One way I show my uptightness is my weekly menu planning. One of my New Year's resolutions for '08 was to make more meals at home, and I figured I'd need to get organized to do it. So I started an Excel workbook (yeah, I'm in accounting). See?
It's sick, really. I plan for each day across the top and then list the ingredients along the left. The sickest part is that I order the ingredients. Yes, they are in the same order as the grocery store aisles. Who does that? For the record, I don't always do so well as the week above. Lately we've had a lot of Hamburger Helper and frozen pizza nights but you get the idea.
I was baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (the Mormons) when I was 13. As I learned more about my new found religion, I was anxious in sharing it with everyone (I do mean everyone) around me. Even though I feel like I did so with good intention, I realize now that I offended some people, even close friends and family. It is one of my biggest regrets. So I share this hesitatingly, not wishing to offend but to share a very important part of who I am. Please consider this my disclaimer for anyone wanting to close the browser window without reading the rest. This is your last chance.
When we first started meeting with the missionaries, we'd been going to church for over a year and a half. They asked us to read the Book of Mormon and then to ask the Lord if it was true. Heavenly Father, they said, would answer me. I had complete faith that He would answer me. Honestly, I didn't know what His answer would be. I had learned so many good things from church, but I just wasn't so sure about the Mormons. I mean, they seemed okay, but I wasn't convinced.
Yet, if there is a God, which I did believe there is, I knew that He wouldn't want me reading a book that preached falsehood or any other blasphemy. On the other hand, He would certainly want to encourage me to read a book filled with truth. So I read. And then I prayed. And He did answer me. A warmth filled my heart and I knew the words which I read were good and true.
My faith in other areas of life hasn't come nearly so easily as that. In fact, when I told the missionaries about my answer they were thrilled and asked about my baptism date. My 13-year-old self blurted out, "You asked me to pray about the Book of Mormon, not whether I should get baptized. Look, you're just going to have to wait until I pray about that too."
I'd say the Book of Mormon changed my life, but it literally is life and our purpose here on earth. My words aren't very eloquent, but Elder Holland shares his solid testimony of his faith in the Book of Mormon below. And thank you for indulging me a churchy moment. I'll try to keep them to a minimum. :)
I'm too uptight. Did you know that? Well, I tricked Ryan into thinking I wasn't. Because I was also friends with his friends, I knew he didn't like me. They told me he thought I wasn't very sporadic. Even though I knew I was anything but sporadic, I also felt very strongly that it was important that he give me a chance. Where I'd have given up on other guys, I sensed that I shouldn't give up him yet. So Ryan's friends continued to talk me up (or so they tell me).
Ryan decided to devise a test. It was early into the semester but I was already feeling overwhelmed with schoolwork. After a ward activity I was anxious to get back to studying, but I had been warned by his friends that some kind of test was coming. He approached me and asked if I wanted to hang out.
My mind screamed, "NOOOO! You have studying!!! What is he thinking???!" but my mouth said, "Sure, what did you have in mind?" We did something silly (like buy Trivial Pursuit DVD edition at Walmart and then played it with some friends at his apartment) and I played the part of a go-with-the-flow-kind-of-gal rather well.
It probably doesn't sound like that big of a deal, but it was enough for Ryan to give me a chance. And honestly, being that sporadic almost killed me. I still don't know how I had the courage, but I'm glad I pulled it off. This story would have a happy ending (which, it does for me), but now Ryan is stuck with me, the most non-sporadic person I know.
We have grackles*. They give me the willies. I don't know why exactly, but most of my feelings (positive or negative) toward animals is irrational. The point is just that I hate them.
Lately, I've seen the black ones (males) bullying the brown ones (females). The males keep ruffling their feathers and screaming and chasing away the females. At first it made me mad because, well, domestic violence, right? But then I had a "welcome to life" moment.
Have you ever had a moment like that? I was not raised in a bubble, and yet I blocked out as much unpleasantness of real life as possible. As I've gotten older I have these moments where I have some realization that a normal person would've intrinsically known. For example, I'm listening to a song I listened to in high school and suddenly think, "Wait, that's what this song means???"
Anyway, the point is I realized the birds are not bullying. I asked my brother about it (he majored in wild life sciences) and sure enough, they are mating. Mating!! I'm my backyard! Ech. I'm both disgusted by their shenanigans and horrified at the thought of more grackles.
So I've taken to chasing them out when I catch them. Sometimes I just pound on the window, but I did a dumb thing the other night. I had just had enough and I opened the back door to yell, "Go do it in someone else's yard!!!" Then I realized if the grackles could hear me, so could the neighbors. Probably, I'm now the crazy, prude neighbor. Which was always true, but now they know.
*For most of my life I thought they were called "drackles." It made sense because it reminded me of Dracula, who is also dark and sinister. I've never seen my mom and brother laugh so hard as when they realized what I'd been saying.
My friend had a little misunderstanding with her boss. He wrote her an email that was somewhat amusing. Her response? "Lol." After a few minutes he walked out of his office with a confused/concerned look on his face. "I'm not sure I understood your email," he said. "What's to understand? I just thought what you said was funny," she answered. Again, he looked confused. After a minute he asked, "Wait, what does 'lol' mean?" Of course she explained it meant laugh out loud. Instant relief flooded his face and he exclaimed, "Oh!! I thought it meant lots of love." My friend blankly stared at him for awhile, blinked a few times, and then her boss walked back into his office. Awkward doesn't even cover it.
I really do try not to whine too much. I mean, who wants to sit around reading about my life's complaints? But work has not been happy for me in a loooong time. It seems to get worse and worse. Yesterday, in fact, I was very close to marching up to the controller with my two weeks notice.
But I didn't do it. Because I don't have to! [Also, I don't have to follow the rules of grammar by not starting with conjunctions. Because it's my blog and I'm REALLY tired.] Really though, I am moving back into the exciting world of audit. Sorta. I will be working in the internal audit department.
Honestly, I didn't think that I would be focusing on my career at this point in my life. Since my other plans are taking longer than expected in coming to be, I may as well further my work experience, right? Besides, I think this will be a more rewarding, less stressful position. So, goodbye accounting department!
Well, in another month after they've found my replacement anyway. Let me tell you, they cannot find one fast enough for me. It is time to move on.
The first time I met Ryan's parents, we'd been dating for six months and were very close to engaged. In fact, as soon as he got the parents' approval of me, he proposed like two days later. Needless to say, I was a little nervous.
We went to dinner at Tecano's where they have a little salad buffet. As I was spooning some pasta salad onto my plate Ryan all but shouted, "Christie, you can eat more than that. You're eating for two now!" Of course Ryan's mom was right behind him and I just about died. I turned around to smack him on the head, but his mom beat me to it.
She even apologized for her son being such a goof. I'll always be grateful to my MIL who assumed the best in me. And I'll forever begrudge Ryan for such a rocky start with the in-laws. Payback is still lying in wait for that one . . .
Sunday I heard little tiny cheeps and new we had some new friends. My brother thinks they're house finches. Anyway, I think they're great and more than welcome to stay.
This guy is not welcome. Ryan started going on his nightly hunts around the backyard and found the first two last night. Ugh. I'd trade the baby birds out in a second if it meant I didn't have to have the scorpions. Actually, I'd give up almost anything in my home for a scorpion-free yard. The TV, the piano, maybe even the bed. But not Ryan. If I got rid of him, who would kill the scorpions if they came back? He better stick around; he's needed.
