Drum roll please.....

It has been a while since I last posted anything and I have good reason, too. 1) I had news that was not ready to go public. 2) All other happenings paled in comparison to #1 and 3) All of the other said happenings could not be completely explained without divulging #1.

So, want to know what #1 is? Do you? You probably already know and if you didn't you are smart enough to have figured it out. What news, from a 30 year old female, married 5 years (almost), has to be announced at just the right time? Yep. I'm pregnant; 13 weeks today. Due November 5th. No, we don't know the sex of the baby as it is too early and yes we are going to find out the very first chance we are given because we are not the patient types. Well, I'm not patient and Ryan likes to plan.

If it's a girl Ryan will think of all the ways he can get her to play soccer and basketball - he seems to think if it's a girl she will not want to play sports. I am trying to tell him that he is just tempting fate with his poo-pooing of a girl's desire to play sports and talking up the natural desire for boys to play sports. If he doesn't watch it he's going to get a boy who doesn't like to get dirty and would rather bake snickerdoodle cookies with me than play a sport.

What other questions for the woman with a bun in the oven? I have not had morning sickness. There have been a few times when I felt mild waves of nausea but they were so mild that I had to stop and think, "Hmm, am I feeling queasy?" Hardly counts as morning sickness.

Instead of morning sickness I got an extra helping of tired. I heard that pregnant women were more tired than usual but this has been unreal. If I wake up at 7:30 in the morning I am ready for a nap by 9:30 - AM, as in 2 hours later. No joke. My productivity at work has taken a serious nose dive. I am good for the first half hour since I start work at 9:00. Then, out of nowhere, the pregnant fairy waves her fatigue wand and *poof* I'm exhausted. I perk up right before lunch then half way through I'm ready to sleep again - this time it lasts right up until I am ready to leave work for home and sometimes it lasts all evening. Last weekend I took 5 hours worth of naps on Saturday and on Sunday. And I was still tired.

I think the all day exhaustion is easing up a bit since it is 7:30 in the evening and I'm awake. Today I was only tired for about a quarter of the day. When I'm tired I get grumpy and cry at the drop of a hat. Fortunately I've only had to run off to the bathroom at work a couple of times to cry.

That's the big news. A couple of weeks ago - no make that about 2.5 months ago I was debating on whether or not I should leave my current job since I saw that I was going nowhere fast. There were promises to promote me as the company grew and the operations manager needed help but alas the company would not grow in the time frame everyone had set out in their business plan. I kept trudging along as the Agent Services Administrator (receptionist w/ a minor role as an office manager of sorts). Finally I could take it no more. There were major changes in management, which were for the better, but I didn't think I could work with the new proposed head honcho - who happens to be a terrific woman and great business woman but her style was too corporate for me.... Anyway... I decided it was time for me to jump ship. I interviewed with Redfin and was offered a job - it payed a little more and would have allowed me to take my dog to work (I told them they should meet my dog before making that kind of offer - Kea is a super freak of the wiggly sort). But the interviews came just days before I found out I was pregnant. I even told Redfin of 'my condition' and they still wanted to hire me knowing that I would only be there until November. There was even talk of me working from home - even a few hours after the baby was born if I so desired.

Not being one who likes change I decided that I should only go through one huge life change at a time. I really hope I made the right decision. I'm really not liking my job but that shouldn't be too surprising - being a receptionist is not the most exciting or fulfilling job out there.

That's all I have for now. I think my next post will be about my wierd dream that was, I believe, influenced by my friends living in Palestine and by the t.v. show Jericho (I'm a t.v. junkie).

Distractions

This is going to be a quick post. I wanted to put it up while I was most concerned with it - at work but that wouldn't be right, now would it?
But it's not right to have the picture on my computer desk top set to be such a distraction, either.
Bob is such a distraction when I'm at work. I can't stop looking! She is so darn cute! I know I should change my desktop but how can I? I sit there at my desk and take a peek. I know I shouldn't look because I get stuck staring at her.
For those of you who have been to my house you think I'm lying about having two cats because you only ever see Gwen, the fat white cat. Bob takes off at the first sound of footsteps coming up the stairs from the sidewalk. Poor kitty, she's deathly afraid of everyone but me and Ryan. It's only been in the last year that she lets us hold her - and she does so grudgingly. Last night I picked Bob up off our bed and brought her with me into the living room and sat down on the floor where Ryan and I were playing Blokus. I was expecting Bob to jump out of my lap the second I sat down but she stayed for several minutes! It was a breakthrough! It may not sound like much but we've had Gwen and Bob (they are sisters) a month after we got married - it's taken 4 1/2 years and Bob finally sat on my lap after I picked her up and put her there. (I think she may have walked across my lap a few times; it was not out of affection, I was just in her path).

Zoolander

Ryan took me up skiing last weekend. We left at 9:00 am and were back by 2:00 and that included a stop for lunch in North Bend.

The lines to get the skis were outrageously long and once you got your equipment there was no place to sit down to put on the boots. I put my boots on and walked over to Ryan to see if he was coming with me to get the skis. He looked at my feet and said, "You're not supposed to put your boots on before you get your skis." Grr. I scoped out a place to plant it so I could take the boots off and put my shoes back on so I could stand in line for skis.

I asked the kid behind the counter - who was probably born when I was in High School to give me the slowest skis possible. Ryan on the other hand asked for freshly waxed skis - another kid, fresh out of diapers, I'm sure, went and waxed them for Ryan. That was sweet of him.

The chair lift is much easier on skis than on a snowboard. I didn't use Ryan as a crutch like I used my friend Nichole last time when I knocked her down in my attempt to stay upright. A group of four kids snowboarding on the chair behind us all fell - like dominoes. It was pretty amusing to watch.

All around me were little tykes on skis, left, right, snow plow. They were so CUTE!!! They could ski in circles around me. Ryan taught me how to turn left. Piece of cake. Ryan taught me how to turn right. No can do. I can't turn right! I'm like the Zoolander of skiing! Ryan says it's because I'm right footed that I can't place my weight on my left side like I need to turn right. At one point I finally turned right but I was going to fast and couldn't stop and I ended up falling. One ski came out of the binding and the other stuck in the snow and I tweaked my knee as my body wanted to keep tumbling but my ski was stuck in the snow. My valiant husband came over and untangled me and let me rest a moment. Since I didn't feel anything tear or pop I got back up and went back at it. This time I made it all the way down the hill. That was good for one day.

It would be nice if we could make it up one more time before the season is over. If not to ski at least to go sledding.

Hodgepodge

Here it is February 25th, 2 months after Christmas and well over a month since my birthday and I have not mailed a single thank you note. Shame on me. What am I doing about it? Updating my blog about how I feel guilty for not writing the notes and mailing them in a timely fashion.

Rules of Etiquette (or so I hear - I should ask one Emily Post) dictate that one has a full year to write thank you notes. By that time line I have plenty of time. I wonder how long that rule has been around? I'm guessing it has been around since the days of Pony Express. I imagine delivering letters took a long time when the postal services transportation system was fueled by hay.

I had vowed to write my thank you notes this weekend but alas, here it is Sunday night and I have a full evening of drying my hair and watching some TV.

This has been a relaxing weekend for me. Quite vexing for Ryan. He is trying to set up our CAT 5, high speed wireless cabling blah, blah, blah. He spent over 2 hours on the phone with Sun Rocket's tech support only to learn their gizmo is not compatible with the wiring stuff he did. So if we want online we have to unplug the whatchamacallit and plug in the dohickey. Then when we log off we have to unplug the dohickey and plug the whatchamacallit back in so we can have phone service.

Yesterday morning I had my 6th rowing lesson and it was only our second time out on the water. The coach said we were her prodigy class because we were doing in our second week what they normally don't get to until the third week. It felt good to know that what felt akward and clumsy to us was actually good for beginers. Hearing accolades was the only warming thing about the experience. It was cold and raining. It wasn't just cold it was c-c-c-c-o-o-l-l-d-d. To top it off my knees started to hurt. Rowing is a lower body sport. Your arms are there to hold the oars and guide them through the water but your legs do the lionshare of the work. Rowing is like doing squats sitting down; I don't do squats - even on a good day. I thought I could power through the pain but it became too much. I finished the practice since my only other option was to jump out of the boat and swim back to the boathouse.

I could have jumped out and swam back since I still left practice soaked to the bone. Once back at the dock we lifted the boat out of the water and hoisted it overhead and tilted it from side to side to empty out the water that accumulated during practice. BRRR!!! Gallons of water poured over us. Cold, nasty Lake Union water drenched us. I stopped at Starbucks on the way home to get a hot coco and I noticed I left a small puddle of water on the counter after I reached my hand across to give the cashier my gift card. When I got home I peeled my clothes off - all three layers were wet enough to wring water out of - and soaked in a nice hot bath until I felt my bones warm.

Maybe I'll try kayaking in the Spring.

Superbowl Sunday

This is going to be a short sad post.

What a difference a year can make.

Last year Superbowl Sunday was a holiday in Seattle. Everywhere you went there was blue and green and silver as far as the eye could see. The city was on cloud nine - not for the whole day but still...

Then the game began and it seemed the world was out to get us. The spots they did on the Steelers and Seahawks were slanted towards the Steelers as it seemed there were many more photos of the Steelers holding the Superbowl trophy thingie than the Seahawks. Then there were the refs whose salaries were obviously paid by the Steelers. Of course, some will argue that the Seahawks played horribly. Whatever. Lame calls by the refs can really put the kibosh on any momentum the team was building.

So, this year it was the Colts and Da Bears. Yippee. I wanted the Bears to win until I started watching the game. The Colts deserved to win the game as much as the Bears deserved to lose the way they played. It's just so sad that I really could have cared less about the game. I don't think I yelled at the TV, not even once. I laughed at the fumbles and not the commercials.

And about the commercials: Who was it that thought a suicide commercial would make a great advertisement for a car? That marketing whiz should be fired. These companies are paying $2.5 million for 30 seconds? You would think the commercials would be mini-Hollywood epic productions. What duds. I did like the uber-cheesy map/monster commercial though. They went low budget and didn't try to hide it.

Here is a kind of stat that makes me happy. At the beginning of football season I saw that losing team of the Superbowl for the last umpteen years always finished last in their division the following year. Fortunately the Seahawks division sucked so we weren't last! We broke the curse! : )

Whistler Part II


If you want to see more photos from Whistler go to the link at the bottom of the post. I hope that link works. I'm new to Picasa and am not having an easy time playing with it.

After a delicious breakfast of Malt-O-Meal (for me - no one else liked it) on our second morning in Whistler we were ready to hit the slopes - er - wide open golf course to go cross country skiing. I called around to find a place to rent cross country skis. The guy I spoke to on the phone told me where his shop was located and gave me really detailed directions on how to get there. I asked him for the address and he repeated the directions. I said, thanks, but can I have the address? "Sure thing," he said, then proceeded to REPEAT directions. Not wanting to sound like a rude American I rephrased my question and tried my best to not sound as annoyed as I was: "Can I get your physical address so I can Mapquest directions from my place to you?" Finally he gave me his address and I was able to get driving directions from the chalet to the golf course. I didn't use Mapquest - I hate Mapquest. Mapquest sucks; it has told me to take exits that don't exist. Once, I needed to go some place in downtown Bellevue and ended up in a residential neighborhood. So I googled his address and got directions.

I left the directions, address and name of the golf course on the dining room table.

Fortunately the guy repeating the directions to me three times drove home one thing: it was a five minute drive north of the village off of 99. So we all piled in Helen's SUV and headed north on 99. Sure enough, about 5 minutes north was the Jack Nicklaus golf club. We started out as a party of five. Hmm, if I had watched Party of Five growing up I could probably make a lame joke here... We soon became a party of three. Nichole didn't take to cross country skiing. She decided half way around our first loop that she was going to go hang out in the club house and Abbotts decided to join her. It was just Ryan, Megan and I from that point on. We spent about an hour and a half going around the golf course. I only fell once on the course and it wasn't on the one downhill part. Megan turned into the pack mule as she had the backpack. We would stop for water and start to peel layers off. Megan graciously offered up her backpack space but wouldn't let us carry it. We took her up on the offer, of course. She had the water and two winter coats stuffed in her pack.

At one point we stopped to make a snowman. Megan and I only had knit gloves so we used our bare hands. Yowza. Playing in the snow with your bare hands kinda hurts. Ryan debated on whether or not to make it a boy or girl snowman. We decided to keep it a gender-neutral snowbeing seeing as how it was a family friendly place.

We decided that we would like to try the more difficult trails and ski to Lost Lake. That was where the real work began. There were hills that we had to ski UP. Skiing up a hill is not that easy. You're standing on the snow, strapped onto very narrow waxed little boards that want to take you make you obey gravity and take you down the hill. As we were going up and up and up I realized that at some point I would have to go down the hills, too.

I fell on EVERY substantial hill. I liked the little hills that dipped down then straightened out and maybe went back up a little hill. Those were fun but the big hills, the ones where you couldn't see around the corner and the ones that just kept going and going and going... they freaked me out. At one point I was hunched down like I was told to do and I felt myself losing control and fell backwards, like I was told to do (better than falling on your face) and slid down on my back and got snow up my shirt. Good times.

Fortunately there was a kind ski instructor who took pity on me and stopped to give me lessons every time she lapped me. She taught us how to go slow down the hills and she taught me how to snowplow. At one point she told me to take my skis off and just walk down the really big hills. : ) Learning how to snowplow gave me enough of a boost of confidence that I think I'll give downhill skiing a try. Ryan was pleased to see me snowplow and it gave him hope that I'm not a lost cause.

We eventually got to Lost Lake and it looked like an open field because it was covered with snow and ice. Eh. Ryan and Megan seemed really excited to see the lake. I pretended to be excited as to not be a wet rag on the experience. So, Ryan and Megan if you are reading this now: I am glad you enjoyed it and I am not sorry that I was there. By time we got back to the club house to turn in our skis we were gone for over four hours.

That evening after we cleaned up all eight of us walked out the chalet, down the snowy road to the mountain and walked down the hillside to the village. It was so cool; we walked to the village from the chalet. That's when the drama occurred. There were two camps. There was the camp that wanted to eat at Earl's and the camp that wanted to eat at Mongolian Grill. I was planted firmly in the camp of Earl. Why would I want to spend my one dining experience in Whistler at Mongolian Grill? I can eat at Mongolian Grill in many a fine strip malls at home. Unfortunately there was a 45-60 minute wait at Earl's; whatever- every restaurant was going to have a huge wait for a party of 8 on a Saturday night. I suggested we hang out at Starbucks but that didn't go over. We ended up going down to an arcade to play games but the change machine was broken, besides, we didn't have cash with us. We splintered off into little groups and I ended up window shopping with Helen.

We stopped in a cool shop with imports from Thailand when I saw Ryan staring in at Helen through the front window. Helen was looking at something and didn't see Ryan boring a hole in her skull with his eyes. I came up next to Helen and whispered in a mildly freaked out tone, "There is a really creepy guy at the window." She looked up and screamed when she saw Ryan. I'm glad Helen has a sense of humor.

The people at Earl's under-estimated our wait time by 45 minutes. We kind of had a fit. That was just not cool. We ended up splitting into two groups of four. There was so much food and I just had to clean my plate. Then we had to walk back to the chalet. It hurt hauling my tired, sore, full self up the mountain back to the cabin. I just wanted to go to bed when we got back but that was out of the question. We ended up playing games until past midnight. Jason was disgusted that some of us were tired and wanting to sleep. He said we were not so old that we couldn't stay up til midnight. Ah, I remember when staying up 'til midnight was routine and only 'old' people were in bed by 10...

So, that's about it for Whistler. We had fun.

If you want to see more photos go to: http://picasaweb.google.com/apriljahns/Whistler02?authkey=NI29MNSOepM

Whistler

We went to Whistler last weekend. I was originally going to snowboard but I didn’t ‘take’ to snowboarding. I did take to hitting the icy ground with my fists and swearing while trying to learn how to snowboard. So for the sake of my oh-so-patient husband (and for the sake of my hands – it hurts to hit ice!) I opted for a weekend of snowshoeing and cross country skiing instead.

I took Thursday off and kind of loafed. It was great. Instead of going to work in the morning I took a gift certificate to a salon by my work and had a pedicure and manicure. ~ Thanks, Meg! So, I had all day to pack for the long weekend, which I did. I also had all day to pack our passports. I did not pack our passports. Fortunately Abbotts asked if we all remembered our passports before we hit the road. I knew the second it was out of his mouth that I forgot them at home. It took an hour to go from the Abbotts’ in North Seattle to our house in South Seattle and back. Abbotts called to make sure I wasn’t driving like a maniac ~ can’t go on a ski trip when you’re dead.

I don’t remember exactly where we were when we encountered snow but I’m glad it was dark otherwise I would have freaked out knowing we were on a small two lane highway that was winding it’s way up a cliff – mountains on one side and a long, long way down was the ocean on the other side. Knowing you can slide off the road and plummet to your death is not a good feeling.

We arrived at the cabin, pardon me, chalet, around 1:30 in the morning. The car wouldn’t make it up the hill the last little bit to our parking spot. It drove in the snow for well over an hour and finally had enough when we were just about there. I’m really glad it waited to poop out until the very end. It really would have sucked to get stranded on the ‘side’ of the itty bitty Sea to Sky highway.

We all hit the sack shortly after arriving. Ryan & co. drew straws at work and we got the second best accommodations (a queen size bed in a private room). Well, I would call it semi-private. Sure, there were four walls but you could hear a mouse squeak two floors away!

Bright and early the next morning everyone but three girls hit the slopes. I wish I had a picture of the guys trying to help Ryan into his ski boots. At one point Ryan was lying on the floor with another guy wrestling his leg trying to get enough leverage to lock in a strap on his boot. It was really funny to watch.

Helen, Nichole and I went to the Village - (that is so much fun to say ~ "What did you do today?" "Me? Well, I went into the Village.") - to buy groceries for lunch and breakfast since we couldn't bring a lot of food across the border. Meat and cheese were forbidden items. Never mind that the grocery store sold Tillamook cheese in Whistler. We went into sticker shock in the store. OK, I went into shock. There we were, an hour and a half north of Vancouver, B.C., in the heart of the resort town known as Whistler, in the cutesy grocery store with the mood lighting, special displays of European chocolates, the deli with the special cheeses and olives and the bakery with every kind of baked good your little heart could desire and there were the price tags on the said goods. The teeny, tiny price tags. And no, I don't mean the price tag itself was small, I mean the cost was minuscule. I was in shock. Was this loaf of bread really only $0.95 ~ it wasn't on a shelf of day old stuff ~ yep, it was good. Then it really hit me. It wasn't $0.95 in American dollars. No! It was 95 cents CANADIAN dollars! It was less than 95 cents for a loaf of bread. *small side note (literally): gas was freakin' expensive but that detracts from the story of the outrageously cheap food*

Listen up Seattle-ites: We are getting hosed at the grocery store! I knew prices were more expensive in Seattle but c'mon! Does it really cost that much less to ship the food Whistler than to Seattle? I understand land and rent are not cheap in Seattle but I really don't think dirt is cheap in Whistler. Sheesh. I'm surprised Nichole and Helen didn't slap me because I wouldn't shut up about the prices.

See the pretty picture up top? I want to go back. Forget tropical vacations where you have to worry about bathing suits and diets. Winter vacations with sweaters and bulky coats are the way to go!

OK, that's all I have for now. I'll write more about our adventures in Whistler in a few days.

I'm officially an adult!

30 years old as of yesterday. Happy one day late birthday to me!

I notice that I've changed the date of 'official' adult status a few times. The first was when I turned 18 - able to vote, then 21 - able to drink, now 30 - able to... ?
Maybe I keep changing it because I don't 'feel' any older. I don't want to wake up one day and say, "Hm, I feel old." Maybe people feel old when their bodies start to fail. That criterion won't work for me either since I've had creaky knees for so long now that I don't consider it an 'old person' ailment.

Ah ha! I have it! The official "official adult" age criteria: 25. The age at which you can rent a car and attend a timeshare presentation. So, I've been an adult for 5 years and didn't even know it.

So... yesterday. My birthday. The first half of the day Ryan and I cleaned the house and at 2:00 his mom and step-dad showed up and they too cleaned the house. The whole time of the mass cleaning effort no one said why we were cleaning like it was a normal everyday occasion for your in laws to drive an hour and a half to visit to promptly begin cleaning. We all knew why we were cleaning but no one said a word.

My bible study girl friends took me to dinner at Guadalajara in West Seattle in the evening. We had a lovely, huge Mexican feast. Heidi pointed out early on that our server sounded like Fez from That 70's Show. Every time he came over I had to suppress the strong urge to giggle and I avoided eye contact with Heidi for fear I would see her trying to not laugh and lose all control.

The girls dropped me off at home and I invited them in to the house. It was odd, the lights were off and the house was quiet. Not even a wiggly yellow dog came to greet me. Do I smell a surprise party? Yes, I do! The lights came on and everyone yelled, "Surprise!" I was surprised. I knew it was going to happen but I wasn't sure who was going to be there. Soccer friends, actually Ryan's co-workers & their spouses turned friends over two seasons of soccer, my girls of course and my family! I was so surprised that they came up! It was such a nice surprise to see my mom, brother and sis-in-law and my Aunt Paulette and cousin Ashley!

Everyone brought gifts. It has been a very long time since I sat on a chair and people stared at me while I opened gifts. Well, they watched, not so much stared. Stare has such a rude connotation. I did decide last night that we need some sort of stereo upstairs. Using the music channels on the TV isn't quite the same as playing CDs.

I got a hula hoop from my mom. I asked for it. I hope that sometime this year I will be able to keep it up around my waist for... any length of time, actually.

It snowed on Wednesday night! It was light and fluffy and compacted nicely into ice over night so I couldn't go to work. : ) I like living on a hill and working on a hill.
I especially like that there is a huge valley between the two hills.
No one expects me to brave the treacherous hills to come into the office.
So Thursday was a snow day for me!

I got so much done! Since I couldn't put off doing laundry any longer and
seeing as how birthday suits are not socially acceptable (nor practical in January) I washed and dried and folded all day long. I even swept and dusted; between the two cats and dog I swear there is enough fur that accumulates in one week to spin yarn and make a queen size blanket.
Would that be gross? Collecting cat fur to make yarn? What's the difference
between that and an angora rabbit's fur or a sheep's wool for that matter?

What an off night. One of Ryan's co-workers and his wife are looking for a new church so he asked Ryan what kind of church we go to and said he would like to come to visit ours. We thought that was pretty cool since we had no idea they were spiritually inclined. Hmm, that sounds like I'm calling them heathens. I'm not. They are really cool, fun and more importantly, nice people. So, we met up at the church.

After the first song I knew it was going to be a bad night. Ryan told Ryan and Nichole (from here on out it will be Abbotts and Nichole; I know Ryan Abbotts hates being called Abbotts but I must), that the 5 o'clock service was a contemporary service. 'Contemporary' is a very relative term. It is contemporary when compared the robed hymn singing choir in the morning but not at all contemporary when compared to a church that has a worship band and plays music that is more like rock 'n roll than hymns. Earl, the senior pastor, likes the music selection to fit with his message. That's cool but every song was slooow and very much like a hymn. Hymn's are great but if I wanted to sing nothing but hymn's I would go to a morning service. So, the music was less than great. Then Earl's sermon, well, Earl doesn't give sermons as much as he gives lessons. Earl's lesson was just not something I was grasping. His reading was from Revelations and it was about God being the Creator. The only thing I really took away from him tonight was when he gave the advice to not read too much into the great creatures in the book of Revelations. That really is something, actually. Maybe I'll try reading Revelations again.

After church we went to Cedars which serves the best Indian food in all of Seattle. OK, I can't really say that with much authority because I've only been to a few Indian places. The wait was supposed to be 15 minutes but was more like 30 and it was crowded as usual. We figured it would be OK because they are so quick to take your order and bring out the food. Wrong. We sat down and had our drink order taken right away. Then a table that was seated after us had their order taken and the waiter left. We were waiting and waiting and waiting for a server to come by and take our order. Ryan kind of lost his cool and yelled, "Hey!" when the waiter left the dining room after scanning it and overlooking us. When he finally showed up Nichole wasn't sure she wanted to order. I don't blame her for wanting to leave. But the food is so good! I hate that I will put up with horrible service and sub-par atmosphere because I want their chicken tikka masala and chai so bad. We did all order and the food was very good but it's too bad the service was so off tonight because they are normally very fast. Not the warmest bunch of servers but the fastest.

So the music was blah at church, the sermon/lesson was less than inspiring and the service at Cedars was the worst. At least the company was good. We are going to try out a new church with Abbotts and Nichole. My girlfriends would disown me if they knew I'm going to set foot inside Mars Hill. I just want to see what it's like. Katie actually said, "We can't be friends if you go to Mars Hill." And everyone else chimed in, "Yes." That made me want to go even more just to test them. I don't like churches where there is no one between the pastor and the congregation. There is usually a token board to counsel the pastor but they are appointed by the pastor and are usually just yes men. I came from a church where the pastor had the final say in everything. Now I see that a church that has some form of government/leadership is a good thing. If the pastor is off there is a governing body to reign him in. I am most interested in Mars Hills' worship. I really miss being out of the Christian music scene. I have no idea who anyone is anymore. The Christian station in Seattle suck. They play really old music and lots of worship music. If I want to hear worship music I'll go to church or put in a CD. I want to know who the latest and greatest is. I'm totally clueless. I occasionally flip over to the Christian station but am always disgusted with their music selection. I always turn it back to the alternative station that plays Death Cab for Cutie, Snow Patrol, Wolfmother, Red Hot Chili Peppers and the like. I know there are good alternative types of Christian bands out there but where they are hiding, I don't know. If you know of any good Christian bands that have come out in the last few years please clue me in.

Lookout, Hollywood!

I think my movie should be out soon. Didn't you know I was in one? Oh, yeah. I'm all that. It was a production by BCC. Bellevue Community College. My character was girl extra number 10. I think I was number 10. I completely forgot to write about the experience when it was fresh in my head. Let's see if I can step back in time to the month of June.... (if you were watching this like a TV sitcom the screen would go kind of hazy and you would see me looking off into the distance....)

Here is the post I started but did not finish this summer:

If all had gone according to plan I would have had a very normal weekend. Well, normal for me. Working around the house, eating microwaved meals that came out of a box and maybe doing a little yard work. About 4:30 on Sunday afternoon I got a call from Krissy. She said that she had a question for me and that it might sound kind of odd. Jenn (Krissy's roommate and my friend, too) passed on an opportunity to be an extra in a movie that was being shot in Kirkland but would I like to be in it as an extra? I think I said something like, "What? No way! When? Where?! Let me ask Ryan!" I got the name of the place and hung up, then breathlessly told Ryan I was going to Kirkland to be a potential extra in a movie!

... now working from my memory....

I took the fastest shower of my adult life and only mildly agonized over the clothes I was going to wear. Krissy told me the scene was a speed dating scene so I threw on a cute black skirt, a shirt that probably shows too much cleavage and left my ring on my nightstand. That felt weird, leaving my "I'm taken marker" at home.

I didn't find out what kind of production it was until I arrived at TJ's, the bar that was the scene of the party. The official looking guy (read: the guy with the clipboard) at the door to the bar was my first clue that the outfit wasn't super prestigious since he seemed really sincere when he thanked me for coming. Who is excited to see an extra? Really?

I sat and fidgeted for a while and kept looking for Krissy. She arrived just as I was calling her. She too was thrown by the sincere thanks for showing up from Mr. Clipboard. We sat and chatted with some of the other extras. One guy was something else. I just felt so bad for the guy. He really wanted to make it big in Hollywood. Really, really, really. I think he also wanted a girl friend. Really, really, really. I really, really, really wanted my wedding ring on my finger. Really. I don't remember his name which is fine because I would rather not publish not so nice things about him and use his name. Not that anyone outside of a few family and friends are going to read this. So, I'll call him James. James took a liking to me and Krissy. I think because we are cute and were nice enough to talk to him and probably because we were the first girls he saw. James was cute enough but you knew he wasn't all right when you looked at him. He was entirely too wide for his frame. He had short guy syndrome; build out if you feel inadequately short. Someone should really tell them that getting wider, even if it is solid muscle, just makes you look even shorter and less attractive. I shouldn't say that, maybe some women like the, "I'm-so-big-and-strong-I-would-snap-if-I-had-to-bend-to-tie-my-shoelaces" look.

Ladies, if you want to throw a salivating guy off your trail and onto fresh blood I have a GREAT answer to the question: "So, what do you like to do for fun?" Or, "How are you two friends?"

James: So, how do you two know each other?
Me: We are in the same bible study.

James, eyes slightly wider, noticeably sadder, but still hopeful: Oh, yeah? What do you guys like to do for fun?
Me: I like to hang out with my husband and you know, go to coffee shops, study the bible.

It was so much fun. Krissy did well and not laughing out loud although I could see she was dying to let it out.

So the scene that probably took up 5-10 minutes of the movie took at least 8 hours to shoot. Ohmigosh. It was sooooo boring. They lined up the girl extras and gave us numbers and told us where to sit. The guys, 'real' actors had to shuffle from table to table until they got to the table with Sarah, the main character, or was her name Amy? Well, one of the guys was really funny. He was the stereo-typical high school jock guy who seemed like he was staying in character. We were supposed to talk quietly so we chatted about where we were from and all that jazz. But he kept asking really personal questions and me, not liking conflict, kept going along until I couldn't take it anymore. I try to show displeasure but people think it's cute ~ no one takes me seriously until I swear. So, Mr. Nosey finally quit asking questions. Meanwhile James kept circulating through and, sorry Krissy, I was much happier when he was at your table than mine. He was too much.

We put our names and contact information on a list and are supposed to be contacted when the movie is done and ready to be viewed. I wonder if Krissy remembers it is supposed to be done sometime right around the New Year. It looked like a really lame movie. I can only imagine how bad the other scripts were that the students submitted for this one to be the chosen one. It's not very original. A girl decides she wants to get married by the end of the year and sets out determined to find her soul mate at the ripe old age of 22. Hilarity (not really) ensues as she does everything she possibly can to meet the man of her dreams. If the speed dating scene was an indication of the rest of the movie: it's going to stink. My favorite character was the guy who played the business man. He was too busy to date so he tried speed dating and was on his cell phone the entire time. He cracked me up! He reminded me of a friend from high school, Rob Bennett.

So, after hours of sitting in tall bar stools and pretending to talk we finally were released to go but were told that if we wanted to make sure our faces were in the scene we could stick around for the next sequence. No thanks. If it hadn't been 11 pm and a Sunday with work to face the next day I would have stayed because it is fascinating to see how a film is produced.

Ryan and I saw part of a film being produced in Paris and it looked just as boring as what we were doing at TJ's in Kirkland. It was November and very cold and the actors were just sitting at a table outside waiting and waiting and waiting. People all around them were measuring. Measuring from the light to the chair, to the mug to the actor to the camera. It was crazy. Crazy boring. Like this post is turning out to be.

GO SEAHAWKS!!!

What a game! I only saw bits and pieces because I was getting ready for my friend Wendy's 30th birthday party that started at 7. It was painful to hear muffled crowd sounds coming through the bathroom door. I would stop drying my hair when I thought I heard sounds coming from the TV and whip open the door and yell, "I heard crowd noise! What happened?" Usually it was nothing good.

Once at the party Ryan and I were good for a while but Ryan eventually asked the host if he could turn the t.v. on to the game, promising he would mute it. The host wisely deferred to Wendy who told Ryan he could if he did it downstairs. At first it was just Ryan then slowly an exodus occurred. I ran back and forth between the party upstairs and the party downstairs. I hope Wendy wasn't too upset I was watching the game. There were not many people that I could talk to upstairs. Well, I probably could have talked to people but why? I don't think I'll see most of them ever again and they were all theater people who've been acting together for years. Hmm, does this mean I'm not the social butterfly I thought I was? Downstairs was a wonderful crowd of people that had a commonality: Football. We didn't have to make awkward small talk because we were too busy yelling at the TV together.

Back to the game: How bad does that holder feel that he could not hold on to the ball that was snapped perfectly well? They kept replaying the botched hold job over and over and over. I can only imagine how awful that guy feels. Oh, well. I would rather he feel bad and the Seahawks go to the playoffs. GO SEAHAWKS!!!

It was a good party even though I only knew 5 people there out of the 30 or so that were there. The birthday girl, her husband Lars - who by the way - seems a little different. He seemed more outgoing. Let's see, who else? The birthday girls' brother, Justin. Very cool guy. It's still wierd seeing Justin as an adult, an adult with a fiance, Kim, at least I think that's her name. I remember when Justin had a cabbage patch doll; Wendy and I have been friends for a very long time... Justin wasn't an adult with a doll, just a very young kid (and my brother and all his friends had cabbage patch dolls, too - that's for you Justin, in case you happen to read this). Justin's band played at my wedding. He and some buddies from school had a jazz band and they were young enough that they would accept the measely amount we could afford to shell out and they were AMAZING!!! Everyone loved them. Worth every penny and then some. I think Ryan liked them so much he paid them a little extra. A little. But a little to a college kid is a lot, right?

So, a great game and great party all in one night. Can't beat that for a Saturday night, right? And, I was so good I didn't even have a piece of cake! If you know me you know how truely shocking that is. I'll indulge in a piece of cake on my birthday... this Saturday! Woo-hoo! I'm going to be 30! I'm so excited! Ryan knows well enough to have a yellow cake with chocolate frosting. One year, I think our first year together he didn't get me a cake and I had a melt down. Well, mini-melt down. I made him take me to Safeway so I could buy a piece of cake. Sounds kind of crazy now that I'm writing it down. Well, let's just call it part of my charm.

I'm dying to know what he's going to do. I've been none to subtle letting him know how much this one means to me and have told him that I want a party. Everyone tells me that men aren't mind readers; although Ryan's pretty good at picking up on hints. If I point out something at the store that I like it may very well end up under the Christmas tree even if it's been 6 months. So, my hints, I think have done their job as Ryan has been Mr. Not-so-subtle recently. That and his co-worker said, "I'll see you in two weeks. I think that's supposed to be a surprise, though." Grrr. I don't mind knowing when I'm not supposed to but sheesh! Can no one keep a secret? I did have one other surprise party. My bible study girls threw me a surprise bridal shower but Amee, then friend and bridesmaid, couldn't hold the excitement in and burst at the house as we were packing up to go to the scene of the party which I thought was just going to be a girls night. We lived in the same neighborhood. It makes me laugh when I think about it. Amee was so giddy! Then I had to act surprised when I got there. They went all out with the decorations but since my mom is probably reading this I'll leave the decorations to your imagination.

Christmas is only four days away. It seems like a lifetime ago when being this close to Christmas felt like being on the threshold of heaven's gates. Does that feeling come back when you have kids of your own?

I do enjoy watching my niece open gifts. Actually, I enjoy teasing her along with her uncle and dad before we open presents. It's a joy only an adult can know. The looks Laura sneaks at the tree start the second she enters Nana and Grandpa's house. She barely gets her obligatory hugs in before she stands by the tree pretending to look at ornaments. The part of dinner that turns from eating and complementing Mom to lingering and grabbing a small helping of this and another bite of that is when the serious case of antsy strikes Laura. She is SO helpful at the end of the meal; rather she is helpful at trying to usher in the end of the meal because she knows we can't open presents with dirty dishes in the kitchen. "Are you done? Can I take your plate?" "Nana, where does this go?" "Mom, can you wash this off so it can go in the dishwasher?"
Ah, that's the best part of Christmas. I hope she likes the Cabbage Patch Doll we got her for Christmas. I can' believe they are back. So are My Little Pony, Strawberry Shortcake and Easybake Ovens! I'd much rather my niece play with a Cabbage Patch Doll than one of those Bratz dolls. How scary are those things? Those Bratz look like slutty little tramps. Gag.

We at least decorated our house this year for Christmas. Last year we didn't do a thing as we moved in and immediately left on vacation and got back days before Christmas. We got a Douglas Fir this year. It's a tad on the big side. We measured the space where it was going to go before we picked one out ~ we just went to the maximum size. And, being a full bushy tree makes the fit seem that much more snug. Ryan put indoor/outdoor LED lights on the tree. It's his job to put the lights on because when I put them on the tree I get angry and start swearing and ruin the festive spirit and Ryan has to bail me out anyway. He's the engineer so he can place the lights and I place the ornaments. But I digress. Indoor slash OUTDOOR lights on a tree. Can you say ugly? Did I mention they are the big bulbs? On the outside of the house they make it look like a gingerbread house, on the tree they make it look tacky. Ryan was so disgusted with my whining about our ugly tree that he offered to buy new lights and to re-decorate the tree. I told him no thanks; I enjoy telling people about our ugly tree. Those big lights on a tree bring back memories of some neighbors who put the big bulbs on their trees. They were hippies and smoked pot and lived in a dark house. Now when I see our tree I see hippies and pot.

Merry Christmas!

I can't sleep. I tried for 15 whole minutes to fall asleep. That didn't work so well. This evenings activities have not been conducive to aiding a restful night. I went for a walk/jog after work for 4 dc Talk songs, so 20 minutes. I took Kea and she actually slowed me down a little. She probably hasn't recovered from her weekend at Camp Monten (my in-laws house out in the sticks - they are very beautiful sticks over looking Hood Canal). I then read part of chapter 5 of Knowing God by JI Packer. I'm woefully behind in my readings and my bible study is going to be discussing the book on Thursday! Reading about the Trinity and other hangups people have about the Christian faith is not something that is going to lull me to sleep. So, I watched a great heathen show, Rockstar: Supernova. Talk about a contrast in thought and action. I started out my evening reading about salvation and redemption and the Word-word play on words that John has in the beginning of his epistle to watching Tommy Lee and Dave Navarro critique aspiring rockstars and bopping my head to a song about someone getting a new .45 and Sanchez had better watch out or, more appropriately listening to "Losing my Religion". Now I have all of this great music in my head, not all of you in my reading audience (Mom) would agree that the music in my head is great but it's there nonetheless and I have beside me, waiting to be read, Knowing God.
While I was reading the thoughts of one Mr. Packer the phone rang. It was a survey and would I like to participate? Me? Give my 2 cents worth? (By the way, I don't like that keyboards don't have the cent sign anymore. $.02 just doesn't do it for me). The survey man asked me a pop culture question. Bingo, I got it right. He then asked me another pop culture question. Again, I did not fail in my knowledge of trivial material. It was the third question that he asked that gave me a sinking feeling. It was a political question!!! I was taking part in a how-dumb-are-Americans? survey!!! It was an easy one though. What are the three branches of the US government. I think the survey guy was surprised when I answered correctly. Two more pop questions. I was getting embarrassed that the pop questions were so easy and I know more than one of my girlfriends would have bombed the pop questions. I missed one pop question (who was the American Idol winner in '06 - and I watched the show. I was happy that I honestly forgot who won). I missed two or three political questions - I didn't' know who was sworn in recently on the Supreme Court and I can't remember the other question I got wrong.
At the end of the survey I said I was embarrassed to have missed the questions that I did and the survey guy told me I actually did better than most people, I told him I was afraid of that.
Hmmm, sitting here and pouring my once racing thoughts into this blog had helped put me to sleep - hopefully you aren't nodding off.

We are making progress. At least that is what we are telling ourselves. The kitchen is done. Well, I need to paint the new sill and Ryan will install the trim. Then it will be done. It's nice to have a place to cook and a place to clean dishes other than the bathtub or creepy utility sink in the basement.
The project that consumed this weekend was the fireplace insert. Last weekend Ryan hauled himself up onto the roof a handful of times to put in flexible vent pipes. I helped him by sticking my arm up the flue to pull the tubes in so he can connect them to the fireplace insert. This week it is about getting the mantle ready.
We bought a mantle off Craigs list a few months ago. It will be pretty once it is painted but right now it is dark brown and looks like it was built in 1960. Kind of ugly. As always there were a few bumps along the way and the design changed. To keep the mantle from getting too hot we had to keep it a safe distance from the insert and to keep Ryan from having to dismantle the entire brick fireplace surround to have access to the gas he had to place the insert out further, closer to the hearth. Now the mantle is turning into a massive structure. We stopped and looked at it this afternoon and thought that the scale was off. Small living room, huge fireplace. So Ryan thought to tie in the fireplace and surround he would make window seats to flank the unit. The fireplace installation gave birth to a new project, built in window seats. He made one in the West Seattle house but this one will be a little different. How, we don't know yet. But I'm certain that it will be cute.

Here is my final post on little Snickerdoo, aka Snickerdoodle, Snicks, Snickers, bunny bun bun buns. The wee little thing died Sunday, June 25th; she was 5 years old. I miss the little rabbit. I waited to post something because I was too upset to think about her for the length of time it would take for me to write this. I'm glad I made my previous post on the bunny, just a month before she died. If you think I'm being silly over 'just a rabbit' I bought her at the pet store when she was just a baby, only a few weeks old and I've had her longer than the cats and dog. She was my first pet as an adult on my own. When I would visit Ryan on the weekends I would bring her with me to Seattle. Then she made the move from Vancouver to West Seattle and finally to Beacon Hill. She definitely had a personality shift since being given some freedom to roam in the yard, she really mellowed out. Although she had a luxurious pad in the other house this last home was definitely the best habitat for a rabbit, some might say the best rabbitat. Ha. Having a fenced backyard was a great change from the small front yard we had in West Seattle where she could only be if on a harness, which she hated, and watched over every second. I wish I had a close up of her face because the fur above her eyes turned really dark, almost black; it looked like she was constantly scowling. I didn't realize how much the color of their fur changes - they are constantly changing colors. She was a light brown when I got her, hence her name, Snickerdoodle. So, that is all for Snicks. Farewell, my sweet little bunny.

I cooked tonight!!! It was a little after 8 pm after Ryan finished setting up the gas for the cooktop. I never thought I would enjoy cutting cold chicken as much as I did. The food wasn't that great, the chicken was a little dry and I didn't have a key ingredient to make teriyaki, namely teriyaki sauce but I COOKED IT IN MY OWN KITCHEN so it was DELICIOUS!!! Not a culinary masterpiece but I don't really care.
Isn't it so pretty? Now we just have finishing touches left, like touch up paint, quarter round, molding around the doors and window. Then it will be done, done, done!
Last night I washed dishes in the sink for the first time. The first thing I did with my freshly washed cute little glass that was passed down from my grandma Mae was pour myself a celebratory drink of my favorite, Bailey's Irish Cream. That was a nice way to celebrate my marginal role in the development of the kitchen. That is not to detract from my role in destroying the original kitchen. I can swing a mean sledge hammer but I'm not so skilled with the plumbing and electrical work.
I hung some pots and pans from the pot rack tonight. I think it makes the kitchen look smaller and a little cluttered so I'm not sure if they are going to stay up there. We can always hang cute utensils up there instead.

I have been letting Snicks out in the yard on the weekends. I've felt bad relegating her and her ginormous cage to the back yard so I set her up with her little nesting box (which doubles as a cat carrier on Vet days) and a cage with the door propped open so just she can enter. I saw a raccoon in the neighborhood the other day and figured I should do a little more to keep the rabbit from becoming a snack. Wouldn't ya know it, the fat, lazy rabbit doesn't take advantage of her freedom! She just sits and eats and eats and eats. The only exercise she gets is a from hopping away from me when I try to pick her up. She'll stay put if I just pet her; she's even started to shove her head under my hand if I stop scratching her head. It's pretty cute. We could get a few more rabbits and not have to mow the yard. Or fertilize it, either, for that matter. Unfortunately she's not discriminate in her munchings. She took out a really cool plant, a tall stalk that had yet to flower. She also likes the mini rose bush and some other ground cover. I moved my potted vegetables away from her hopping radius so hopefully my tomatoes, peas and cucumbers are safe. Yes, tomatoes, peas and cucumbers; look out Farmer Brown! Snick's is 5 years old this spring! She's got 5-7 mores years of hop left in her. Ryan and I had only been dating a few months when I bought her. When Ryan came to Vancouver we would take her to the park and let her hop around on her lead. Taking a rabbit out in public on a leash is a great way to meet people. Or give strangers a good story to tell their friends, at least.

From this to that

This is my first post and I'm not quite sure how it's going to turn out. I think this will be a great way to keep family and friends up to date so I'll just start right in. I have not cooked a meal since December. Well, I did make pancakes in an electric dutch oven and used plastic forks as spatulas once. That was tricky; gently sliding the fork underneath all the way around and then carefully flipping it without tearing it or melting my 'spatulas'. So, here it is, the month of May and our 'kitchen' finally had dry wall installed. Thursday we painted the kitchen; an earthy yellow color. I loathe painting. So many people enjoy seeing the fruits of their labor instantly so painting is a rewarding job for them. Don't get me wrong, I like to see progress as much as the next person but since I'm sloppy with the paint I see the fruit of my labor for several days after - on my arms, in my hair, on my glasses. Despite my dread of the paint tray and roller painting this kitchen had to be the most satisfying of all paint jobs because it was the easiest, the floor was hideous so there was no need for drop cloths, Ryan painted the few inches next to the ceiling so all I really had to do was paint large squares of drywall and not be concerned about painting the wrong surface. It was great. I still have yellow elbows and tiny droplets in the crevices of my glasses. Now we have cabinets installed, and the doors and pulls, too! I installed a lot of the pulls on Sunday but screwed up royally. I don't know what I was thinking. I even pulled out the directions on how to do it and looked at the little picture. Instead of putting a block of wood on the inside of the door to 'catch' the drill bit and prevent the wood from chipping I put the block of wood on the outside and drilled all the way through. So the insides are a bit chewed up, but they are the insides. It also helps that Ryan noticed a lot of the doors were not flush when they were closed - very askew. So we are sending back about 10 doors. This is one time I'm glad Mills Pride sucks, their shoddy product means we can start over with the pulls on most of the doors. (And by we I mean Ryan). He was pretty good about leaving me alone after realizing what I did to the cabinets. I think I clued him when I snapped, "Don't make fun of me! Leave me alone!" And sped off down 4th avenue to get home, he was at work while I screwed up, pun intended. Countertops are going to be installed on the 30th! After that we'll just have to install toe kicks and replace the doors that Mills Pride is shipping to us. That's when all of my excuses for the last 6 months must come to an end. Or I make up new ones. Excuses? Excuses for what? Well, eating junk food. It is very difficult to maintain a normal diet with no kitchen, no pots and pans, no dishes, a few utensils and no place to wash up. (And no desire to set up shop in the bathroom or basement). Now when the kitchen is done I will have to eat good foods, and I will have to cook them, and clean the dishes afterwards! Part of me wants to go crazy in what I hope is my last kitcehnless week at McDonald's. Ice cream, burgers and fries, oh my! Once this damn kitchen is done I'm going to have to become a domestic diva. Cooking, baking and cleaning to my hearts content. If I was nutty about having a clean kitchen before I had a new kitchen I can only imagine what kind of freak I'm going to be as soon as I get my kitchen back.