Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving! I love a holiday that supports gluttony and overeating! But it is definitely a time to reflect and consider all the things that you're thankful for. Currently, I'm in a foul mood and so my list is superficial and short. In fact, only pumpkin pie comes to mind, but I'm sure once I calm down, other things will come to mind.

I guess I can also add that I'm thankful for people who are willing to take in the strays during holiday season. We are not going home for Thanksgiving and so our good and kind friends invited us over for the feast. At first I was reluctant to attend a Thanksgiving dinner with someone else's family, being that I usually prefer solitude to large groups of unfamiliar people, but I opted to shy away from my natural tendencies and to join the other people's family. We'll see how it goes. I wonder if their brothers will each eat a dozen rolls by themselves. I wonder if the words, "Dammit Vicky" will be heard at any point throughout the night. And I also wonder if people will be going for dessert 10 minutes after the dinner began. Not because they are too eager to wait and finish their dinner, but because they already finished their dinner. We'll see. It should be fun.

Deal Breakers

Last night I made the horrible mistake of being what some might call, a 'supportive' wife. Josh had yet another indoor/outdoor soccer game, and I went. Can I just say, blah? Blah! I hate doing supportive things, especially when it means doing anything that takes me away from laying on the couch with a bowl of cereal. Really. I highly resent having to go to work, simply because it requires occasional standing and little or no cereal. Huh. I guess I might be sort of lazy. Weird.

But anyway, I was at this game, and there was a fairly attractive guy standing not 10 feet away. Being human and not wasting the opportunity to admire such attractiveness, I cast casual glances at him, thinking of what I would do to improve his look (meaning I would exchange his chunky Vans for something more loafer-like...). As I was admiring and oogling, he bent over to pick up a dropped phone, and *gasp* I witnessed one of my deal breakers. Crack. I saw crack, and I was immediately trying to keep myself from vomiting. As I tried to concentrate on anything other than hairy crack (it probably wasn't really hairy, but what with the imagination I have... well...), I was thinking of other deal breakers for me and guys. The list was surprisingly short.

• Revealing clothing -I find nothing more disgusting than guys wearing shorter shirts or lower pants, and having to see any amount of stomach, back, or butt. I can stand to see underwear, but I'd rather not. Keep it covered!
• Less than comic-worthy humor -I like my guys funny and yes, Josh is funny. He had to be to catch a girl like me (I don't know what that means but it's meant to infer that I'm a great catch).
• Any guy that weighs less than me -it is bound to happen some day when I get pregnant, because Josh isn't exactly a heavyweight, but until then, we'll stay married. The second the scale proves me to outweigh him, well... I hope our marriage is strong enough.
  
• Guys who can't eat -I'm a big eater and I need healthy competetion in this category. This might tie in with a guy weighing less than I do. In high school, I dated a guy who was incredibly conscience of what he ate and stuff. I was seriously turned off when he suggested I not eat the entire plate of french toast and ingest some fruit instead. I might have shot him. Either way, I can't remember and I haven't seen him since IHOP. Sometime might want to check the dumpster.
• A guy who can't fix stuff -Since I'm constantly breaking things, I need someone to follow in my wake with a hammer and a screwdriver. I need a I-can-fix-anything-you-can-manage-to-break-baby! guy. I love those kind of guys. Especially when they call me 'baby.'
  
• Any guy who can't watch America's Funniest Videos, if there even is such a being -Enough said. That show rules. Josh may not go out of his way to watch it, but I can guarantee he watches. We wouldn't be together otherwise.
  

Meeting a baby?

I had an interesting conversation with a frirend the other day. She had just had a baby not too long ago and having not seen the infant for myself, she suggested I come and 'meet her.' I sat there, wondering what it means to 'meet' a baby. Do we shake hands? Do I introduce myself? Do I tell her I like her shoes? I mean, am I meeting the baby, or am I faking admiration for the baby? Because those are two very different things and I have yet to walk up to a baby, stick out my hand, and have any sort of conversation with the baby that didn't involve me raising my voice 6 octaves.

I guess it comes down to the fact that I sort of get annoyed with new mothers. Having not been one myself, I find them rather obnoxious. I think it's because their entire personality changes once they have a kid and rather than being able to talk about anything other than the new child, you are forced to listen to feeding schedules, night routines, and what baby poop really smells like.

I understand that their life has dramatically changed to revolve around that one tiny little person, but it doesn't mean mine has. I think that new mothers should be sent to an island of some sort. Then they can all sit together, and talk about nothing other than their new babies. They can compare nursing experiences, how many blankets they made in order to prepare, and what their favorite brand of diapers is. They can rejoin society once they realize that no one other than themselves think their child is the smartest, cutest, or most talented 6 week old ever, if that ever happens.

I understand that I will undoubtedly become one of the said obnoxious new mothers some day, but until then, I will continue to be irritated with all new mothers. And really, can you be so much in denial to think that a 2 month old is cute? They're still all squished up and weird looking. Trust me. I've seen the pictures. If you disagree, send me a picture of a cute 2 month old that isn't yours.

My sweet youth

Okay, so I've been pretty much laughing my guts out (is that even possible?) while reading my old elementary school journals. An old teacher gave these to me 2 years ago, after running into me at the store that I worked. She came back a day later, with my journals from 3rd grade. She said she kept them because she thought they were so funny and that I might want them someday. She was right.

February 23, 1996
Yesterday was fun! Haylee, Crista, Liberty, and I all went to Lakeridge Junior High and ran around the halls. The funnest part was when we went into the bathrooms and stuffed our shirts with toilet paper and walked around the school. We tied up our shirts so that our belly showed! It was so funny! Some people even thought we were 7th graders! We were acting just like a 7th grader would! [I hate to imagine what we normally acted like if the goal was to behave exactly like obnoxious 7th graders]

April 15, 1996
On Friday I had a soccer game. We won 4 to 1. It was freezing cold. I was like totally ripping on the ref. He sucked dang bad. The other team was cussing at us. It was funny.

April 22, 1996
Yesterday I went to the nursing home to do the sacrament meeting. It was weird. So many old dudes. They kept asking me if any of the deacons were my boyfriend. Of course I said no way. Who wants a boyfriend when they're 11 years old? Besides a couple girls of course.

August 30, 1995
Have you ever noticed someone's eyes? I have. The thing is that, everybody's eyes are different! There are all kinds of sizes. I have very big eyes. Haylee has quite small. She is my friend. She has hazle eyes. Hazle is blue and brown mixed. Mine are just blue. But I like that just fine. One time my friend went out into an orchard. She has really bad hayfever. Well anyway after she came out of the weeds her pupils were covered by the white stuff in your eyes. She looked like an alien.

September 24, 1995
Once upon a time there was a nice little girl who was nice to everybody and she always got straight A's, but one day she was doing her book report. She asked, "Dear Mrs. Sibley, I will not be here so may I turn it in late?" but all Mrs. Sibley said was, "No! I hate you! You are the worst studen I ever had! You only get half-credit! Then you will have an F-!" Now, this little girl got so upset, she burned down the school! It wasn't so bad except that her friend was going on the same trip and she could turn it in late. This is what Mrs. Sibley said to her friend, "You are so wonderful! Praise to you!" That was what made this nice little girl crack! She got very very mean! She killed Mrs. Sibley! So teachers, be fair. Or else.
The End

And lastly, I'd like to share exerpts from a letter my best friend, Haylee, wrote to our 3rd grade teacher. It just makes me laugh.

Dear Mrs. Sorenson,
I think you're a good teacher, but I hate this seating arrangement. You should let us choose where we get to sit, or at least give us a chance.
Anyway about me. I'm the only girl of three boys....

It sort of sounds like what Nacho Libre says to Lady Encarnacion. The really funny thing about the entire journal though, is that nearly every page makes complaints about the seating arrangement. I can't imagine where we were all sitting, but apparently it was unsuitable.