New Friend

Okay so about 8 months ago Remy got a kitten named Malcolm. He is super cute, but dang that cat is CRAZY! Seriously crazy. In fact he even got nicknamed, and pardon my French, but his loving nickname Remy gave him is the shitty kitty -because he is one. We're pretty sure he hallucenates because he'll sit at the base of all wall, look straight up, start making these weird noises and then jump like he's trying to get something. Yeah, there's nothing there. His newest trick is to jump, spread eagle on your back if you bend over at all. I keep reminding Remy that he picked Malcolm because he was so cute ASLEEP, not because of his personality while he was awake! True story.

So Remy had been debating ever since he brought Malcolm home whether or not he should get a second cat as a playmate for Malcolm. I think he was so paranoid about even having one that he decided not to get the second. Well over time we figured out that Malcolm tends to behave a little better when people are around more. And with Remy always at work and then doing other stuff after work, there wasn't anyone around to keep the kitty company. Then when Remy was working 70 hour weeks for a while there, things just got out of hand and Malcolm was getting psychotic. So it was decided he needed a friend.

Remy went to the pet store a few weeks ago to pick some stuff up and the Humane Society was there and he fell in love with an older (older as in 5 months old and not a brand new kitten) gray kitten. He went home and got Malcolm so they could meet and make sure they didn't hate each other. I wasn't there, but apparently Malcolm was afraid of this cute little girl. But they didn't seem to hate each other so he brought her home. He named her Little Grey...I say it's after Merideth's sister in Grey's Anatomy he says it's partially that and partially something else...whatever.

For a while Malcolm just followed Little Grey everywhere she went and wouldn't leave her alone. Then he started pouncing on her and pinning her down until she growled and hissed (which is so cute by the way because she such a little thing and doesn't make a peep otherwise). She had just been spayed so she wasn't really in the mood to fight back much. But she has changed her tune now! He's teaching her some bad habits.

The point of all of this is the picture at the top (I really hate how pictures are not easily moved on this site and my new version of explorer won't let me copy and paste my text within this post and I forgot to add the pic first!). This is poor, sick Little Grey. She had a fever and a soar throat and a stuffy nose. It was the saddest thing ever. We took her to the vet and they did some tests and gave her some meds, but she was sick for quite a while and it was the saddest thing ever. She would just lay in her bed just like the picture, poor little thing. You can just see on her face how miserable she is. She was so cuddly though...and P.S. she loves me! Which means I can't help but love her back! Whenever I go over there she comes and sits on my lap (I think Remy is a little jealous).

Anyhow she's pretty much back to herself now and still loves me. ;)

Halloween

So Remy and I got invited to the first Halloween party I can remember...ever. It was good time, thanks to Joey and Brie for hosting. The trick, like always, is to figure out what the heck you're going to BE for Halloween. I have never gotten that into it, I really just don't care much for dressing up I guess. We had come up with a few ideas, but nothing really solid. Remy went shopping one day on his own and got the idea of a greek god and goddess. Then that morphed into him wanting to be Cupid. -No, not the diaper version! I had a couple people bring that up when I told them the idea. It actually turned out really cute. White tunic with red cape, gold leaf head thing, bow and arrow with hearts on the end of the arrows. And let's not forget the feather angel wings and red heart tatoo on the arm! You want a picture you say? Well, so sorry pictures can only be taken by people with cameras. And since I lost my camera I am not one of those people. Maybe if we dress up on Halloween day I'll use my crappy phone one or something.

Now there was this guy there at the party who had dressed up like Michael Jackson. I kid you not if I didn't know the dude was dead, I would have been pretty confused! This guy was amazing! He had the look, hair, lips, outfit, voice, moves...the whole package. It was trippy. His wife said he even lost 40 pounds just for that! Uh, dedication to the extreme.

If You'd Like to Make a Call...Please Hang Up and Dial Again

If you want me to call you back, you need to leave me your phone number. Even -strike that - ESPECIALLY if your message is urgent or time sensitive. I don't know what else to tell you besides the fact that I can't read minds and I don't have the ability to track your call as though you are a criminal I need to find because you have hostages bound and gagged in a basement somewhere.

That was going to be all I had to say, but I just experienced something else that inspired the title I'll mention:

First of all, I am not the University Operator. I don't even know how you got my number in the first place. You cannot call me and the only thing you speak is someone else's name. I don't know what that means. Perhaps use the name in a sentence that describes the purpose of your phone call. For example: "Hello, do you know the phone number or can you transfer me to ....?" See how easy that was? --However, let's not forget, I'm not the University Operator -so you shouldn't be calling me for phone numbers anyway!

The funny thing, when I did transfer this terrible communicator, either I dialed the wrong number or the number is disconnected! HA! After I felt bad for like one second, I felt as though it was sweet justice. Then the terrible communicator called me right back (which I was expecting) and then hung up when I answered the phone. So that was either to get me back or the terrible communicator decided I'd probably just give him the same number again. -Which isn't true, but I never got the chance to show him.

Peach Days Miracle/State Fair Fun

Okay so about a hundred years ago it was Peach Days up in Brigham City...so maybe not 100 years, more like a few weeks ago--September 12th to be exact...

So I wanted to go to Peach Days real, real bad and Remy being the kind hear that his said he'd take me. So we start driving and we're coming up on the Brigham City exits and it dawns on me that I have no idea where in Brigham City this thing actually is. I know, I know you're thinking, "what's the big deal, Brigham City is like the smallest place EVER!" Well guess what, even if that's true, when you have no idea where you're going any size place can feel huge.

This is where the miracle comes in. We decide to get off on the second exit. I'm searching the GPS on my phone hoping to find the location of the city park or something cuz chances are it's nearby. Lo and behold we got off the freeway and practically ran into Peach Days!

It was way fun! I have some pics, but they're on my other computer so I'll have to post them later. They had a car show and holy cow I couldn't believe how many cars they had. Two huge fields just full of them. We could have spent all day looking at them.

We had some delicious food which included Dutch Oven peach cobbler....MMMMMMmmmm! After Peach Days we headed straight over to Remy's parents' house to meet his family to go to the State Fair. It was quite the day!

At the fair we saw a sign advertising the smallest woman in the world. Remy's sister in laws and I were totally curious about it and wondered if it was real or how they did it, or what. So we gathered our dollar bills and took a peek. Wow, there was really a woman sitting there, in a chair, and we just paid a dollar to stare at her. I felt terrible! It was just a weird feeling, I felt bad for her. She's from Haiti and I think the guy taking the money was from there as well. So I'm sure they were making decent money, and it's not like she's being held captive or something. I just can't imagine knowing that people are spending a dollar to come stare at you is that great. I don't know. We all walked away feeling bad. The funny thing is that my mom was at the fair a few days later and someone was talking to her about this and they said they felt bad about it too.

Let's see, what else? We got some funnel cake--delish! It had bavarian cream and chocolate sauce. I'm ususally a fan of fruit toppings, but that was way good. Remy got a slushy that had a leak in the bottom of the cup so it leaked red juice all over him. We checked out al the animals (thrilling) and that was just about it.

Appreciate Your Own Shoes

Life is hard. I don't care what people say, it's the truth. Yeah, yeah sometimes it seems like it's going smoothly, but just wait, hard times probably aren't far off. -Not trying to be a downer, but that's just how it goes.

Sometimes though, I need to realize that life could be hardER. I look around at other people and think, "Man, sure glad I'm not in their shoes." Because even after I say that I look down and think, "My shoes suck! Can't I have someone else's?" Right this second I can think of about 50 pairs of shoes I'd much rather have than my own. Why? Why can't I appreciate the ones I have? Really, someone else's shoes may look pretty, but once you step in...you just never know.

Maybe my shoes are still being broken in. You know how sometimes you get a pair and they are comfy at first, then they hurt like hell, then...they're the best, most comfortable shoes you've ever had? Perhaps mine just take a little longer to break in than I want them to. Or really, there are a number of other things that could be the reason behind my distaste for my shoes. Perhaps they are the wrong size, wrong style for the season...maybe that's it. Maybe there's just a pebble inside and I haven't figured out how to shake it out yet. Who knows? Not me, that's for dang sure. If I did I wouldn't be wishing I had someone else's.

But like I said before, life can be harder. My shoes could be so, SO much worse. That can be hard to remember at times. I guess I just need to learn to appreciate my own shoes.

Pete and Repeat

Sometimes talking to people feels like a joke, a bad one. One that goes something like this: Pete and Repeat were sitting in a boat, Pete falls out and who's left? Repeat. Pete and Repeat were sitting in a boat, Pete falls out and who's left? Repeat. Pete and Repeat were sitting in a boat, Pete falls out and who's left? Repeat. Pete and Repeat were sitting in a boat, Pete falls out and who's left? Repeat. Pete and Repeat were sitting in a boat, Pete falls out and who's left? Repeat. Pete and Repeat were sitting in a boat, Pete falls out and who's left? Repeat. Pete and Repeat were sitting in a boat, Pete falls out and who's left? Repeat.

Get the picture?

Really? You're asking me that AGAIN? And I'm telling you the same answer AGAIN? Did I mention you've been here longer than me, yet I feel like this is your first day and somehow it became my responsibility to train you? Did you forget what it was like to think a problem through on your own rather than relying solely on someone else to think it out for you? Did you not remember the 50 other times I held your hand and walked you through each step so you would be able to do it on your own? But here we are again, holding hands. Is logic not something you are familiar with? Is there a reason you are making this as complicated as possible? I'm sorry, did your elementary school teachers not to teach you how to follow intructions? I've literally spelled this out for you in person, in writing, over the phone... the only other thing left is for me to do it for you, but I can't. Would you please not answer your own question on my voicemail? -Just shut your door and talk it over with yourself for a minute, I'm sure you'll come up with the right answer. Why do you ask me if I'm tired of hearing from you? -What do you want me to say to that? Did the word patience get deleted from your dictionary? If you don't leave me a message how do I know you are trying to get a hold of me? Why do you refuse to go with the flow? Why do you not listen to my question and then try to answer me with something that is off topic? Why do you even think that makes sense? Do you still believe in the tooth fairy? Cuz you've got me wondering. You do realize that I know you're full of it when you claim to be in the right place and tell me it's not working, but then you actually GO to where I'm telling you and you act like it suddenly began working? Why do you understand something one day and then the next you act like this is a brand new concept? Um, did you not ever learn how to read? No, YOU are the one who called this meeting...why would we have anything we would like to say? Isn't that your job? You do realize that I'm going to hear this again when you call me, so a 10 minute voicemail is not necessary? Why are there 5 different people calling me regarding the same situation? Do you people not talk to each other? Why, after I told you I don't know the answer do you insist on asking me anyway? Is there a reason your check is twice as much as mine? Remember the hand holding? -Yeah. Why? WHY? WHY?

Phew! Glad to get that off my chest. ;)

Scared of a Ghost

So this is another story about my Sunbeams. It's pretty short and sweet and writing it probably won't do it justice because you have to hear their little voices to appreciate just how cute this was. But I'll do my best.

I sadly do not remember many of the details surrounding this story. I want to say this happened on the day of our Easter lesson, but at the same time it doesn't seem to necessarily fit there. I would like to throw in a blurb about the Easter lesson so I never forget....as I talked about Jesus' death and how he was resurrected, those kids sat so quietly and intently and they had these wide eyes and they took in every word I said. I have never, ever seen them listen like they did that day. I can still picture their little faces and they asked so many questions...I don't want to forget that day.

So back to the Ghost story. It was a dark and stormy night. The wind was howling through the trees and thunder rumbled in the distance...okay not really. It was probably before noon on a cheeful spring day at church which doesn't seem like the proper set up for a ghost story, but that's all I got. For one reason or another we were talking about the Holy Ghost; who he is and what he does for us. We use the term "Holy Ghost" all the time in church, but as with lots of other terms in life we don't always think about the literal meaning of what we're saying and how people who are not familiar with the word may misinterpret it.

We were going through the lesson and little Evan looks at me and says, in a spooky voice (PLEASE try to imagine a little 3 year old say this in a little shaky, scary voice) "The Holy Ghost is scaryyyy!"

It was so cute I about lost it! Then try to tell a 3 year old a ghost isn't scary...told you it was short, but it always makes me smile when I think about it. In fact I even quote him all the time! :)