I Really Really Love My In-Laws

They're all much better-looking nowadays.

. . . . well, Gary looks pretty much exactly the same. But he was good-looking to begin with.

Does It Ever Strike You?

When you're exhausted/stressed/overwhelmed/tired/lackluster/etc . . . that life is freaking good?

Sometimes when I think about all the wonderful people in my life--mother, father, brother, brother, sister, brother, brother, amazing friends, kind-of-friends, used-to-be-friends, co-workers, bosses, cousins, grandparents, aunts, uncles, in-laws, teachers, husband, dog--my heart just swells with gratitude. I know things will be okay because they are okay and they've always been okay. Know why? 

Because God lives. I'm His daughter. There's a plan for me and I'm going to conquer my dreams and raise bomb kids and grow old with Brock. I don't know how I know all this but I just do.

So here I am. Sitting at my kitchen table at 1AM and some synapse goes off in my brain and I'm like "Oh, that's right! Things are good! Things are freaking good!"

Suddenly, it doesn't matter that I couldn't remember certain Arabic verbs on my midterm today. And that I have no freaking idea how to case weak diptotes or triptotes for my midterm tomorrow. And that I can't for the life of me remember the irregular nisba adjectives that we learned in lesson five.

Or was it six?

ALL THAT MATTERS in this life are the people in it.

And by that measure, I've got it made.

The Alaskan Inn

Brock and I just went on the funnest getaway. A few months ago, I saw a Groupon deal for a cute bed and breakfast in Ogden. The place is called the Alaskan Inn, and it's located fifteen minutes up beautiful Ogden Canyon. All the rooms have different Alaskan-inspired themes--we stayed in a room called Northern Lights.

This was our first time at a B&B and we couldn't have chosen a better place!

We dropped Mojo off at my grandparents' place in American Fork. He was not happy being left behind--which he made very manifest by tearing up the alpaca sleeping mat we bought for him in Ecuador. Grrr....

It was such a gorgeous drive up the canyon with fresh snow and mist rising off the granite peaks--I don't know HOW I'm going to survive May-December of this year living in places without mountains.

For dinner we went to Maddox Ranch House in Brigham City--a Utah staple about half hour away from Ogden. Gooooood home cookin' and the most tender steak you'll ever eat. And ain't my hubby handsome? :)

I saved up my calories ALL DAY to eat here. And rightfully so. Homemade cream soda, homemade root beer, warm rolls with raspberry butter, cornbread, salad with homemade ranch dressing, mashed potatoes, filet mignon--"stuffed" is an understatement.

Fiber-optic stars and the Aurora Borealis ala blacklight? COOL!

My husband watches romcoms with me. AND HE LIKES THEM.

The view out our window in the morning.

Few things are more quieting and more peaceful than fresh snow on pines.

I Really Suck At Baths

No, really. I do.

They make me feel guilty. I can't help it. How else am I supposed to feel sitting there in the tub, waiting for copious hot, clean water to fill the basin, knowing that some kid in rural Mozambique would kill for clean water that came that easy? Sitting there relaxing, when families in Bahrain are mourning the loss of loved ones who were mercilessly shot down by police forces today during peaceful protests?

Baths probably are not the best time for thinking like this. But I need to keep my mind occupied somehow. Otherwise, I just hone in on everything that makes a bath awkward.

1. Laying on your back and staring down at your folded up, naked body. WELL HI THERE, SELF.
2. Having nobody else to blame those fart bubbles on.
3. Realizing that your average bathtub was not designed for people over 4'10''.
4. Realizing that you look utterly unsexy contorting your body to fit in said bathtub.
5. Realizing that there is no way to get comfortable on fiberglass.
6. Feeling stupid for even trying.
7. And that you just wasted all this water.
8. And are still dirty.
9. And now you have to waste more water to shower.

SEE?!?! Baths suck.

I've tried everything. Once I tried filling up the bathtub just partway, thinking that I could still get the "bath effect" without feeling guilty for wasting so much water. PROBLEM: The part of my body submerged in water was warm, but the rest was freezing. I tried solving this by laying on my right side for a few minutes, and then switching to my left. If I did it often enough, no side of my body ever got too cold.

Brock came into the bathroom and looked down at me, perplexed. I explained the situation to him.

"You look so . . . so . . . I dunno . . "

"What?" I prodded. Relaxed? Sexy? Desirable?

"Just . . . pathetic. Sitting there in your two inches of water, rolling over from side to side to keep warm."

"I'm trying not to waste a precious resource, okay?!"

"What, by acting like a rotisserie chicken?"

***

I gave the tub another go tonight. And I filled that sucker up with water until I just couldn't take it anymore.

Enter Brock.

"Aren't your boobs cold?"

"Shut up."

"But hey! There's definitely more water than last time! Progress!"

I sighed. "I just can't do it. Look at me. One of the world's privileged white people, sitting here waiting for all this water to fill the tub . . . a biography of Kissinger within arm's reach waiting for me to lazily flip through its pages as I sit here . . . soaking . . . "

Brock looked down and reassessed the situation.

"Honey, you're folded up like a freaking pretzel down there. You didn't put in any bubbles. All the lights are on, no candles. No music. And that book within arm's reach? Yeah, it's resting on top of the bathroom trash can. All things considered, I wouldn't be feeling too guilty."

He left the room, laughing. I sat alone in that wretched tub. Feeling guilty and stupid.

And my boobs were cold.

Marital Issues

People, Brock and I have issues.

Yes, issues. That uncomfortable word which, when used in reference to married couples, conjures up images of lawyers, a stint on "Maury", and a one-year trip across Italy, India, and Indonesia for a jaded girl to--well, I digress. Brock and I don't have those issues. No, no, no. Ours are much more superficial and far less exciting.

One of them is the fact that my brain has been short-circuiting recently. Ever heard of Halfheimers? Yeah, I totally have that. Aside from losing my camera a month ago, I lost my beloved Nalgene bottle on campus last week. Weird--because I'm normally not a person who loses track of things. Anyway, today I went to the Marriott Center box office to buy tickets to a basketball game, only to discover that my wallet was gone. I figured I'd just left it on the counter at home, so I rushed home to get it before my next class.

It wasn't there.

On the way back to the school, I mentally retraced my steps from yesterday and decided I probably left it in the SWKT. By the time I got back to campus it was about 9:45 and there was no parking anywhere. I parked at the Provo Library and started hauling to the JKB (where my class was). I hauled so fast that I even had time to stop by the SWKT and check the lost and found there--no bones.

Now I was really stressed out. My wallet wasn't anywhere that I thought it would be. I decided to check the BYU Lost and Found, even though I was sure it wouldn't be there (it usually takes at least a few days for items to be turned in). Lucky for me, THEY HAD IT! AND MY NALGENE!! I was ecstatic and probably scared the poor employee working there with my fist-pumping and cheering.

But then I realized all my cash was missing.

Not to worry! She told me that BYU Lost and Found turns any large sums of cash in to another office, which was a few floors up. So I ran up there, got my $50, and was so happy to have this entire ordeal over with that I went and got myself a donut at Sugar and Spice.

After that I headed back up to the Marriott Center box office to buy those tickets. As I left, I noticed that my hands were feeling strangely empty.

My laptop was gone.

I couldn't believe it. I returned to the box office--nothing. Had I set it down at Sugar and Spice? I ran alllll the way back down to the Wilk--nothing. My blood pressure started rising. How does a person lose a camera, a wallet, and a laptop all in the same month??? The three most monetarily valuable items I freaking own!!

I sat down on a small hill, exasperated. On a whim, I called the BYU Lost and Found to see if my laptop had been turned in during the past twenty minutes.

It had.

While I was overjoyed to hear this, it was also beyond embarrassing to have to show my face at the Lost and Found for the second time that hour to pick up a laptop, after I'd just picked up my wallet. "Oh hey . . . weren't you just in here to pick up your wallet and Nalgene? . . . and now you need your? . . ."

Yes, Miss Lost and Found Lady. I AM THAT DUMB.

***

My horrible memory is just one of the issues that has been plaguing our marriage lately.

Brock has his own problems.

(Just so you all know, I've gotten permission from Brock to share this story because it is so freaking funny and neither of us can stop laughing about it.)

Today, Brock woke up at around 6:00am thinking "Man, I really have to pee." But he didn't want to get up and walk four feet to the bathroom, so he stayed in bed.

After putting on my makeup this morning, I walked into our room to get dressed. The sheets were off the bed. Weird, I thought. We just barely washed them on Saturday.

Brock approached me sheepishly. "Wanna know something funny?"

"What?"

"I wet the bed last night."

I stared at him, confused.

"I WET THE BED LAST NIGHT."

After denying himself a potty break at 6:00am, Brock--who turns 26 next month, mind you--had a dream about going to the bathroom. And then he woke up . . . going to the bathroom . . . in bed . . .

***

Some married couples have fidelity issues. Money issues. Bedroom issues. Irreconcilable differences. Us? I have the memory of a 90-year old woman, and my husband has the bladder of a 90-year old man.

***

All things considered, I think we're doing okay.

Idea FAIL

To motivate myself to do homework, I'm always like "I know! I'll start with the funnest homework first, and then I'll just get on a roll and won't be able to stop!!!"

YEAH, RIGGGHTTTT.

Lines

He was browning meat for taco salads. I could tell he was thinking as he stood there, poking at the pinkish beef. "Y'know?" he said thoughtfully, "Valentine's Day is just like a Mother's Day for girls who aren't moms yet."

This morning, in the car, I got on his case because he hadn't brushed (or washed) his hair this morning. It was a little greasy and a lot of messy. (But maybe he would've had time to shower if he hadn't woken up early to make me pancakes.) We were driving to an art store to get a poster framed--Kandinsky's "Several Circles," which was his Valentine's Day gift to me. I saw his eyes bulge as he watched the woman helping us tally the prices of the frame, glass, and matte board. Despite his bulging eyes, he let me get the special type of glass with UV protection (so the colors of the poster won't fade over time). As we walked out of Provo Art and Frame he said, "Dang! I thought an art poster would be a budget-friendly gift but man! Framing! What a racket! See if I ever get one of those again!" 

Later, he apologized for not buying me a flower. "I would've," he said. "But I didn't have the car today. I'll get you one tomorrow." How sweet, I thought to myself. "Yes, only one," he continued. "Not a dozen. Those are like fifty bucks on Valentine's Day."

As we were driving home to make dinner, he could hardly contain his excitement as he told me "Hey! Guess what. I got hit on today. Some girl in my class was throwing candy hearts at me, and said she wanted to be my valentine. But I held up my left hand and told her I already had one. So you should be feeling pretty good about yourself, having such a wanted man and all."

***

The lines Brock delivered today weren't exactly worthy of a Cary Grant movie. Yet as much as I roll my eyes at his impishness, I couldn't love him more for it. I think it would be terribly boring to have a husband who does and says all the right things, all the time. Life isn't meant to be scripted out--it's the take-twos (and threes, and fours...) that make it worth living.

So even though it wasn't the most romantic Valentine's Day on record, and even though Brock's lines were a little more Larry the Cable Guy than Cary Grant, somehow; I sit here writing this while loving him more than ever.

Allahu Akbar

الله أكبر

God is great.

I have thought so much about freedom during the past 18 days, and watching what has been happening in Egypt--I can't even describe how it's changed me. It makes me very emotional. I feel grateful, I feel empowered, and I feel hope.

Because God is great.

Weekend Update (Sans Seth Meyers)

Last night, Brock and I went to the BYU volleyball game against UCLA. It was so fun--partly because it was a great match-up, partly because we were standing with the rowdiest fans ever.

Highlights:

• The awesome signs the people we were cheering with had made--my favorite was one the kept updating throughout the game, a sign that said "MISSED SERVES" with a running tally.
• When one of the UCLA players with the last name of Page kept messing up, they made an impromptu sign that read "PAGE M.V.P."
• The heckling! Oh, the heckling! People, it was art. When their Argentinian player would go to serve the ball, we'd chant "USA! USA!" Or we called him Frodo. (Because he looked like him.) Or unibrow. (Because he had one.) Another one of UCLA's players was seven feet tall. He came to be known as Gumby. But my personal favorite was a lanky UCLA guy with long, shaggy brown hair. We affectionately called him "GEI.CO.CAVE.MAN."
• BYU won in four games, and near the end of the fourth game, a player on our team (Souza, I believe) totally stuffed UCLA twice in a row. The place erupted!

Both Brock and his brother Ryan (who plays on the BYU volleyball team, for those of you who don't know) grew up playing volleyball, and are patiently teaching Tara and I the ins and outs of the game. The more I learn, the more I realize how big of a factor heckling actually is. Getting in the opponents' heads gives you a huge home-court advantage. And when BYU's team travels elsewhere, they get heckled sooooo bad--and it's not "nice" stuff like Geico Caveman. Ryan even called us after the game and thanked us. (Apparently the UCLA players were shooting their mouths off at our team during warm-ups. WARM-UPS.)

Anyway, it was a great game and everything was in good fun. The Geico Caveman was laughing along with us the whole game. Whenever a UCLA player missed a serve, he'd look our way and motion for us to add a tally mark to our poster.

After the game, Brock and I grabbed a jumbleberry pie shake and some fries at the Malt Shoppe  and headed home to watch a Netflix movie (Captain Abu Raed--definitely put it in your queue).

In other news . . .

(The twelvthfhf--HOW DO YOU SPELL THAT???--person was my little sister, Kiana, who had a mail-in ballot. For some reason she couldn't comment on the post, so she emailed me.)

And the ninth commenter?

I am happy about this because I haven't seen Sierra in forever, and in order to give her my term paper, I will have to meet up with her. Perhaps over lunch??? :)

*~*~* OMG GIVEAWAY!!! *~*~*

You know how a lot of blogs out there have giveaways? With wannabe-Anthro shiz from obscure Etsy stores? (If you have no idea what that last sentence meant: Congratulations. You don't live in Utah.)

I have the sudden urge to do one, just so I can say I'm a legit blogger. The only problem is, I have no skills. You know, like nunchuck skills, bow hunting skills, computer hacking skills . . .

SO. Here are your options.

1. An Al Jazeera news link posted on your Facebook wall. Hand-selected and personalized just for you!

2. Your name written in Arabic script on a piece of recycled notebook paper. Eco-friendly and culture-conscious!

3. A first-edition, autographed copy of a term paper I wrote last semester about the International Criminal Court.

To enter, just leave a comment and let me know which goody you'd like to winzo! I'll use a random number generator to select the winner on Saturday!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I KNOW THE ANTICIPATION IS KILLING YOU.