It's Against My Religion

I've been reminiscing about high school a lot recently and remembered a funny story involving this girl. We went to a teppanyaki restaurant with my friend Nicole and my family. When the server brought out the shrimp appetizer Nicole politely declined, as did I. My dad (the always adventuresome eater) started to give us a hard time about not eating seafood. Without batting an eye she said, "Oh, well, eating fish is against my religion." "I thought you were Mormon," he said (by the way, he wasn't). "I am," she shrugged. He was genuinely confused for a few minutes before he realized she was teasing him. I have to say, that's a talent I wish I had. I really admire people who can deliver a good joke with a straight face. I'm pretty sure Nicole might've kept him going longer if I hadn't started giggling.

The Evils of CNN

I thought of Holly's experience yesterday when a lady at work came back from lunch very upset. "Why do people have to watch that CNN in the lunchroom? I just don't understand it," she complained to the lady in the cubicle next to mine. I thought to myself that I couldn't blame her. I don't really enjoy eating to the tune of the news either. Especially the same depressing/angering/irritating story over and over again. Apparently that wasn't her complaint though. "How can they watch that stuff? Words going across the bottom, things popping up on the sides, all while somebody's talking! How can anyone figure out what's going on with all that happening at once?"

If CNN is a mystery, I don't think my sweet coworker will be picking up a Kindle or registering for facebook anytime soon. It does somewhat explain why I think she prints and saves her emails though . . .

Not Proposition 8

As I mentioned before, I had to convince Ryan to date me. He tells people sometimes that I tricked him into dating him, but then he tricked me into marrying him

Remember how I had doubts about marrying Ryan? We had been dating about five months when I realized we were pretty serious. Marriage became a part of our conversations, but I just wasn't SURE. I guess I expected a big sign from the Heavens, but Ryan was content with a general feeling of rightness. He told me he would wait until I was ready but not to expect any proposal until then. He wasn't about to propose to someone who might say no.

After meeting Ryan's parents I flew home to see my family for a couple of days. They teased me about getting married but I assured them that was nowhere in sight. Little did I know that Ryan's family was convincing him a few states away that he should just man up and propose already.

Keep in mind, that you know how this story ends. I didn't. Not even a little. This may have been the densest day of my life. So when Ryan picked me up at the airport and said we should go to Sundance, I just thought he was being sporadic. We had our first kiss there and had been back a couple of times just to soak up the romantic, mountainous atmosphere. Now, what really should've tipped me off was the fact that he was wearing his special black shirt. Or the vase with flowers on a little stool with a lit candle sitting to the side of the walkway.

Neither did. In fact I was very close to saying, "Hey look! I'll bet someone's going to propose!" when Ryan stopped walking right in front of the flowers. I almost told him that we better not stop in someone else's proposal spot. So did I realize he was proposing then?

No. He started saying the mushy kind of stuff I prefer not to blog about and my honest-to-goodness thought was, "Wow! He really missed me while I was gone! What a nice welcome back!" When he went down on one knee and pulled out a ring I peered in expecting to find a ring pop or something. There was just NO WAY he could possibly be proposing! He promised, right? I knew I hadn't told him I was ready, so what the heck was he thinking??

After a little period of silence I realized he had just proposed and was waiting for an answer. I had better think of something awfully quick. Brilliantly (not) I tried to stall. I told him I loved him too and even tried to distract him by kissing him. Alas, he noticed my avoidance and again asked for an answer.

I really did know that I loved him, and I didn't want to lose him. I knew that if I said no I probably couldn't change my mind. But if I said yes, I could just back out later. So I muffled something that sounded like, "Errmm.....yeah?" and he accepted it. He got the yes part and completely ignored the hesitation.

Later in the car I told him that I still had some praying and soul searching to do, but he was totally confident at that point. It didn't ever occur to him that I'd back out. And I'm glad for that. Because I didn't change my mind after all. The truth is, I may have never been "ready" enough and probably needed to be forced into decision. Did you know that 96.6% of the time I can't make up my mind at a restaurant until the waitress is staring me down after everyone else has ordered? That's what Ryan must've known I needed--somebody to force me into a decision.

Engagement Disclaimer

My friend Kate requested I share my engagement story. If I'm going to tell the story accurately from my point of view, I may have to admit to some of my . . . er . . . hesitations about marrying Ryan. So before I do that (which I plan to do in the next week), I think I should make a disclaimer.

Regardless of any doubts I had before getting married, I am very happy with the decision we made. Ryan and I are pretty different, but that helps to keep us more balanced. Even though our differences drive each other crazy, they are also our greatest strengths in our marriage.

Can you imagine if I married someone like me?? It would be constant emotions and talking and anger and stress and more talking and a lot of ranting and way too much analyzing and then random bursts of happy. We would both explode. Of course I see that in retrospect. I just didn't see it as clearly at the time. But the point of this growing post is that I DO see it now. I definitely plan on keeping him around and think he feels the same way about me. Uptightness and all. Just keep that in mind.

Our Favorite Creations from Mom

We asked the children at church, "What is your favorite thing your mom makes for you? And how does she make it?" Then our pres. typed them up in a newsletter to give to the moms of our ward. I will just share a few that made me giggle:

"Cookies! She mixes them and puts 'em in the oven. Now she has to stir it. Then she eats it all gone without her husband."

"Rice. She puts sugar on it. And she makes it with eggs and puts flour in it. And she puts cotton candy in there. And last pizza in the rice. It's yummy! Oh, and she puts it in the oven." Note: the mother denies this is a true recipe.

"My favorite thing mommy makes is me feel better when I'm sad. When I have a boo-boo or get my feelings hurt, I find Mommy. She hugs me an sings to me. I feel all better."

"Fire. She gets the sticks, then some paper and then burns it with a lighter."

"Cinnamon toast. I make it with my mommy and then put sugar on it! Do you want to come over and make it with me?"

"Taco Bell. Drive there!"

"Happiness! :) 4 cups of sugar and 2 cups of kids!"

"Pancakes. I love my mom's pancakes. She mixes it. She cooks it. Then I brush my teeth so I don't get a hole in my tooth." Her dad's a dentist.

"Cookies: Chocolate chips, cinnamon, wheat, another kind of wheat, a sugar wheat, a healthy wheat. Then she puts them in the oven and then she sets it for something and when it beeps two times it's done."

"Pumpkin seeds. She doesn't make a lot, but sometimes she makes stuff that I don't like."

Cry Baby

Yes, I am a cry baby. All kinds of things set me off. Happy things, sad things, frustrating things, touching things. I do have a fairly good mastery of my emotions, in the sense that I can hold it in until an appropriate moment. Usually that entails me excusing myself to use the restroom where I can quietly cry on the throne. Twice, however, in the last couple of weeks I've failed to maintain my composure. Once in front of my boss's boss and once in front of a coworker. It's really pretty humiliating and awkward. But not as awkward as poor Glen; at least my tears aren't on video:

Shout Out

I always blame my lack of creativity on being an accountant. We're really discouraged from "creative accounting." That leads to Enron-like situations, you know. But apparently that's a lame excuse. Check out these finalists on Pioneer Woman's photography site. See the one from Ivan Makarov? This one here. He was in my accounting program. I was stunned to see his name beneath such an incredible picture. I mean, he's an accountant too! Obviously I've been upstaged, but really I'm proud that an accountant is good at more than just numbers. Ivan, you've definitely raised the bar for us. Awesome shot.

Best Buddies

My brother was in town this weekend. We did a whole lot of nothing very exciting, but isn't that the best thing you can do with your little brother? I was going to write some of the funny things we talked about . . . but I'm having trouble thinking of anything that wouldn't offend someone or would even be funny to anyone outside the family. We did laugh pretty hard when the older lady checking receipts at Costco told us she had a brain fart. Especially because Mom says she hates that word and we're not allowed to use it.

Anyway, we are pretty weird siblings. I mean, we're weird in a lot of ways but what makes us the most different is that we hardly ever fought. We've always been buddies and have taken good care of each other. For example, I almost punched a kid that pushed him at school in 5th grade (the weaselly kid ran off before I could hit him though). My junior year he gently told me the truth about my poor hairstyle choice before going to a concert and embarrassing myself. I helped him dress like a thug for Halloween in middle school. He hung out with me when I didn't go to my senior prom and made me laugh so much I didn't even regret not going. Well, regret very much.

I could go on forever. The point is that we still look out for each other. I took him to find a storage unit, and he ran errands with me. I kept him well fed all weekend, and he got the toilet paper roll that's been in the tree for two years because Ryan and I weren't crazy enough to try to climb such a flimsy tree to get it. I gave him bug spray to douse his storage unit and he stole cookies to take back with him. The sweetest thing he did was to install our new smoke detector. When it didn't work, he went and bought another one and installed it too. I should've known he would be into fire safety.

It was a great weekend.

Book Club

My friend started a book club and I couldn't be more excited about it. We have a list of classics so we'll be picking challenging but wholesome books. Some months one book will be all I can finish, but other months not so much. Like last month. Meaning, I need more book recommendations. I got some great suggestions the last time I asked, so I decided to incorporate books into this blog regularly. I added the Goodreads widget to show what I'm currently reading. If you're reading something you love, please share!