I need this guy out of my head!

First I need to explain that I have a phobia, an irrational fear, of violent crime. For example, when Ben was just about one we lived in Houston for a summer, we lived in a nice apartment complex, but the people above us looked like they probably carry guns. Everytime Ben would cry I would become afraid they would shoot at us through the floor for disburbing them.

See, irrational. And yet, in the back of my mind, I constantly fear I will be the victim of violent crime. (whoa, having written that makes me think, if I'm always thinking it, will I make it happen somehow. (Note to self: see shrink.))

So this brings me to the reason for my post today. I am hoping writing it out will make it go away.

Yesterday at work a very demanding man came in and wanted to know what was wrong with his car and wanted someone to come look at it. NOW. And no, he did not want to pay to have it checked out. I was the only consultant there at the time and a couple people with appointments came in at the same time as him, so I helped them first. I found out later that while he was waiting for me he tried to get several other people to come look at his car, they weren't technitins, so they did not know what was wrong and he called some of them idiots. Nice.

Anyway back to the point, when I did go help him he wanted to show me something on his car, so I went and looked. I recommended we have a tech look at it, and there is a $35 fee for diagnosis. He FREAKED. Why wouldn't someone just look at it for two minutes for free, what kind of a place is this. I tried to explain polietly and patiently the techs need to get paid for thier time, but that I would be happy to go explain what was happening with his car to one of them and see what they thought. For free.

So I proceeded. While I was talking to the tech, he came into the shop and started arguing with the tech about what he thought was wrong with it. So Lance agreed to go outside and look at it. Give him his free diag. Woo hoo.

A few minutes later they came back, they had stopped by the parts department and gotten a price for the part, and Lance was now looking up the price for labor. The man starts asking me if I will sit down and get a price for him. So I give him the price.

And he starts yelling at me!

Telling me how rude I am, how I wanted to charge him for diag, how I helped other people before him. The thing is, by now, I did have a rude tone of voice. I didn't mean to, I didn't want to, I want to be nice and give good customer service. I started out nice with him, I really did. But he had provoked me for so long, and I should have stayed calm, but he got to me.

And that's when it got bad.

I had tried to apologize, but that didn't really go so well, so I was done. When I tried to walk away, he got up in front of me and would not let me out the doorway. He was purposely blocking me. Showing his dominance. That he could control what I did and when. And it scared me. Two of the techs were nearby, so I knew I was safe. But to have him use a physical demonstration for whatever purpose. To scare me? Intimitate me? Control the situation? I don't know, but it did scare me.

I asked him repeatly to please let me by, Lance told him to back off, and he wouldn't. I wanted to push him out of my, but I kept my wits together enough to know not to touch him. It felt like minutes that went on so it probably took 30 secs. And I can't get past it. When he did finally move, I ran out and he left. I just broke down. I was so shook up.

And it was over, except it wasn't. I couldn't stop thinking about it for the rest of the day, I dreamt about it last night, and it was the first thing on my mind this morning.

Enter irrational. I fear he will come back and I will end up trapped in my office with him, alone this time. I fear he will abduct me. The only thing I don't fear is him calling my team leaders. I know I try really hard to do a good job, and most people like me and think I provide good service. And I know my bosses think the same thing.

So there it is. Cyberspace, please be my ballon, let me put my fear in you. Float away with my fear and eventually land in a field of thorns. Pop and die.

Thanks, Cy, I knew I could count on you.

*by the way, we don't know his name, but he drives a green SL2. So if you ever see a woman passenger in one who is signally you for help with her eyes. THAT'S ME - HELP!

What can I say?

*I wish I could take credit for finding this genius display of humor, but I got it from my very funny friend Jamie. She sends me the funniest emails all the time.

Tag

Oh the anxiety. Just hearing the word tag takes me straight back to the playground. Kids chasing each other, then hitting them. And if you get hit, you have to run and hit someone else. Constant state of high alert.

Deep breath.

So yesterday, Sarah hit me.



Favorite Food


Middle Name

Sorry for stealing your picture Loralee, I couldn't find a better one.


Favorite Place to be


Favorite Color


Place I Like to Visit


My Career



Favorite Holiday


Name of a Pet


Age at Next Birthday


Now I want to hit, I mean "tag", Blaine, Robyn and Melody.
If you want to play that is.

Patriotism, Beauty, and Jerks

This is a photo by my favorite photographer Willie Holdman. I don't even know how to describe his work without sounding like a cheesy boob. (what an image, right?). So maybe I'll make it super duper cheesy, you know to compete with pizza hut and taco bell. Here it goes.

When I look at Willie's work I drift into a dreamland of escape and beauty, I envision myself there, as a part of nature. Not as a human but as Mother Earth. I am beautiful, peaceful, strong, and alive.

Ok. I have never thought any of that crap before, but seriously I dig his stuff. Check it out.

Every fall the most beautiful thing happens, and I lose sense of my Camerican heritage (canadian/american, I have duel citizenship), and feel pure American Patriotism. The leaves on the mountain side turn red, the mountain tops are dusted with snow and the sky is blue. It is so cheesy it's practically provolone, but I love this natural red, white, and blue display.

So I was talking to Shaggy about hiking and somehow I ended up showing him Willie Holdmans site. That led to the picture above and my little story. The Jerk made fun of me. I know this is a story worth making fun of me for, but jeez, do the decent thing and make fun of me behind my back like everyone else.

*side note* The Provo City Freedom Fesitval is coming up over July 4th weekend. Usually Willie Holdman has a booth there, I don't know if he will again, but you should check it out if you can.

So grown up

Over the weekend we took the kids to see Kung Fu Panda. At one point it got a little intense for Roxy, and I heard her say to herself "remember, it's just a film".

A film? How old is she, like 45?

What a great movie for fatties like me. If you haven't seen it, Go. Now. Panda uses his weakness for food to develop his strengths, thus, saving the day.




That's what I'm talkin' about. Now where's my snickers...

What does your animal sound like?

This is kinda fun.
click on one of the animals around the frame and hear children around the world make animal noises.

Don't be a Henry

Oh man, nothing riles me up like that incompetant Henry.

Boy, if I was Liza, I'd tell him how to fix that hole and where to stick it.

JUST FIGURE IT OUT HENRY!

*if you're unfamiliar with Henry and Liza, click here

Enchanted

This is where Roxy goes to pre-school.
I don't even know where to begin to explain my feelings about it.
Her teacher, Miss Teri, is the most amazing teacher I can imagine. She would be a great teacher for anyone, but she is a perfect match for Roxy. Perfect. She teaches using a montessori style, the kids do so much hands on. A couple of weeks ago the kids sewed little pillows. Sewed! I would have never thought of teaching 4 & 5 year olds to use a needle and thread. But why not, they can do it. She instills so much self confidence in the children. She trusts them to be able to do things that are incredible, so they do, and they learn to believe in themselves along the way. And the patience that goes into that, she should get some award from Oprah or something. I will always, always love what she has done for Roxy, and I will always hold Teri in the highest regards.

Ok, so on to the pictures. I rarely take Roxy to preschool because I am at work. I think the last time I went there it was snowy, so on Thurs. when I saw her yard converted into a classroom I nearly died. I was so jealous of those kids who get to spend hours each day there. When I was a child I dreamed of spaces exactly like that. A place to dream, to read, to dream some more, to do crafts, to just be you and thats it. It is truly straight out of my childhood fantasies.


They love climbing this tree.

BACON COMES FROM DOGS!

Today is Fathers Day and I am a loser. I didn't do anything at all for Blaine today. As in NO THING. I have had a really bad cold and I lost my voice and my head hurts, and blah, blah, blah, blah-whine.


Anyway, one time Blaine took Roxy to Wendy's for a daddy daughter date, so Roxy really wanted to take him there for Father's Day. Normally we wouldn't do that on a Sunday, but me not feeling well and not wanting to make food, agreed. Roxy was so sweet, as usual, and insisted her daddy get a new hand blended shake. Then he let her taste his chicken and bacon sandwich, which she hated. That's when she loudly, with lots of disgust exclaimed "Bacon comes from dogs!"

Also, this weekend our ward had the annual Father/son campout. Ben and Blaine had a great time just like every year. They always get really dirty, but this year, Benji actually needed two showers to get clean.


Blaine is a great father. That was one of the major contributing factors contributing to me marrying him. He was really great with my younger sibs and his niece Mady. I used to think I didn't want kids, it was just to overwhelming, but I knew with him I could tackle it.

Right from the start he was great. He, on his own, came up with the plan that if he was home, he changes the diapers. Fine with me! And he really did. He felt bad that I did all the feeding, so in order to be involved, he always brought the baby to me in the night. All I had to do was lay there, he got up nearly every time.

Now that are kids are bigger he is so fun for them, they play catch, swim, go to the skatepark, have makeovers, etc, etc. I'm really grateful he is my kids Dad.

Parade of Homes, Holy Snot!

Before I get to the homes I have to tell you about the snot. We were at this great house in Provo and they had cookies in the kitchen for all the visitors. That was very clear, they told us so right when we went in the front door. So my kids patiently go through the house waiting and waiting for the cookies. When finally they earned a cookie there were two 'way better than me and my kids because they might actually someday buy a house like that, or at least sound really, really great because they are very intently talking about the paint colors' ladies stading right in front of the cookies. These two self absorbed sweet ladies would not move. And it wasn't just my family that wanted the cookies, there were other plain folk there that were also not good enough for the cookie-gaurd-snobs to move. Anyway, I feel better now.

We try to go to the parade of homes every year and every year I get a new favorite. This year my new favorite is house #13. It is totally excessive. I mean TOTALLY. There are a few days left to get to the houses, you really should go see as many as you can. I tried to post a pic of my fav house, but I'm not that smart, so please just take my word for it.

The lamest thing I've ever seen at the parade happened this year too. It was at the same house as the snot. #16 in Provo. The driveway is down a hill with a sharp turn, a very steep hill, and a very sharp hill. Seriously, it sucked. But what sucked even more was coming home to my house. I hate the parade of homes for that reason. I don't know why I torture myself that way every year.

Don't Judge Me

just because currently there is an ad for vaginal odor right above my photo. I don't choose what they advertise.

I've got a theory

Ok, so when it's really, really cold out I hear people say "just think of someplace warm". I say "Heck no!" Why would I want to draw more attention to the fact I'm not there, I'm not feeling the warmeth. That just makes me colder and more depressed. When I'm really cold I imagine being naked in an igloo. Sitting there on an ice block, no polar bear fur to warm me. What's colder than that? Now my air conditioned office doesn't seem so bad.
Likewise, when it's hot, I try to think of someplace hotter. My solution is usually my car that has been parked outside in the middle of August in Phoenix. Nothing's hotter than that. Which caused me lots of trouble last summer when I was living it. I literally have not experienced anything hotter. But those of you who know me, know my theory on the Phoenix area. Heavenly Father's up there shaking his head going 'I give them this beautiful earth, and they live there, people aren't supposed to live there, I made it for the trantulas and scorpians.'

Shakin' His head.

Look what I made (with some help)

Particles are Particles

I don't claim to be that smart (right now Blaine is laughing his head off) and I think maybe it was Einstein or someone who said matter is matter, you can change it's form but it still exists. Maybe he was talking about energy, I don't know. But it doesn't take a genius to use that information and realize just how disgusting toots are. That particle I smell in my nose, is the poop that used to be up your bohonkus. Once I realized that, my life changed for the worse. I used to think, oh everyone does it, you can't help it. BUT I DON'T WANT PEOPLES MICROSCOPIC POOP IN MY NOSE!

Delivery stinks

Having a baby, (and I do mean birthing it) is truly one of my favorite activities. I know I've only done it twice, but thats enough to know isn't it. All of you au naturals are probably thinking "well she must have gotton an epidural - and that's bad for the baby", and you're right I did get one and your wrong, my babies were fine.
But recently, I learned something really disturbing about childbirth, no not the pooping thing, I already knew about that (I only did it once though-poop free the first time). The stinky thing I learned is that it stinks; smells bad. I asked a few other moms and they didn't know either, so I started asking dads. They all knew. Today a delivery doctor came into my work so I took the chance to verify this dad-cia style secret. And it's true. He said the smell is the amniotic fluid which can be made worse if there is meconium in it, he also said it can be made worse by bad hygiene. Ladies, I know it gets hard to reach, but save yourself the embarassement and clean up.