random post :-) )

Hubby deserves more credit than I give him

(Read this post for my conversation with Hubby about a couple versus a few)


Text @ 8:31 AM from Hubby: My sweatshirt showed up at Cabela's. Maybe we will go pick it up after work.

Text @ 8:43 AM from Hubby: I will need to look at a few + a couple things!!! Silk liners, reloading bullets, GPS, scope.

Text @ 8:56 AM from me: What?! I told you yesterday you don't get more than 3. For you, that word doesn't exist

Text @ 8:57 AM from Hubby: That's why it was a few + a couple things! That gives me at least five

Text @ 8:59 AM from me: You're learning quickly. This is not good…


 
From: Me
Sent: Wednesday, September 28, 2011 3:32 PM
To: Hubby
Subject: AFTER WORK

You know you're going to have to get me a Starbucks to keep me happy while you're trolling around in Cabela's, right?

;)


 
From: Hubby
Sent: Wednesday, September 28, 2011 4:00 PM
To: Me
Subject: Re: AFTER WORK

Dear Mrs. Lovely Eyes,

I regret to inform you that your personal request, dated 9/28/2011 at 3:32 pm, for such a luxurious, extravagant (and might I say highly over priced) burnt beans & watered down drink has been declined for the following reasons:

1. Your request is delinquent and has passed the contract negotiation period of 9/28/2011 at 12:00PM
2. Furthermore, independent studies conducted by the CWANA (Caffeine Watchers Association of North America) have proven that 99% of women who drink coffee past noon go crazy. (Please see attached exhibit A: Document for Independent Study Results. *Disclaimer: No Animals were killed because of these studies. However many lunches where provided to the volunteers researched in these studies that consisted of numerous species being devoured
3. It should be considered a privileged to accompany Hubby on his safari to locate the newest and greatest equipment available
4. You have no money!

You have 15 min to submit your appeal to this ruling. If you do not meet the time frame you will be considered non-responsive and penalties set forth will be upheld.

Sincerely,
No Fun 


 
From: Me
Sent: Wednesday, September 28, 2011 4:03 PM
To: Hubby
Subject: AFTER WORK

Oh. My. Gosh.

I can't believe you put that much effort into telling me no.

 PS – you know I'm going to do it anyway, right?


 
From: Me
Sent: Wednesday, September 28, 2011 4:05 PM
To: Hubby
Subject: RE: AFTER WORK


 
Ps – you forgot the attachment with the independent findings of the CWANA "we give you nothing but crap" group.


 
From: Me
Sent: Wednesday, September 28, 2011 4:05 PM
To: Hubby
Subject: RE: AFTER WORK


 
Oh, and you KNOW this is going to be made into a blog post….


 
From: Hubby
Sent: Wednesday, September 28, 2011 4:09 PM
To: Me
Subject: Re: AFTER WORK


 
You clearly missed the disclaimer at the bottom.

* Rule to a happy life supersedes original terms and condition set in place. This rule dictates a happy wife gets what a wife wants.


 
From: Me
Sent: Wednesday, September 28, 2011 4:23 PM
To: Hubby
Subject: RE: AFTER WORK


 
That's right.


 

A couple is 2 a few is 3

I've been trying to teach Hubby the difference between the meaning of "a couple" and "a few". Correction: I've been trying to teach Hubby that those two phrases actually have a numeric value attached to them. I figured this was a necessity in our marriage after a few trips that went like this:

Hubby: "We need to go to the sporting goods store."

Me: "Why?"

Hubby: "I need to look at some camping/fishing/hunting stuff and a couple of other things."

Okay, I could handle that. Meanwhile, TWO HOURS and every product in the store later, I realize Hubby doesn't know that couple & few have literal values. So, I decided to educate him the next time he tried to pull this with me.

Hubby: "I need to go to Wal-Mart."

Me: "For what?" *Trying to finish Blood Red Road*

"I need to look at a couple of things."

"First of all, you don't need to, you want to."

*Rolls his eyes* "You're right; I want to look at a couple of things I need."

Touché, Hubby, Touché. "How many things?"

"I don't know--a couple."

"A couple is two."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"Fine then. A few things."

*Doesn't look up from book* "A few is three."

"No it isn't."

"Yes it is, look it up."

"I don't like being limited."

"Tough, you have to choose. I don't want to wander around Wal-Mart for hours; it's a black hole in that place. Seriously, who puts water filters for Brita pitchers in the auto section?"

"What if I need more than three things?"

"For you, that word doesn't exist. Three's your limit"

"Fine, a few things." At which point I think the conversation is over. But then I hear him say under his breath, "Or right around there."

Just when I think I've got him….

Happy Thursday, my friends!

Tris is a BadAss

A conversation between me and rock star coworker, Justin.

(Note: I am a girly-girl in every sense of the word. I LOVE shoes, purses, clothes…you get the idea. While I also am an adrenaline junky and enjoy physical activity and outdoor things, this is still a pretty funny story for anyone who knows me and sees me on a daily basis—in my fancy shoes, especially the glittery ones)

SETTING: Justin is in his cubie, working like a madman on his two computer screens, mounds of paper work and other coworkers (such as myself) interrupting his flow of rock star-ness.

ME: Hey Justin. Lean against his cubie wall, ignoring the fact that he’s busy.

JUSTIN: Hey. Glances my way, continues to type.

ME: How’s it goin'? I am here to be entertained, darn it.

JUSTIN: Busy.

ME: Huh. Hey, wanna hear something cool?

JUSTIN: Sure.

ME: Lunch date with Lemons next week, 12:30, that European pizza place downtown. 

JUSTIN: Courtesy laugh as he continues to work. Great multitasker, that Justin is.

ME: Wanna see something cool? I’ve been waiting ALL day to share this with someone. Justin is the PERFECT candidate.

JUSTIN: Finally ignores his work to give me the 100% of his attention I deserve. Of course!

ME: I hold out my left hand palm up, and show him the injury I obtained over the weekend (Okay, so I was going to take a picture to show you all how dang impressive it was, but it wasn’t gory enough. I wanted it to turn yellow and purple with bruising, but I did such a good job taking care of it when it happened, nothing ever came to fruition, thus, I will describe it to you. It looks like a small bite mark, a really small bite mark--like Fae from the Dark Court small--and it’s bloody, and slightly bruised and swollen and impressive. Oh, so impressive. It’s in the meaty part of my hand where my pointer finger meets my palm.)

JUSTIN: Brows arch in a somewhat impressed fashion. Ouch. Looks like it hurt.

ME: Nods. Yup. It did. But only a little. Wanna know how I got it?

JUSTIN: Of course! Typical excited Justin response. It’s great.

ME: Shrugs shoulders, tries to act nonchalant and “everyday-ish” about this. Cleaning my gun.

JUSTIN: Pregnant pause. Silence. Erupts in laughter.

ME: I know! It’s so cool isn’t it?

JUSTIN: Still laughing. How’d you get it?

ME: Pulls out the lingo and info Hubby spouted me when I insisted he teach me how to properly and responsibly use and clean my gun. Well, I’d just finished cleaning and putting together my 9MM, and was doing a trigger test. When I pulled back the slide and let it go, my hand got in the way and it pinched my skin.

JUSTIN: Did you cry?

ME: No. It kind of hung there. I couldn’t get it off myself. I was like, Hubby, Hubby. Get this off. He kind of looked at me and then the gun.

JUSTIN: Laughs some more.

Co-worker Janice walks by.

ME: Hey, Janice! Wanna see something cool?

JANICE: Sure, babe. Walks over.

ME: Shows hand.

JANICE: Looks like you got pinched.

ME: Uh-huh.

JANICE: Doing what?

ME: Cleaning my gun.

JANICE: Laughs at me. Literally AT me. Honey, you need to wait for it to bruise up more before you go showing it off. More impressive that way. Walks away.

ME: Scowls a little but still darn proud of my wound AND how I got it. Thinks to self: I wonder if Tris ever got one of these while cleaning her gun during the Dauntless initiation. Then I shake my head. Who am I kidding? Tris is a Bad ass.

 --Me

My Taurus PT92 - 9MM

Why I dislike my neighbor. Intensley.

Every neighborhood has one—a neighbor whose sole existence is waiting for the mail, looking for CC & R violations, and making your life hell. With a capital “H.” Hubby and I have been lucky in that we haven’t had to go far to find ours. She lives next door in the form of a 69-year-old “feeble” woman with a one-eyed Pomeranian.

We’ve owned our house for the past 5 or so years and have come to one conclusion: with the exception of a few neighbors, the remainder are less than desirable. Let me explain the math (and yes, I am a tad cynical today due to lack of sleep and not enough coffee in stock this morning to remedy the situation). A few weeks ago I had an “encounter” with my Arch Nemesis (who we’ve had constant problems with). I thought I’d share the visual aids—and actual pieces of evidence—to help tell the story. What you should take away from this? Be prepared when you attempt to take me on. Especially when you try to use sarcasm in your attacks.

Oh, PS - I am a nice person. I like you until you show me I shouldn't. Like she did. :)

Okay. So, the back-story:

We don't have a fence on that side of the yard and it's been pretty ambiguous as to where the property line is, so we both have been mowing a little into each other's yard to cover the mowing. A couple of weekends ago, I noticed a small, white, metal hook in the front yard about where the property line could be. I didn't know what it was for, so I removed it, mowed, and put it back. This two-page letter from her is the result.

Two words: Eight inches. I took out my ruler.

"Never go against a Sicilian when death is on the line"!"
--Vizzini  (The Princess Bride)



--Me

Busy, busy, busy and Fast Five

So this weekend was actually pretty jam-packed. And I loved it.

I went opening night (Friday), with a friend, to see Fast Five. Some of you may be rolling your eyes, but this latest installment was by far, the best of the Fast and the Furious movies. It had a heist flare to it and was sooo funny. Not to mention it had an All-Star Hunk team going on (Vin, Dwayne, Paul, Tyrese, and Ludicrous). Talk about tag team! Know what would've made it better? Jason Statham. Yup. Sure would.

Outside the movie theatre, they had a life-sized cardboard cutout of all of the guys, and my friend wanted a picture with them. I was totally going to do it, too. Until we exited the theatre after the movie ended and I saw the crowd of people waiting to be let in for the next showing. One thing you'll quickly realize about me is that I talk a big game. It went something like this:

Pose with the cardboard cutout of Dwayne? Sure! He's my boyfriend so it's really no big deal.

Wait.

You mean, there'll be people there? Watching me? And possibly talking about me?

Ya know, I see Dwayne all the time, so really, it's no big deal that I get a picture with him this time around.

My friend insisted she still wanted her photo. I tried my best to convince her it would be better lighting for the picture if we waited for the crowd to pile into the theater. She didn't buy it.

At this point, I think she rolled her eyes at me, pointed out that I'm all talk and no follow through, and then called me a baby. To which I fully agreed. But, we waded through the crowd anyway, where she placed her hand on Vin's butt (yes, I have photographic proof. She says it was his shoulder, but I don't know of anybody with their shoulder that low), and I lined up to take the picture. Of course we were in front of dozens of "car guys" and I could feel their eyes boring into the back of my head and my face turn a burning red as a result.

"She can take her picture with me. I look like Vin Diesel."

I turned around to find the voice and offer a weak smile, but instead tried to hide my laughter. Standing in front of me was a scrawny white boy in a hoody (pulled over his head) and baggy pants. He was shorter than me and had a long hair lying over his shoulder (my friend and I later discussed his hair, trying to figure out if it was his beard or a ponytail).

Then he said, "We pretty much have the same build."

I turned back around and snapped the picture with my friend's phone, and then took one with mine; to which another guy said, "Gotta get one with both phones."

I was about ready to DIE.

I grabbed my friend's purse and weaved me and my embarrassment through the crowd and into the clearing of the lobby. I turned around to say something, but my friend WASN'T THERE! I stood on my tiptoes and searched for her.

And found her. Talking with the group of guys we'd just left. Laughing and conversing. Having a great time. When she finally found me she'd told me she made four new friends. And here I was, cowering in the corner, abandoning my photo opp with Dwayne. 

Bottom line: I need to work on my "Who gives a crap?" line of thought and my follow-through. Twist at the waist, and swing on through with the shoulders. 

Saturday found me at a dance performance a couple hours away (love the road trips) where I was introduced to the best Mexican food ever by some friends. It was just a hold-in-the-wall sort of place, but they had the best bean and cheese burritos, let me tell you.

Sunday night, I had over my sis and her hubby and their four awesome kids. They are the best nieces and nephews in the world. Hands down. I'm serious, folks. We all ate my homemade enchiladas which were A-MA-ZING. I may not have follow-through, but I can cook!

And last but not least, I got four FIVE (one just arrived) ARCs in the mail! So excited! :) But when would I ever NOT be excited about getting another book? Especially when it's f-r-e-e!

The Secret Lives of Bubba Segi's Wives

by Lola Shoneyin

Original Sin

by Beth McMullen

Wildfire (Coolest cover EVER--and not just because the Calle Lily is my favorite flower)

by Karsten Knight

Noah Barleywater Runs Away

by John Boyne

The Map of Time

by Felix J. Palma

I think that Simon & Shuster really likes me (which is good, cuz I really like them). This is the fourth book they've sent me that I haven't requested! They even included H.G. Wells' The Time Machine book with Palma's. Can't wait to get started!

--Me

Freebee Friday!!!

People often say to me, “The media gives so much attention to Michelle Obama and her ‘toned’ arms, but really, she has nothing on you”, to which I offer a shy smile, a modest shake of my head, and politely say it’s not true.

Then, with a casual stretch, I ever so subtly strike a body-building pose to properly show off my arms and shoulders.

Not really, but that was fun.

Seriously, though. I don’t think it’s that big of a mystery how we women get amazing arms and shoulders with the things we have to carry around on a daily basis. Kids, groceries, shopping bags, purses.

For me--along with working out at the lowest level possible--I have my purse to thank. I call it my Mary Poppins Handbag, because it has everything but the kitchen sink in it.

Because, come on, what if I get stranded and need something to eat or drink? Disaster averted! Water bottle and Zone bars!

What if I get bored in the sporting goods store with Hubby? Problem solved! Five books and a game-packed Droid for entertainment and variety.

Sudden genius book idea strikes? No worries. Notebooks abound (and sometimes, even my hp mini is present).

You get the picture. Carrying around this behemoth of a bag definitely pays off. Today was especially glorious in regards to what it contained. I always get comments from co-workers and Hubby about what I brought with me, so I thought I’d share with you the treasures of--one of my many--purses.

Keep in mind, that I’m carrying this around work and upstairs in heels.



My well-endowed purse

Contents: (photographic evidence below)

• 2010/2011 teal leather planner

• two Tupperware containers, contents of which are my lunch

• bottle of raspberry green tea--my own concoction

• sunglasses of the movie star variety (I have to practice for when I'm rich and famous)

• coffee--the substance on which all life exists (at least mine)

• shoes (I wear my slippers from the car to the building, it’s my trademark here at the office. Today it was my brown ones, but usually it’s my fuzzy striped pink ones)

• socks--who knows why--oh that's right, they're for the gym!

• toiletries (lotion, lip gloss, chapstick, more lotion--stress reliever scent, eye drops, pepper spray, floss picks)

• manila folders with a friend’s work I’m critiquing

• my blue folder from SFWC contents of which are pure gold and future blog post ideas

• a couple of notebooks (the pink snake skin one is tracking my querying process for White City, the black one is just for notes)

• my wallet--sans money, if found please email (Wait! I see a random dollar bill in there!)

• Orbit Sweet Mint gum (the best ever--never leave home without it, that’s an order)

• a smaller red note book with my NaNo sticker on front

• my life in the form of a thumb drive--seriously, I lost it once and went into a catatonic state for days

• (deep breath here) my iPod with Hubby’s Zune earbuds--apple earbuds SUCK as one always dies before the other every 6 months or so

• a list of agents to query

• a napkin--don’t ask me why

• my car keys (even though I didn’t drive here)
• highlighters
• pens
• my badge for work
• Zone bars
• five books. Just in case.

Contents of said purse. It's like the clown car at a circus

There you have it, folks. The reason my arms are more impressive than Michelle’s (plus I can do triceps push-ups and pull ups. Yup, there was an italicized “and” in there).

Proof that I always like to be prepared for just about everything possible. Except a natural disaster. Or the zombie apocalypse. *shudder*

HAPPY FRIDAY!
(I've had an acceptable amount of coffee now)

--Me



Why I Love Family Outings

So Hubby and I had a fun little adventure yesterday in the Owyhee Mountains. Our family outing left me hobbling like Quasimodo and sounding like James Earl Jones. My poor butt hurts even when I sit, my right peck muscle feels like it’s been ripped from my chest and I can’t lift my arms over my head.

I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge, the outdoors, or solving a puzzle. But, when you mix those three things together with freezing rain, mud, chilling winds, night time and being an hour’s drive away from any civilization, I tend to become a little less inclined to participate. But, before I go on to tell you the story; I want to put the minds and hearts of those of you that were freaked out by my fb status, to rest.

Sass the Machine is alive and well and back at home.



Geode (Thunder egg)



I complain a lot to Hubby about how we don’t do enough outdoor activities, like hiking and camping. So, when his dad suggested a family outing, he thought I’d be ecstatic. Me? Not so much. When I envision hiking, I think of mountains and trees. Hubby’s vision: foothills, in the desert, looking for rocks. Thunder eggs, actually. But, being the AMAZING wife that I am, I agreed to go (Hubby will tell you there was a lot of sighs, eye rolling and foot stomping, but don’t believe it).







Dad's paint job



The day started off with everyone meeting at our house for a big breakfast, which was a lot of fun. Those present: Me, Hubby, Bobblehead, Hubby’s dad and mom, and his sister, her husband and their two kids (4 and 2.5). When the eating and coffee drinking was done, we all piled into two ginormous trucks and headed out for a small town an hour away. There, we met up with two more adults and four boys, ages 8 – 13 (I’m guessing here). Then, it was another hour out into the boonies, in the middle of the Owyhee Mountains with no cell phone reception.



A view through the window



The drive was long and somewhat uneventful; so we had to make things interesting for ourselves. In the giant white Ford was Yours Truly, Bobblehead, Mom and Dad. The road was (unpaved, obviously), rutted, muddy, bumpy, steep and on occasion, treacherous. Bobblehead was in the back seat asking, “Can I drive yet? Can I drive yet?” (after all, it was his car). Mom was in the front seat closing her eyes and praying for us all to arrive alive to our destination, Dad was effectively and efficiently changing the paint job on Bobblehead’s truck to a nice, muddy brown, and Hubby and I were sitting back and being entertained by his brother.



Besides the clockwork question about driving, Bobblehead squirmed out the back window into the bed of the truck to check on the two German Sheppards kenneled in the back (at one point, one of the kennels had flipped over; the poor dog pooped herself and threw us—they both get carsick). When Bobblehead returned back to the inside of the truck, he took out his .22 and unrolled the window. Time for target practice with a moving target: a salt lick.

Ping, ping, ping, ping

Mom: “Are you shooting that gun from inside the car?”
The entire truck smells of gunpowder

Bobblehead: Pause. “No.” As a shell casing lands on my foot.

That grew tiresome after a while, so we decided to motivate Bobblehead for something more entertaining. Like counting coup with the cows (counting coup is what Native Americans used to do with their enemies. It was considered more manly if you could touch your enemy and return to tell the tale. Dad does it with animals, so Bobblehead decided to try). Cows and their calves were aplenty on this trip. Bobblehead thought touching one of the babies would be easy. But as he said upon re-entry of the truck, “Those little suckers are like turbo cows with rockets!” (The video doesn't capture everything, but it gives you an idea)

We made it to our destination, but the mud was so bad, and the hills so steep, that we had to abandon the vehicles and hike the rest of the way in (it felt like 3 miles, but it was probably closer to 2).

Parker's Kingdom

The next 3 – 4 hours was spent hunting for thunder eggs by most of the adults. I decided to hang out with a pretty stellar kid named Parker. Together, he and I, Sass and another lab, Lucy, ran around like crazy people, climbing rocks, boulders, and cliffs. Each time Parker scrambled to the top of the tallest point, he’d yell out, “I’m on top of the world!” It was a lot of fun. We even caught a blue-bellied lizard.



A Blue-bellied lizard



Towards the end of our day there, Bobblehead and his brother-in-law decided to go and get the trucks and drive them up so we wouldn’t have to lug out all the rocks collected. Plus, we were all tired and worn out.

Very thoughtful. We’re still trying to find out whose idea it was so they can be properly thanked.

We load everything out, hop in the cars, Bobblehead’s truck leading the group, get about 20 yards or so, and I feel the entire left side of the truck sink into the mud. (pic) The inside of the car is so quiet, you can actually hear the mud swallowing the tires with a slurp.

It’s a good thing we had six grown men and three good-sized boys. And shovels. Thank God for the shovels. Upon inspection, it was documented that the tires were about half-way sunk into soupy mud. The guys all grabbed shovels and formed a chain gang, digging trenches for the wheels, while the smaller kids and women pulled grass and plants to try and soak up some of the water and give the traction tires. We felt a bit like the Hebrews making bricks for Pharaoh. At least if we were stranded in the wilderness we’d be skilled enough to make a nice, mud brick house.

Stuck the first time

Eventually, we got the Ford out, and Bobblehead gunned it back down the hill to a slightly safer area. Brother-in-Law decided to give it a shot next, with his diesel Dodge. That got stuck, too, not as dramatically as the Ford was, but still unable to move anywhere. We all tried to push it, but all that resulted was mud-splattered men and a broken bumper. Mom drank hot coffee, directing traffic as the men tried again to free the truck. Without our direction, they surely wouldn’t have been as successful as they were.





It was discussed that Bobblehead’s truck would be powerful enough to pull the Dodge out of the mud, so Bobblehead went to get the Ford. But, on his way back up the hill, it got stuck. Again. This one MUCH worse than before. It took about twice as long to get it out. Many plants donated their lives for the freedom of those honkin’ mud tires. We thank you and morn your loss. Eventually, Bobblehead and the hard work of many guys freed the truck, and it was coaxed to safety and a somewhat swamp free area a hundred yards or so down the road. Where it sat.

The Dodge

We tried again to get Dodge free, but that wasn’t happening. So, we packed out. We still had the other vehicle, a Suburban, a few miles away that we hoped would carry seventeen of us to civilization and to freedom.

Oh, wait. It started to rain. And the wind picked up. So, we piled four dogs into two kennels in the back of the Dodge (which, thank the Lord, had a camper top on it, so they were somewhat protected from the elements and the freezing temps). Tara and Icy (the Sheppards), and Sass and Lucy each sharing a kennel, and off we trudged, towards the car.



The men talking about the problem.
You can't see it from here but
Mom's directing traffic off to the left.



It’s amazing how two miles turns into two hundred when you’re in the conditions we were. By the time we all made it down to the Suburban, my jeans were soaked from bottom to top and the sun had set. We all piled into the eight person vehicle, said more prayers (something is wrong with the transmission and it periodically shuts off, the roads were still very ify, and stress was high). By the grace of God alone, we made it out of the Owyhees alive and in one piece, but let me tell you, it was touch and go for a while there, including the tranny giving out at one point.

The boys called in some favors and got another, bigger truck with a winch to go back out there this morning, in the wee hours, when the mud was frozen and managed to get the trucks out of the mud. I was told, that when they opened the back of the Dodge to check on the dogs, that all four girls gave them looks that said, “We can’t believe you did this to us. Come a little closer and we’ll eat your faces.”

Sass is in one piece, and little worse for wear, but alive. She’s been sleeping all day and trying not to move. Not even for food. I’m tired, and could probably sleep for another day. But, I’m happy to report that I have another adventure under my belt.

Moral of the story: buy foreign trucks. Better yet, just don’t go outside at all.




How we all felt on the car ride home

 

--Me

Freebee Friday!!

Things are a movin' and a shakin' at your local Sbux thanks to their 40th birthday.

I heard from a friend in New York that their new Tribute blend is pretty tasty.

They also have new mini desserts they call Petites (and if you go in from 2 - 5 pm, from the 10th - 12th) you get one for free when you order a specialty drink!

You've no doubt seen their new logo by now, but did you know they've had four of 'em?!? Apparently I've only been a devoted follower since 1992.

And last but not least, the introduction of their newest size, the Trenta. At 31 oz (916 ml), it's officially larger than the average adult stomach (900 ml). It should be out by May 3rd.

Happy Friday, everyone!

--Me

Time to Tell You About My Trip!

 Now that life has somewhat settled down and gotten back into the easy groove of my normal routine (and now that I’ve somewhat caught up on the sleep I missed out on while in San Fran), I have the sense of mind to sit down and write a half-way decent post about my trip.

Since it’s also Freebee Friday!, I will include lots and lots of pictures. :)

The town of Occidental

How can you NOT fall in love?

After stopping at my beloved In-N-Out, The first part of my trip was spent in Occidental (a BEAUTIFUL small town in Northern California, nestled in the hills and a short trip from Bodega Bay) at my aunt and uncle’s house. That was probably the highlight of my trip, to be honest. The area of California they live in is breathtaking, their house is gorgeous--with a Japanese theme throughout, and everything was so laidback and peaceful. The town is quaint with only a 5 square mile area and a population of around 1,200. It sprang up from the railroad that passed through back in 1876 (and of course, I have to mention the Bohemian Grove. We did try to find it, but were unsuccessful. Although, food was a more important item on my list than the secret club was).

I ran in this everyday.
So beautiful.

Bodega Bay

While we were there, I went running on the old, hilly roads, realizing that I might die when I do my half marathon in April and my relay marathon in June. We took a trip to Bodega Bay (where they filmed Hitchcock’s The Birds), I scaled the bluffs with the only sensible shoes in the entire bunch (guess which ones they are), and we ate some pretty good fish and chips on the wharf. My aunt took me to winetasting at Lynmar and Iron Horse. I spent a lot of time with my grandma (who I hadn’t seen since I got married), my aunt and uncle, and my two little second cousins, who are in one word: Fantabulous!

The San Fran Bridge from
the back window of the car

After a couple of days in Occidental, it was time to head to San Fran, which in itself was an adventure. It had been raining the entire time we were there (which is awesome – I love the rain, especially in a place that is in the hills, and green, with copious amounts of trees), so all the back roads into the city were flooded. But we made it.

The front of our hotel from

across the street

I felt like a movie star staying at the Mark Hopkins. Everyone was dressed in double-breasted uniforms with white gloves. They pressed the elevator buttons for you and put the napkin on your lap for you at breakfast and lunch. It was AMAZING. The staff at The Mark went above and beyond at all times. After we dropped off our luggage, the skies had cleared for a little bit so we went for a stroll through Chinatown. I bought Hubby a kimono and myself a hand-painted silk robe. The Chinese New Year was that week, so Chinatown was a buzz of activity and people. We were going to go to the parade on Sunday, but our energy petered out and we stayed in the room instead.

High Tea

Thursday afternoon we took High Tea at Top of the Mark with yummy pasteries and iced coffee and then returned that evening for a swing band in full costume and professional swing dancers. It was so much fun. I even had an older gentleman (79, but didn't look a day over 65) teach me how to dance.



View from Top of the Mark



Friday, Saturday and half of Sunday was spent, from 7:30 AM to 11PM with classes and workshops. I was exhausted but pleasantly so, the whole time. Sunday was only a half day and ended at 1pm after Speed Dating with Agents (which was a fun experience—I’ll tell you about in another post), and I made some fast and valuable friends at the conference that I think I will keep for a long time (you know who you are).

Sunday, Madre and I explored the Wharf, Pier 39, the Ferry Building, street performers, and Ghirardelli Square. I bought Boudin Sourdough bread, a chocolate sundae, and amazing cheese by the Cowgirl Creamery called Red Hawk. It smells like the inside of a ripe diaper, but tastes amazing. Although Hubby tends to disagree with me since our whole house currently smells like Red Hawk. :)



The lobby at The Mark where
Liam Neeson and Samuel L. Jackson
were spotted



While at the Mark Hopkins, two movie stars were spotted in our hotel – Liam Neeson (Why couldn’t I have been there to tackle him????) and Samuel L. Jackson. Oh, the stories & memories this trip has given me!! Okay, this has been a far too long Freebee Friday! Post, so I must end it now.

Happy Friday, all, and I hope your weekend is vundabar!

--Me





 

Sensible shoes at Bodega Bay




The tasting bar was outside over a covered

awning with heaters. It was pouring rain outside.

A completely different experience and

vibe from the other vineyard we visited,

Lynmar, with it's manicured estate.



Vineyards at Iron Horse



Our wine tasting guide, Damien

and my aunt (There's an official title,

but I can't remember it. I think it

starts with an R or an S)



A display in the SEATAC devoted to
Twilight and Forks, WA. Thought this
was amusing and that I would
share. :) It even had
"Forks Sparkle Lotion"

View from the hotel room at night