Little Grumpy Angel

Hawaii 2010

2010-07-01T01:49:00.000-07:00

Say Cheese! The Secret to Vitality

2010-01-22T14:19:00.000-08:00

It started out sort of disturbing, but it actually turned out funny. Just keep watching to the end. The secret to strength and vitality. Say cheese!

Season's Greetings

2009-12-24T15:26:00.000-08:00

Confession of Character: My Motto

2009-11-23T00:01:00.000-08:00

Some people would prefer to think of themselves as "masters of their fates and captains of their souls". To a certain extent I do, too. But I think it takes a little growing up to know that no matter how much you strain and kick and scream, no matter how smart or clever or strong you are, oftentimes things happen beyond your control, and life takes you down roads and takes you to destinations you never wished for. We'd like to think we are birds and we can take wings and fly and determine our destiny. But often times we are mere pollen blown by the wind to a patch of earth we did not choose. Still I believe we are not helpless. Life may limit our choices but we are not without them. We may not have control over what we are given but we have control over what we do with what we are given. I tell myself that although often times I may just have been a pollen in the wind, I nevertheless have the power to choose to bloom or whither away where I am planted. And I choose to bloom---whether it be in soft fertile soil in a garden or among dusty rocks on the side of a road. I can be consequential to those in my little inconsequential corner of life. I can be the best among the most common of flowers growing in my obscure patch of earth. I often share this belief with my kids because it is a lesson I want them to take to heart. For now the roll of their eyes tell me they think it's just their mother being corny or mother-ish. But someday I hope after they have grown up enough they'd remember and think about it and know I really believed it, and living it has made a big difference in my life and the home I made for them.

So perhaps in my desire for them to remember I turned one of the photographs I took into this poster which will hang in my house when I get around to framing it. Soon :-)

Segullah or A "Cherished Possession"

2009-10-02T00:33:00.000-07:00

Guilty of neglect. I know. My poor little blog has been pushed to the bottom of my priority list in what seems like forever now. Summer is just a crazy time. And although it's technically over, all the craziness has not wound down yet. Not really. But it's been fun. Lots of things happened and are still happening. Some were fun. Some were overwhelming. Some were important. Some were obligatory tedium. Some were just the etceteras of life. To all my blogging buddies, I'm so sorry if I have not dropped by for a million years. I have not forgotten how much fun blog-hopping is/was. I have not forgotten how much I have felt attached to many of you. Still am. I'm just not a very good blogger. Not as committed as I should be to keep this little blog of mine going. I'm afraid it might be headed for retirement, maybe not... we shall find out. I do have another blog. It's the one I keep for extended family and kept separate from the blogging game, if you know what I mean. And even that one suffers from neglect...oh, well. My blogging future remains to be seen.

But for now here I am posting. The motivation for this post is Segullah.

What is Segullah? To quote from their website: "Segullah is a journal published twice annually to encourage literary talent, provoke thought and promote greater understanding and faith among Latter-day Saint women. We publish insightful writings which explore life's richness and complexity while reflecting faithfulness to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Our aim is to highlight a variety of women's perspectives within a framework of shared beliefs and values."

The word Segullah is Hebrew which signifies a cherished personal possession that is set apart and diligently cared for.

The Segullah website is: http://segullah.org/. I'm telling you about them because I admire and am in awe of the literary talent of their staff and contributors. But don't take my word for it. Go visit Segullah yourself. And while you are there you might stumble on part of the post that was first published on Mormon Women in their Portraits series.

In Segullah my story is titled Carried By Faith. Heres' the link: http://segullah.org/up-close/keep-believing/ .

I would like to thank my new friend and angel Michelle for giving me the opportunity to be on Segullah. What an honor it has been for me. I know I probably sound very proud. But in truth I am deeply, deeply humbled.

A Mormon Woman In Progress

2009-09-09T01:11:00.000-07:00

Humbling. Overwhelming. Cleansing. And all other mixed emotions.

I never thought I'd ever reveal the most personal side of me, much less on the internet and on a website that I am not associated with. But I did. And I hope it is for a high purpose.

I am featured on "Portraits of Mormon Women", a weeky series on a member missionary website called mormonwoman.org. Their goal is to put accurate and uplifting information about LDS women on the Internet.

Every Wednesday they do a series called "Portraits of Mormon Women" where LDS women are highlighted. They invited me to write a self-introduction and this week it is being featured on their "Portraits" series.

I hope you'll take the time to go check them out. And I hope that as you read my self-introduction and find the side of me which I speak very little of, if at all, that you will not measure me, or judge me. Just know that we are all on the same journey, even if if we are not all on exactly the same point of the road.

You can read my Portrait HERE.

"Wicked"-ly Happy!

2009-08-28T21:14:00.000-07:00

Nothing like happiness to make a person blog even when they're busy. In case you have not noticed I have been sporadic about my blogging with long periods of absence between each post. And I wasn't even planning to post anything for any day soon, but I feel really giddy and happy I decided to share, and brag about it on my blog.

Today I came home from a long day at work and the house was clean. (But that was not the reason I was happy). There was music when I walked into the house, because my son and a couple of friends were jammin' or rockin' it out in the living room. (But that was NOT the reason I was happy.)

Even the dog Jake was well-behaved, and was content to hang out with the boys rather than bug me to take him for a walk. (But that was not the reason I was happy.)

The reason I was happy was there on the dining table! A couple of UPS boxes that were delivered to my door today!

Well, actually, it wasn't the boxes that made me happy, but what's inside that made me so excited I was literally going to cry :-) Silly me! It was these!

Oh, yeah! The Madame Alexander "Wicked Dolls" I ordered were delivered today! I love Madame Alexander dolls and I also love the musical "Wicked". My sister -in-law Lesley and our daughters went to see it in L.A. a couple years ago. It was wonderful. Ever since I've been trying to get me the "Wicked" MA dolls. But it seems "Galinda" and "Elphaba" were never available at the same time. "Elphaba" was most especially hard to find. Stores and websites always had her on back order. And I didn't really just want "Galinda" because I didn't want her without "Elphaba". But a week ago I decided since my birthday is coming up, to check just in case...and lo, and behold! There were 2 Elphabas in stock at Amazon.com. There was no way I was waiting for my birthday to see if my husband will get them for me because "Elphaba" could be gone again by then. So I made an "executive decision" and ordered both dolls. My husband was okay with it when I told him later. He said despite the scary economy I deserved to reward myself for hard work. Plus I got me a little bonus check from work recently so it's not like I was taking food away from the table just so I could have stupid dolls :-), right?

But these stupid dolls are making me happy right now. Look at this 8 inch "Galinda". Ah, the details. So lovely! Isn't she gorgeous?

My favorite, of course, is "Elphaba" --- so spunky and "odd". So wicked in a good kind of way. So unattractive in a pretty kind of way. Such a contradiction. I definitely identify with the character.

I am enjoying my dolls! I am really just a little girl inside because I feel so happy right now for something so frivolously silly and trivial as dolls. But who cares?

I'm flying high,

Defying gravity!

Marivic on Speed, Shutter Speed That Is

2009-08-14T00:30:00.000-07:00

I recently "ran into" some people from my past in cyber-space. Very important people to me. People who have influenced me and left an imprint on who I have become.

Among them, my favorite Mass Communication teacher, Miss Leyson. It was she who encouraged my love for my third language (English). She mentored me when I was editor-in-chief of my college newspaper. She nurtured my interest in writing as a way to communicate a message, and not just as a medium for my self-absorbed rantings. As you can tell I'm still working on that skill :-). My blogging unfortunately resembles the latter... I also re-connected with my Photojournalism professor... (YOU CAN READ MORE ABOUT THIS HERE)

Starstruck by Heidi Ashworth

2009-07-13T00:22:00.000-07:00

I met Heidi Ashworth on Sunday. You know Heidi as in "Miss Delacourt Speaks Her Mind" by Heidi Ashworth Heidi. Funny Heidi. Witty Heidi. Dunhaven Place Heidi. Published author Heidi. Yah, that Heidi.

If you've been around Blogland you know who I am talking about.

I was so starstruck I turned into a babbling idiot... READ MORE HERE...

Excited and flustered while standing next to a pretty and poised Heidi. Where the heck did my eyes go?

Beach Road

2009-07-10T17:20:00.000-07:00

My book club's reading assignment for June was "Beach Road"* by James Patterson and Peter DeJonge.

(And, no. It was not lost on me that my extended fam's beloved beach house in So Cal is on Beach Road, but James Patterson's Beach Road is in the Hamptons out east. While we have celebrities like ...

(READ MORE HERE).

On Opposite Sides of the Ocean

2009-06-19T00:01:00.000-07:00

(Earlier this week I posted this on the Cuyos family blog. Now I've decided this belongs in my own blog, too, so I'm reposting the edited version)

One of my fondest memories from my childhood was spending almost every weekend at the beach. That just seems like the natural thing to do when you grow up on a tropical island and when your maternal grandparents live close to the beach. I remember swimming with my siblings and cousins in the placid waters of the sea. Not quite like the violent, adrenalin pumping surf of the waters on this side of the globe. My parents watched us, of course, but for the most part we splashed around uninhibited. I remember playing my heart out during the day. I also remember eating a lot. Somehow I always associate going to the beach with grilled fish and steaks. On the ride home my brothers and sisters and I would fall asleep and next thing we knew we were in bed dreaming happy dreams of endless sunny days. It was a carefree, fun and happy time in my life. The sense of well-being I felt then is partly recreated for me when I go to the beach now that I am an adult. I'm sure it is the same for my brothers and sisters, too.

This is an old photo from those days. From the left, that's my uncle with my brother, my aunt with my sister, then there's Me squinting at the camera when I was about 4 years old, and behind me is my Dad.
This summer I was able to spend time on a beach in Southern California with my kids and husband and his extended family. It's their family vacation spot since my husband and his siblings were young. Now the vacationing family includes in-laws, grandchildren and great grandchildren. Very comfortably reminiscent of my own family beach excursions.
While at the beach I didn't splash around in the surfy waters, because I'm just not that carefree anymore. I do not like being swallowed by the waves, rolled and regurgitated, then spat out back onto the shore, all wet, disheveled and blotchy-skinned. The adult me prefers walking around taking pictures with my camera or just sitting on a comfortable chair in a pretty sundress :-) watching everyone else play in the water. But believe it or not, I still had the best time of my summer.
Meanwhile, eight thousand miles across from me on the opposite side of the Pacific Ocean, my brother and his family were also spending vacation time enjoying the beach.
Here are pictures of my brother, my sister-in-law and their kids in Moalboal (pronounced Moo-ahl-Boo-ahl), a resort on the island of Cebu in the Philippines.

Here are photos of me and my family in Southern California.

One day soon, we hope, our families will be able to spend time together on the same beach on the same side of the earth. My brother probably will not like the surfy waters of Southern California :-) but he'll get used to it and learn to like it like I did. If he doesn't, well, then it will be like old times. I'll just tell him to snap out of it because I'm the boss. I'm firstborn and he's the baby, and what I say goes :-) (Just kidding, Bro!)
How about you? Do you like going to the beach?
This is me at the beach when I was a toddler sitting on my Great Grand Aunt's lap fiddling with my orange soda.

Count Down to Vacation!

2009-05-17T21:21:00.000-07:00

2+ more weeks to the beach house. I am so ready for vacation! See ya there family!

A Mother's Treasure

2009-05-11T00:01:00.000-07:00

I broke my commitment to my blog break today because it's Mother's Day (well, technically it will be Monday by the time this post appears on my blog). And my 18-year old daughter made me cry on this special day. For a good reason. This may sound like a self-serving invitation, but if you want to find out how Tara made me cry on Mother's Day go over to her blog and read this post about her Mom. Then you'll know why I was uncharacteristically weepy today. Even if she wasn't writing about me I would still be amazed and proud of my extremely talented baby girl.

There are days when I think I have never done anything harder in my life, or is failing more miserably in anything than being a Mom. Then there are days that are like finding out you're getting an enormous tax refund. I got me an enormous emotional refund on Mothers Day. The rare but heartfelt tears were justified. I feel blessed among women to have raised such a treasure of a girl. Go check her out at Into A Paper Cup.

24 Years Into Forever

2009-04-26T00:01:00.000-07:00

I'm breaking away from my blog-break to quickly post

a little "present" to the love of my life :-)

It's our 24th wedding anniversary this Sunday, April 26th.

I just want the world to know how blessed I feel

to have met him, fallen in love with him, and asked by him to be his wife,

and especially to be loved by him all these years.

So for my video editing debut, :-) here's a little video tribute I put together to celebrate

our wonderful years together.

Gone Fishing--er, Walking, Exercising, Cleaning, and Just Living

2009-04-14T00:01:00.000-07:00

First things first--- Bloggers Annex gave me some love last Friday and posted a poem I wrote. I feel so honored. If you have time kindly go over there by clicking here so you can take a look and see my humble/lame attempt at poetry. You can tell, I'm no great poet but, oh well--- it's a fun little hobby I've had since high school--- writing poems. Thanks Bloggers Annex for enabling and humoring me!

http://neldapieperstudio.com/newbsimages.html

Talking of hobbies, come May (next month already!) I will be celebrating my bloggy-versary. I can't believe it's been a year since I started this fun little hobby. I'm going to do a GiveAway post like most people do when the date hits. But meanwhile I'm gonna go fishing so to speak:-) I'm taking an extended AND indefinite break from blogging and blog-surfing because ---

Well, spring and summer seasons are here. The days are longer and warmer and I need to have an active life away from the computer. It's been fun and cathartic to blog, and I love the people I got to know from my blog surfing. I have a few favorites (you guys know who you are!) so I'm sure I'll pop by now and again on you guys' blogs even during my break. But I've been thinking a lot about finding balance in my life and here are some reasons why I'm taking a leave of absence from blogging:

I spend all day at a demanding job that requires me to stare at the computer all day. I think a change of scenery when I get home is required for my mental and emotional health.
I attended a Spring-Into-Health Class (company sponsored) a few days ago and realized that for me to stay physically healthy I need to cut down on sedentary hobbies and get back to walking and exercising. Not possible when I'm addicted to blog-surfing and blogging.
I need my beauty sleep :-) or I'll look like a bag lady pretty soon. I've been desperately sleep deprived since my obsession with blogs started.
My dog needs his Mommy :-) Many times I choose to blog instead of play with Jake. I think the vet will hate me if he knows.
My children need their Mommy and my husband needs his wife. A full-time job already makes it hard. Throw in blogging, and the balancing act gets more complicated. I don't want to be too distracted orchestrating in my mind how to post my life instead of actually living my life. Sick :-(
My boss needs a focused employee in this challenging economic climate. I need to be concentrating on marketing strategies to help my team succeed. I hate that I sometimes find myself taking extra breaks during my work day to check people's blogs---shhhh. Arrrg, I'm a time thief! :-)
My laundry needs keeping up. My laundry room has become a big shameful mess. It's been a big mess since I started blogging.
I want a clean house again. My house is not nasty or anything, but it's not as clean as I used to keep it. Little details have been ignored (like the cleanliness of 3 bathrooms) since I've been too busy keeping up with blogs.
I need to read good books again. I have a stack of books next to my bed I was supposed to read during winter season. Blog surfing is reading, yes, but often times it's like snacking. I need to feast on good literature and get away from snacks for awhile.
I need to be more prepared for my scripture study group sessions. The reason I joined is so I am motivated to study the scriptures. I'm one of those who'd really rather goof than read the scriptures. Just being honest. I need my study group or I'm doomed!:-)
I need to figure out my new toy: the Blackberry Storm. Husband, son and daughter each have an iPod Touch while I have a Nano, so I decided to splurge on me and get me the latest and greatest Blackberry phone to equalize things. But apprarently I need to spend time learning how to make all the bells and whistles work so I can enjoy it better.
I now have Facebook as an option. Less chance to be long-winded and bore or offend people when you are limited to how much you can post :-) Plus the task of leaving comments on multiple people's pages is so much more efficient. If you want to find me on Facebook you are welcome to. I promise I consider blog friends FRIENDS. And if I find you I hope you accept me.

I know many women out there are beautifully balancing family, housework, health and "beauty", recreation, personal development, literary pursuits, career, etc while blogging and blog-surfing frequently. But sad to say I am not as competent or organized or driven...

So for now you will see less of me around Bloglandia. Like I said I will still visit people's blogs now and again, when I have REAL down time from the above. I will also still post maybe but probably mostly just updates for the benefit of family members or for journaling reasons. I'll understand if you guys decide to abandon me :-(...

When I do my GiveAway for my bloggy-versary in May I'll make sure I'll contact y'all so you won't miss it.

So see ya later, bloggy-besties!

What's Inside Your Paper Bag?

2009-04-10T00:01:00.000-07:00

Isn’t it funny how lessons in life can come from the most unexpected places? Never did I think that moments of illumination can come out of brown paper bags.

A month or so ago we had one of the best Enrichment Night (my church’s activity night for women) that I’ve attended. Normally, I don’t do Enrichment Night (it used to be known as Homemaking Night) because I’m mentally allergic to things artsy-craftsy and homemakingly (not a real word, but you know what I mean). I say allergic because it’s like when one loves chocolate but has an adverse reaction to it when they eat it. That’s me and artsy-craftsy-homemaking stuff. I want to do it to fit in better with the SAHMs in our church, but my brain shuts down and breaks out in hives at the sight of recipes, scrapbooks, glue-guns, etc. In a world of women who are talented at and who find joy in cooking, baking, painting and gluing I am a freak. Of course, I do these things when I have to and my husband claims I'm pretty good (blinded by love?) , but where the heck is the joy?

Our last enrichment activity, however, was not all about things I am mentally/emotionally allergic to. Could it have been inspired? (Okay, okay, forgive. I’m being irreverently facetious.) It started with a clever Enrichment leader handing out brown paper bags at church and instructing everyone to put “who they are in the paper bag” and to bring it to Enrichment Night. Was there ever a better hook to reel the fish in with? If they were trying for better attendance it worked. I heard it was the best attended Enrichment night in awhile. How could anyone resist? I couldn’t. I had to know what that was all about. And since it also was not looking like an artsy-craftsy night, I went. And I was glad I did. For I now carry with me memorable lessons from brown paper bags.

When we got to the activity, we were told that we would have to reveal who we are to the rest of the group by showing and explaining what was in our paper bag. The purpose: get to know each other. We are a newly formed ward (congregation), with members taken from three different wards. So far we have sized up one another by outward appearances and made judgments about each other by what we see only with our eyes. Now we are to show one another more of ourselves. It’s time to look beyond outward appearances and perceived status (according to our own or our husbands's church callings/positions), and look into what we really are about as individuals.

Of course, it was inevitable that from some women’s paper bags, out came family portraits, and scriptures and scrapbooks and cookbooks and knitting needles. Those are things many LDS women define themselves by. But from the same bags also were running shoes, iPods, calculators, souvenirs from world travels, vintage jewelry, funky hats, stethoscopes, etc. My interest peaked as each sister revealed unexpected, and sometimes non-traditional facets of their lives. I didn't need a heavenly inspired event to tell me that beyond the stereotypes are diverse individuals, but I did need this one Enrichment Night to remind me that I need to try harder to get to know the individual inside the "paper bag", and not be so carelessly dismissive.

One paper bag was actually memorable not for what was inside it but for what wouldn’t fit inside it. A motor cycle helmet. It belonged to a sister who originally impressed me as --well, if I'm being honest --- kind of loud. Apparently her ride is a Harley. An LDS biker babe! Then she told the story of how she got pulled over by a cop for creating a traffic hazard by distracting other motorists. She was riding her Harley wearing nothing but a bathing suit and flip flops. She did have a towel wrapped around her waist though. Can you imagine that picture? She explained to the cop that she was rushing from her job as a swimming instructor to a second job. She didn’t have time to change into more appropriate clothes and didn’t want to be late. She is a divorced Mom raising young kids. The cop excused her so she could get to her job on time to clock in and change her clothes. He reasoned at least she was wearing her helmet. But he did admonish her for safety reasons to wear shoes next time not flip flops. Nothing said about the swimsuit while riding a Harley. I was amused and amazed. I was glad the cop had a better heart than mine. He knew that sometimes folks just need to make the best of what life hands them. But don't forget to wear a helmet, sensible shoes and a sense of humor for protection in case of falls --- and judgmental people.

Also at the activity was a young bride who I was tempted to dismiss as just another TAMN (Seriously So Blessed) a character so entertaining only because she is fake; otherwise she would be unbearably shallow. Instead this young sister pulled out from her paper bag evidence of her social conscience and a sense of purpose. She is a self-proclaimed Hippie Republican (ain't that an oxymoron!) She is a vegetarian, who loves the environment and animals. She talked about how she digs Edgar Alan Poe, Johnny Depp and Tim Burton films (Hey, me, too!). Even with her beautifully young and fresh face framed in reddish blond hair, she turned out not to be TAMN-ish in any way.

Then there’s the newly minted grandmother and former Relief Society president. She pulled out her old ballet shoes from her brown bag. Long ago as a young woman, she danced with a ballet company in her home city. Long ago. A dream given up for home and family. I felt a sense of melancholy inside me. I thought of the person I didn’t become because I became wife and Mom, a role I love and will choose again, but nevertheless, a role that meant the end of other dreams. I looked around me at the other sisters and wondered how many dreams lay buried at the bottom of those brown paper bags, under scrapbooks, cookbooks, and knitting needles. The breadth of their unrecognized selflessness filled me with awe. The joy they found in their choice filled me with gratitude.

I went home enriched that night. Enriched by the diversity I found among those who share one common faith. Enriched by women whose lives are filled with love bourne of selfless sacrifices. Women who are cliches but only to those who don't bother to look deeper into their brown paper bags.

I think I am going to like my new ward. And I think I might be going to another Enrichment Night. I'm still going to groan and roll my eyes next time I have to paint a wooden bunny, or decorate a cupcake. But at least I'll have fun knowing and learning from my sisters.

Give me a chance to know you and learn from you. Tell me, what's in your paper bag?

My Cavemen Are Off For Male Bonding Time

2009-04-06T00:01:00.000-07:00

Spring break. And my boys have left me and my daughter in the splendor of our girlie trappings so they could be manly-men and go find the proverbial cave where they could be cavemen uninterrupted. Well, okay, it's not that dramatic. They've actually just gone off on a Dad-Son road trip for male bonding time. A few days at Zion's National Park, then to go see the Grand Canyon, then hang out for a couple of days or so in Las Vegas. I think they'll have fun at Zion's and in Arizona, but I'm not sure about what my husband will teach my son about manhood in Las Vegas. Maybe he'll use billboards like this as visual aid :-) to re-enforce to his son lessons on chastity, and the importance of finding a girl who respects her body and his priesthood? Hm. Sure. Let's go with that story :-)(For the sensitive I have digitally distorted the offending be-thonged rear-end so I could post this picture I took when the husband and I were in Vegas last spring).

Well, so now my daughter and I are left alone at home without the messy boys. Part of me was actually looking forward to this. Gosh, how nice would it be to air the house out and not have that testosterone scented sweat floating around the air? It would be nice to not have to pick up dirty socks for a few days or not to listen to electric guitars and drums for a few evenings. My daughter will be busy with work and her social life this week, so I practically would have no one to cook for and pick up after except myself! A few quiet evenings. Yay!

So why am I feeling blue? This stinks! I miss my boys already and it's not even a full day since they left. Suddenly curling up with a great book, watching TV all day long, and going out shopping and having dinner with girlfriends don't seem so fun anymore. I just want to go out for a walk with my husband then cuddle up to watch a movie later on. I want to go interrupt my son's video game and be what he calls the "weird Mom" who likes to hug him and say "I love you, baby boy!" in my baby-talk voice. I want to hear that baby boy say, "Mom, stop it! I'm 16!"

Here are my boys making sandwiches to take on the road before they left. You can tell why I adore them, can't you?

Can somebody please tell me what to do with myself until da boyz get back?

I Don't Believe David Archuleta Is The Lord's American Idol, But I Love Annette Lyon's New Book

2009-03-27T00:01:00.000-07:00

A young woman practically just barely out of her teens raising a son as a single mother, struggles to overcome tragedy, gets an education, starts a career and eventually buys her own business with hopes of providing well for her son. She then meets a good man, and after several encounters sometimes poignant, sometimes comedic, falls in love with him, and he with her, and now she has to make peace with the ghosts of her past to find lasting happiness.

Sounds like a plot for a cable channel drama? Or perhaps a starting premise for a weekly show on network TV? No, it's not, but isn't the theme so contemporary that it could be the story of the woman who lives two doors down from you, right now in 2009 instead of a character in a Mormon historical novel set in the 1880's?

This fascinating character was what/who kept me reading Annette Lyon’s new book “Tower of Strength”. This character is Tabitha, a woman so ahead of her time that she is timeless and thus relevant. Not your typical damsel in distress, waiting for her prince to sweep her off her feet (even though she wears flowers on her hair :-D). Rather she has smarts, courage, independence, and occasional spunk. She is someone I want to identify with, and be like, even though she is from a time full of women whose lives I would not wish for myself or my daughter. I want to emulate their strength of character and the depth of their faith, but I do not want to live stifled by the physical and social limitations of their time in history. It is against this historical backdrop that Tabitha becomes a character so interesting I read a Mormon historical novel for the very first time ever. And can you tell I liked what I read?

I have never read Mormon novels before Annette's book. Nah. In fact, I stayed away from Mormon novels. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with reading them per se, but I just refused to read them. Maybe I’m an oddball, or maybe I’m just not that kind of Mormon. You know the kind who thinks David Archuleta is the Lord’s American Idol (and don't get me started on The Osmonds!). The same kind who thinks the BYU Cougars are the Lord’s football team (Hello! People, did you even go to BYU?) , and Mitt Romney was the righteous choice for president whose divine destiny was frustrated by the evils of men, and reading Mormon novels with blatant Mormon themes written by Mormon authors is righteousness to the max because it keeps you untainted by the world unlike novels by non-LDS authors. Okay, I exaggerate. Maybe there are really no Mormons who are that way, but I’ve met a few who are pretty close. That kind of Mormon scares me. You see for me, there’s the gospel, and there’s the Mormon culture. Not the same things. Refusing to read Mormon-themed novels was maybe my way of ensuring I do not confuse my faith with the culture.

Then one day, Annette asked me to join her book blog tour. I profusely thanked her and told her I was excited. I was. Truly I was. She is an award winning author and she is asking me to read her book and write about it? I was honored, but I was also worried sick. What if I have nothing good to say not because it's an awful book but liking or not liking a book is subjective? What if I’ll think it’s cheesy and all-warm-and-fuzzy-ooohwey-goohwey? Would I lie to keep everyone happy, or would I tell the truth and make everyone hate me?

That turned out to be such an unnecessary trepidation. I speed-read through her book in hours not just becasue I'm a speed-reader since grade school but I was riveted and somewhat surprised. ANNNETTE’s BOOK IS GREAT! It is so well written it melted away my prejudice against Mormon novels and allowed me to enjoy a genre I’ve never tried before. I liked it so much I am recommending it to the book club an RS leader has asked me to organize and start for our ward. To whet your appetite for the book, here’s a video trailer. Go ahead and watch if you have not already.

To save you some time, I’ve turned off the COMMENTS for this post because I’d rather you go here to buy the book.

And if you want to know more about Annette go stalk her here.

"Mental Junk" Drawer: Bloggernacle, FaceBooking With My Bishop, Etc.

2009-03-20T14:37:00.000-07:00

Lisa from AwayFromItAll suggested in the past to link my Mental Junk Drawer post to Friday Fragments at Half-Past Kissin' Time so I'm doing it this week... ENJOY!

I want to give my props to Heidi of Dunhaven Place, famous blogger and successful author of the Miss Delacourt Speaks Her Mind novel who honors me with her blog visits now and again. She let me know that my previous post made it to the Bloggernacle at Mormontimes.com. I was really touched that she made time to inform me despite her crazy blogging life (have you read this post? whew!) I would have never known about the nod from Bloggernacle had Heidi not told me because I would have never thought to look. I mean, com'on! Me and my post? Getting some love on Bloggernacle? I'm not being falsely modest when I say there cannot possibly be an acknowledgement more unexpected. And I would have never thought of searching for any kudos floating out there for me, so "Thanks Heidi!" It would have been a shame for me to miss such a feel-good moment. I've never met Heidi in person, but I am not surprised by the kind gesture. Her identical twin sister lives down the street from me, and she is one classy lady. Since as I said they are identical twins it goes without saying Heidi must be a classy lady, too.

Of course I also want to thank Emily W. Jensen for selecting my post. It made me feel like maybe I don't --you know--stink up the blogging world. "Emily Jensen aggregates topics of interest found around the bloggernacle in her column “Bloggernacle Back Bench,” which appears on MormonTimes.com on Tuesdays. She also compiles a list of blogs she likes every weekday." ... So I'm feeling a bit legit right now :-) I'd say since she picked my post about my mother-in-law and made Mom in effect "famous" then Emily might have just secured my place in Mom's will. Mom says she has none but just in case! You never know what's under mom's mattress.

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Okay. Big decision I made this week. I opened FaceBook and what did I see? Well, I wish it was pop-corn popping on the apricot tree, but No! It was a friend-request on FaceBook from my Bishop (pastor) !!!! Don't get me wrong. We have a very nice bishop. I have not known him long enough because we came from pieces of 2 wards (congregations) that were carved out and attached to another ward when our stake (diocese?) was re-zoned. He and his wife seem like such nice folks. But still! My bishop on FaceBook? As my friend? And did I say he came from my mother's ward and knows my mother very well? What if he tattles on me, or bishops me around on the internet? I had to think about that friend-request. I thought --- can I still say things like "Hugh Jackman is a hottie-patootie" to my friends if I know my bishop can read such non-sense? Hmmm. Should I be inhibited in my own space and feel like I have to always be in good girl mode? But if I ignore his request, next time I see him in church would be AWK.WARD. Arrrgh! What's a girl to do???? Well, the girl felt she didn't have a choice but to click "confirm" and is now Facebook friends with the Bishop. I tell myself it's not going to be uncomfortable at all. I'm sassy but wholesome (says my friends). Bratty but nice (says my husband). And if Bishop W can read me say "Hugh Jackman is a hottie-patootie," then there's a chance I will also see his non-bishoppy side, right? Maybe he'll slip and say something like, "That Angelina Jolie is --insert cheeky description here--!" So I think Bishop W should be the one watching out :-) Yay!

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Obama's gaffe. Tsk! Tsk! I say forgive the guy for his joke on the Special Olympics. You can't hold him responsible for what he says without a teleprompter. Plus he did some good this week like his e-harmony-ish video for Iran. I totally expect the Iranians to now give up their nuclear program, and start dancing on the streets while singing "Age of Aquarius". If they don't and start bombing Israel instead, then at least Prez Obama can say he gave the e-harmony strategy a chance.

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Have you seen this amazing dancing bird? He sure made his owner proud and made her a YouTube sensation. What a great pet. I looked at my dog, Jake, as he lazily flopped himself at my feet and asked, "What have you done for Mommy lately, Jake?" He just gave me that "I'm too cool to be used"-look (same look my son sometimes gives me). That's it. I'm switching you to the cheap dog food, you spoiled brat. Anyway, enjoy Frostie the Dancing Bird shaking it to Ray Charles.

Celebrating The Irish On St. Patrick’s Day, Also Known As Weasel-ing My Way Into My Mother-In-Law’s Will

2009-03-13T00:01:00.001-07:00

I have always wanted to give my mother-in-law some bloggy love, but never felt like I had the opportunity to. For some time now I have wanted to post about her and celebrate the wonderful person that she is here in my blog, but I just didn’t think I could do it on any of her special days, such as her birthday, or on mother’s day because she has sons and daughters and grandchildren (all related by blood, not just by marriage) who are bloggers. I didn’t want to detract from their tribute to Mom by doing my own thing. It just seems rather ~~obvious that I’m trying to get a cut of the inheritance~~ improper. It’s like the mother of the groom getting too involved in the planning of the wedding reception. It’s okay to a certain point, but you can go too far and start stepping on the bride's and bride's mother's toes.

However, St Patrick’s Day is open season for honoring the Irish, so this is the day I pick to honor my mother in law. Because she is Irish. Not the kind of Irish who descended from some passenger on some ancient ship which docked in the New World and whose children and grandchildren married Norwegians, Italians, Cherokee Indians, etc. but a hundred years later the descendants still claim to be Irish, because they like the happy-hour at Irish pubs? Or it's cool to be Irish on St Patrick's Day? No. She is not that kind of Irish. She is the born in Ireland kind of Irish, the kind who actually grew up in Ireland and has a Belfast-accent, got married (to an Englishman) in Ireland, lived in Ireland and gave birth to the first three of her six children in Ireland. Yes, that’s the kind of Irish my mother in law is. So since St. Patrick’s Day is the day we celebrate Irish traditions, then it is the day I celebrate and honor my favorite Irish: my mother in law.

My husband's mom is the best mother in law you can wish upon any daughter in the world. Believe me I know what I’m talking about. As a kid I lived through the carnage and devastation of World Wars III, IV, V, etc., which broke out between my mother and grandmother (my dad’s mom) throughout my grandmother’s life. Both women were wonderful women except to each other and they love me, and I love them. But do you know how difficult it was to have two people I love despise each other? I grew up dreading the thought of ever having a mother-in-law of my own. So when I say I have the world’s best mother-in-law, I am somewhat of an expert on the subject.

There are a million reasons why I love my mother in law also known as my Mom (my mother is known as my Mama), but here are just a few of the major ones:

1. Mom raised a wonderful son to become a loving, supportive, thoughtful, considerate, devoted husband---my husband. The kind of husband who irons his own shirts, goes grocery shopping, takes care of the dog and the kids (not necessarily in that order), takes his turn at cooking, cleaning the kitchen and other house work without feeling emasculated. The kind of husband who often lets me sleep in on weekends, and even brings me breakfast to bed, then makes a bath for me. The kind of husband who tells me I work hard all week, too, so he’ll take care of me because he wants to and he can. That kind of husband was once a boy being raised by a mother. A good mother. The mother who became my mother-in-law.

2. Mom is someone who loves being a Grandma. She lets me be the parent and never interferes with how I am raising her grandchildren. She is enjoying being Granma so much she has no time to worry about my parenting skills. She is a fun Granma and her grandchildren love her. They enjoy talking to her on the phone and are very excited when she comes to California to visit. I am truly grateful that they have her in their life, someone who loves them unconditionally, someone who is genuinely interested in who they are and who they are becoming, someone who dependably holds that warm blanket of grandmotherly love and security around them.

3. Mom treats me like her own and taught me how to make “sody-n-taty” (soda and potato bread) so my family can enjoy a complete Ulster Fry,--that's the extended family's (my husband and kids included) favorite Irish breakfast. Well, favorite breakfast. Period. I am really honored she taught me because, first of all, I am one of those women who are culinary-challenged. Second of all, I am Filipino and do not have a drop of Irish in me to make me a natural at making “sody-n-taty” and Ulster Fry. But my mother-in-law taught me anyway when I asked her to. This is what Ulster Fry looks like. It is sinfully yummy so I secretly call it the Cardiac-Arrest Fry. Secretly because I don’t want to ruin my husband's and children’s enjoyment of their full Irish breakfast by thinking of cholesterol. We don't have it often so it is always a treat and it's okay for treats to be swimming in cholesterol-rich fat :-)

4. Mom is my role model for “growing smart, not old”. She loves to learn new skills. She is better at using the computer than a lot of women her age that I know. I love it when Mom calls me at work to ask me to walk her through a feature of a Microsoft Office program because she needs to learn it to complete a new project. Or when she calls my husband to ask him about installing and using her new computer video-editing software. I am impressed and amazed that she is not one of these stubborn “mature citizens” who think that technology is the curse of humanity and are disdainful of new ways of doing things. She is simply just one of the girls, an active participant in the family’s popular hobby of blogging and was even on FaceBook before me. How cool of a Mom/Granma is she!

5. Mom has a wonderful sense of humor. Dad (my father in law) may be the recognized stand-up comic/entertainer of the family, but Mom is just as witty and pretty darn funny. Mom is my role model on how to deal with life’s little irritations with humor. The last time she and Dad came to visit, Mom had a problem with her leg and had a hard time getting in and out of the car. It seemed like there was a big ritual to get her in and out. Dad had to literally lift her legs over and out of the car for her to get up. It started to make me feel depressed that Mom had to deal with this problem until I heard and saw Mom laughing her head off because she managed to make her husband’s task of lifting her “frozen” legs out of the car a cheeky affair. Pretty soon they were both giggling like silly teen-agers in the back of my car, and I was like, “Mom! Dad! You are on my driveway! The neighbors might start wondering what you are doing in the backseat of the car! Sheesh!”

I can go on and on with this list for awhile, but I’m sure you don’t have the time. If I made you curious about my mother-in-law, visit her blog here (Irish I’s). It’s a family blog but I don’t think she’d mind, and it's not private.

And if you haven’t had enough Irish for the day, here’s my half-Irish husband visiting his Mom’s birthplace last summer with our quarter-Irish :-) daughter, in front of Dunluce Castle near Port Rush.

(For more photos from the trip to Northern Ireland click here.)

How about you? Do you get along with your mother-in-law or is she your monster-in-law?

I'll Dance Around The World!

2009-03-06T00:01:00.003-08:00

Someday Alan and I are going to do what this guy did. Alan, the proper man that he is, probably won't do the goofy dancing part (except when we get to Papua New Guinea then, heck, I'll make him !) Someday --- when we finally make it out of the financial rubble inflicted by feeding, clothing, sheltering, socializing and college-educating our kids---we'll travel the world!

It's good to have dreams... It makes growing old, retiring, and turning into the "old people" at family gatherings bearable :-) Just as long as I can dance around the world before then, so I'll have plenty of memories to occupy my time as I maneuver my walker or sit in my rocking chair at the nursing home.

Oh, yeah. My husband says I have to get over my extreme distaste for flying and digging my nails into his arm when there's turbulence before we can do it. I forgot about that. Hmm. I'll make it happen. I know I can. Plus we're already off to a good start. Between the two of us we can already check off about a dozen of the places they show on this clip. So, "Hello, USA. Hello, World"!

Mental "Junk Drawer": Mistresses, Armpits, Dumb Americans, Facebook "Creepers", Etc

2009-02-27T00:01:00.000-08:00

I can’t find a topic I want to exclusively blog about this week, at least not one that I’ve focused on so as to be able to think cohesively and intelligently about. I do have a couple of “odds and ends” just floating around in my brain. I just need to stop long enough to reflect on how they may be relevant to me or why I’m wasting brain cell space keeping them in my cranium. Here's a peek at my mental "junk drawer":

1. Multi-millionaires are participating in the economic recession. I read an "old" article from the Wall Street Journal about a survey indicating that America’s multi-millionaires are dealing with economic hardships by cutting down on gifts and allowances to their mistresses. The article was from August last year but was recently talked about on some radio program I was listening to during my commute to work. I was fascinated so I had to google it. The mistress-question was part of a survey about private jet ownership.

Hmmm, I was thinking the question they didn’t ask, but they should have, was if a multi-millionaire had to choose between his private jet and his kept-woman, which one would he pick. And if a mistress gets "fired" or "laid-off" can she collect unemployment? Times must be hard when it has an impact even on adultery.

2. Who died and made magazines in charge of a town's self-image? A week or so ago Stockton, California was named Forbes Magazine’s “Most Miserable City”. They say it’s because it’s not only “ground zero” for the country’s housing melt-down, but it also ranked-high on other misery indices. It’s only about 82 miles from where I live, so I have actually driven through Stockton a few times and although it's not exactly a pretty city, it didn't look "miserable" to me. The city where I reside, on the other hand, was named by Family Circle Magazine in 2008 as one of the "10 Best Towns for Families in America". It was the only California city on the list and residents were pretty proud of that. Two cities, 82 miles apart, 2 different stories.

But---I wonder if “misery” is contagious, and spreads outward like a seismic ripple. I wonder if all the things that make Stockton miserable will eventually, in this times of economic chaos, find it’s way to where I live.

I also wonder if the residents of Battle Mountain, Nevada, designated by the Washington Post in 2001 as the “Armpit of America”, feel good they didn’t make the "miserable city" list. It couldn’t be good for Battle Mountain to be on this other notorious list. How would you feel if your town is thought of as miserable and needs deodorant? Yikes!

3. Are we getting dumber? My daughter and I just had this discussion recently: America is going through a devolution. Devolution -the process of declining from a higher to a lower level of effective power or vitality or essential quality. In the past only the smartest, strongest and best of the species survive. But medical break-throughs have changed that. Now, the weak and the -um, not so smart and the genetically defective survive as well, thanks to advances in science, medicine and technology. Add to that the phenomenon that smart Americans are choosing to have less or no children while the not so smart Americans are churning out babies. Case in point: the Angelina Jolie-wanna-be Octuplets-Mom! I'm sure she has good qualities, and I'm sure there are reasons that I should be more sympathetic than judgmental of this poor creature. But let's face it, she is one mentally disturbed woman with an apparently fertile womb. If disturbed people like that continue to be allowed to prolifically reproduce, in a few years the not so smart will outnumber the smart ones.

Hey, sort of like the United States congress! It happened already!

4. When did I become "old"? Recently a friend invited me to be on Facebook. Apparently that's where the "cool people" hang out. Do I want to be cool and keep abreast of technology and pop culture? Maybe. But why would I take "cool tips" from another suburban Mom with teen-age kids? Why not ask my resident-cool people (son and daughter) if being on FaceBook is cool? So I asked: Should I be on FaceBook? Answer: "Gasp! Mom maybe you should not be on Facebook. Some old people who are on FaceBook are creepers!" HEY! First, who says I'm old? AND when did the universe decide that old people cannot partake in "cool new things? Well, my daughter told me it's okay if I'm on Facebook as long as I don't stalk young people like some of these old people.

So guess who's on Facebook? And guess what the headline was on the local paper Thursday?

If you think these thoughts are just plain foolish--- well, what do you expect? I told you they are incohesive, undigested odds and ends from the junk drawer of my mind. So be nice with your comments, okay?

"Wild, Wild" Me

2009-02-17T00:01:00.000-08:00

Remember this photo from this post?

Yup, that's me (front and center) and the sales managers from the office dressed up as the girl version of KISS during our company's Back to the 70's party a couple years ago. If you read that old post you know I have a crazy chick for an alter-ego. But only at parties. On ordinary days, I'm just an ordinary, largely uninteresting person who works in a downtown office (boring) and goes home to a happy little family in the suburb (yawn) where I do my wife-and-mommy routine (ho-hum) and where on Sundays I go to church with nice people (yawn) so I can become a better person (zzzzzzz!)

It does often seem I am in danger of falling asleep at the wheel while driving through my wholesome life. It might be squeaky clean and peaceful in Nice-ville, but it's awful dull sometimes. Maybe that's why when I am given permission to spice things up and pretend to be a "bad girl" I grab it and run with it. I've been told I am very, very good at pretending to be bad. My friends actually tell me they find it tremendously entertaining. Well, I'm always glad to be of service.

I love our annual costume party at work because it obviously gives me the chance to be bad without the consequences of when one is "bad" for reals. For this year's costume party held a couple of weeks ago, the theme was "Wild, Wild West". So let's see--- do you think I came to the party predictably dressed as cowgirl like most of the gals? Or did I dress up as a little-house-on-the-praire dudette? A-la Melissa Gilbert? Heck, no! I am already stuck being your typical "nice-girl" all of my life (nicotine-free, drug-free, alcohol-free, cuss-free and modestly covered). If I have to be nice and wholesome even for a costume party, I might as well just stay home and go to bed. I had to be "baaaaad". Soooo I went to the party dressed up as --- in my daughter's words--- a "skanky" saloon girl. Hee-haw!

Why? Because saloon girls have more fun. They get to wear feather boas, fishnet stockings and red cowboy boots! When do I ever get to do that in real life? Talk about being a crowd-pleaser. I felt empowered. It was better than shooting a toy gun. Yeah, baby!

Part of the fun of being the attention-getting bad girl with the feather boa is you tend to be underestimated during the fun and games. And then you get to blow people out of the water with your competence. Apparently, me in my fishnets and red boots was the best darn girl at the "shooting range", hitting my shooting target (cans and bottles) with 100% accuracy. In fact, I was a better shot than most of the cowboys! Competing with a girl wearing fishnets probably frazzled them :-). I bet I could have beaten them on the mechanical bull, too. But I couldn't do the bull riding contest because as it turned out I ain't a "bad" enough girl to want people to see my bloomers or what's under my bloomers. Ah-ah. My dear husband, who I swear would look great as Zorro if he will only let me dress him up (He most adamantly refuses. Killjoy!), had obviously bought all the tickets to the private viewing. Hee-haw!

So what do you do to spice up your life? (Before you answer remember this is a family friendly blog :-) and I'm only a pretend-"bad" girl).

First Furlough Friday

2009-02-06T20:08:00.000-08:00

For those of you who don't live in California, let me get you up to speed: CALIFORNIA IS A MESS! SERIOUSLY!

The state is facing a 40 billion dollar deficit so Arnold the governator imposed a mandatory day-off without pay 2x a month on state employees to save money and help us out of this fiscal crisis. Of course, the state employees union wigged out (surprise!) and sued, and so on and so forth, but a judge ruled that the governator is within his authority, and the furlough was imposed. Friday, the 6th, was the first Furlough Friday, and many state employees were locked out of their offices.

As much as I am sad for those who got locked out of their jobs (they have families to support after all), I thought about thanking the governator for Friday's rare pleasure of an easy commute brought by a historic government shut-down. I work in downtown Sacramento right next to government buildings and a couple of blocks from the state capitol so it was surreal for me to see the impact of the furlough. It usually takes me a long time to extract myself from traffic jams and get myself to work on time. Not today. As I drove to work, sad thoughts of the furlough's collateral damage like the downtown coffee shops who found themselves without government workers to buy their doughnuts where tempered by the pleasure of my unusually smooth commute. I was pleased in a guilty sort of way.

I had my car radio turned on to a news station during my commute and heard some of the residual fire storm that this furlough business created. Like I said the union was all bent out of shape about this move by Arnold. A woman called the radio station and complained about how she and her husband, both state employees, lost $800 on Furlough Friday. Although I want to be sympathetic to government workers because nobody wants a cut in pay, I about drove my car off the road when I heard this. Are you frickin' kiddding me? Did you just say you and your husband make $800 a day? Woman, if you are not stupid I would hope you saved up some of that fat paycheck for a rainy day. Does anybody need $800 a day to survive? Shouldn't you be grateful you are being furloughed instead of being laid off? Seriously! It would have been better for the government workers union's case if they had the workers making minimum wage calling-in to complain about the furlough on the radio shows. Oh, wait---does anybody who works for the state make minimum wage anymore? No wonder there was very little sympathy expressed for government workers. Caller after caller and person after person I talked to today had this to say to government workers: SUCK IT UP!

Through all this back and forth tug of war between the governor and the state employees, I honestly tried hard to be populist and sympathize with the "common man", who chose a government job and to become a noble civil servant. But to be honest, I personally had to dig down deep into my soul for that sympathy. Using the word noble in the same sentence as a unionized government employee kind of makes me flinch.

You see, unfortunately for all the hundreds of hard-working, and honest government workers out there, there is one bad-apple who spoils the bunch. Like my acquaintance, Kendra (name changed), a clerk in one of those government offices. Kendra likes to brag about how much luckier she is than me and the rest of her former lunch crowd because she landed a state job. She enjoys paid holidays galore, while we are stuck in the corporate world with just 7 paid holidays. And while we often work through and skip our legislated 10-minute breaks to get things done around the office, Kendra and her government co-workers MUST take their 10 minute breaks. Union rules. Never mind that they were not really working before their breaks. She says she finds herself often times without any work to do because they are NOT allowed to assist others with their tasks like we would in the business world, when they finish theirs early. Supposedly another state employee union rule. So in order to pass time until a union-sanctioned task comes across their desk , Kendra and her other clerk-friends bring curling irons and manicure kits to work and play beauty shop. I kid you not! She honestly bragged about this.

The fact that my taxes are paying for her paycheck for doing nothing seem to be lost on Clueless Kendra and her cohorts. Would a sensible corporate person brag to a stockholder how wonderful it is to do nothing while collecting a paycheck? I don't think so. But Kendra not only brags about not having to do much work at work but how her government clerk's paycheck allows her to afford a "His and Her Harley" motorcycles for her and her sweetie.

Fortunately, Kendra didn't come to lunch with us today to complain about being furloughed and not being able to now afford the payment for the His-and-Her-Harleys. I would have punched her. Seriously!

In fairness to government workers, many of them actually expressed gratitude over being furloughed rather than being laid off. But to those who vocally complained let me say, there is an economic crisis out there, okay? It may not be our fault, but we are all in it. So all of us have to contribute and share in the pain to help our country, our state, our companies get back on their feet. My colleagues and I were recently told we will no longer be bonused this year. For me that is over $10,000 in lost income. Am I complaining? No. There are over 600,000 people across the country who lost their job last month, so losing my bonus is nothing. And if you are one of those complaining about being furloughed twice a month, I'm sorry but I have no sympathy.

Having said all that, I am not a big fan of Arnold and the state legislature either. They all need to be tied to a pole next to an anthill. They got us into this mess after all. Why are they not furloughed? I think their paychecks should all be frozen until they fix California. If we the working class have to suck it up and do our parts, then the private jet class should also take some of the pain.

Let's find creative solutions other than let's squeeze the last drop of blood from the middle class. We should for instance maybe have those Hollywood ga-zillionaires pay into some fund to help us out. They won't mind. They are liberals and socialists by principle after all. If they are capable of raising ga-zillion dollars to help some disease-infested corner of the globe far away, they can come up with ga-zillion dollars to pay for California's debt. Maybe George Clooney can volunteer to entirely fund California's Sexually Transmitted Disease Education program. Tom Hanks, meanwhile, can cover the expense of buying the supply of condoms for distribution by Planned Parenthood clinics. Brangelina can also donate what would be the cost of fashionably adopting and raising another kid from an exotic country to adulthood, to fully fund the education of children of illegal immigrants instead. If all the Hollywood stars pitch in, I bet they'll cover all the liberal pork in the state and national economic stimulus plans, and our taxes can go to what will really create jobs and jumpstart the economy. Then the poor government workers and their union won't need to be furloughed anymore. Cool beans!

Pardon Me For Bragging, But...

2009-02-02T00:01:00.000-08:00

All parents --- the normal, real ones, not the freakily modest ones---like to brag about their kids, right? A lot of parents especially the younger ones (those who have not been through the horror of having their sweet, adorably perfect children snatched by aliens and replaced by moody teen-agers) can even get really delusional and think that their kids are one of a kind wonders. "My baby can sing and dance at 2 months old! She's going to be the next Beyonce'!", "Little junior can count to 100 and he's not even teething yet! He is a little Einstein!" Pttthhh!!! Don't you just want to smack some of these parents? BUT... even delusional parental pride is a natural thing. Really. I read somewhere that it's in our genetic programming. The natural parent instinctively considers his/her kids an extension of his/her genetic existence, a link to immortality. He/She tends to think, subconciously I suppose, "If my kids are great it MUST be because I have the 'greatness' genes. THEREFORE, I'm awesome and deserve the space I occupy." Or something like that. And they eagerly search for "greatness" in their child and brag about it because when others somehow recognize that "greatness", isn't that in effect a validation of the genetic source?

Well. So. I had my genetic "greatness" validated recently. And since I'm so, oh, normal and natural, I'm bragging. Is that okay?

About a year ago when my daughter and I proofed her senior portraits at the photography studio, the manager told me my daughter's pictures turned out so cute they want to enlarge one into a life size image and hang it among the other large poster size photos in their lobby. Could I please sign a release form allowing them to use my daughter's image in their marketing campaigns? And I'm like, yah, yah, yah, you're just working the proud-mom angle on me so I'd be inclined to order the most expensive senior portrait package for my daughter. You think you're talking to a rookie parent here, people? But, what the heck. I signed the release anyway, because deep down the ego is mightier than the brain. And just maybe it's true that I passed on some "cute and photogenic"-genes. Uh-huh.

Well, nothing happened for a while but this winter, when it was time for this year's senior class to get their senior portraits taken, guess what was in mail boxes all over town? And guess who's on it? Yes, that's the picture of my girl in the white shirt, in the middle of all the photos of the other girls from the other high schools in the valley selected for the mailing ad.

And this is the picture they selected for the life-size portrait in their studio. Yup, yup, yup! That's my girl. Can I say without making anyone gag and puke at my lack of humility that she is a beauty?

Hurray for me! I'm a beauty gene-carrier! :-) Okay, please stop gagging... because I'm not done bragging.

A couple weeks ago, she came home from shopping and told me excitedly that she's been asked to be a store model. She said she went shopping in a vintage clothes shop, and the manager approached and asked if she is interested in wearing their clothes and pose for their on-line store. She doesn't get paid bucks but she'll get store credit for clothes. She is so excited! She likes going to this store. I am excited, too. But not about the free clothes. I just never expected anyone to ask my girl to model because unfortunately she is a shorty-pants like her Mommy (Dad is 6'1"--- but she didn't take after him a bit). I try to tell her and myself that "Great things come in small packages", which is what short people tell themselves to make themselves feel better. But let's get real. Being short is very limiting. So when someone overlooks my daughter's shorty-pantness, because she has the look, that makes me feel less guilty about passing on the short genes to her, because that means I passed on other things to compensate, right?

Okay. I'm insane. And totally lacking in humility. But that also means I'm not a freak, like all these modest people, because I followed nature's programming to celebrate my descendants and my DNA imprint on posterity.

Oh, okay. I know what the scriptures say about the natural man (that he's baaaaad!!!!!) so I'm off to repent now. But, boy, it sure felt good to brag for a few minutes about what a great DNA cocktail I carry around. Can you forgive me for turning into one of these parents you want to slap?

Um, before I forget to give credit where credit is due and get myself in trouble, Daddy and grandparents contributed to daughter's genetic wonderfulness, too :-) But she was baked in my womb, so I'm just saying...

Okay, gag time is over. I'm done bragging for now :-)

Alan's Blog

2009-01-29T00:07:00.000-08:00

I haven't been able to do any kind of blogging or blog-surfing lately. See my little explanation above. But if you happen to be stopping by for some reason, please check-out my husband's blog. He started his blog on his work's website, and the man who used to tease me for being "addicted" to blogs got bitten by the bug himself. Maybe because he had over 200 views in less than 24 hours? Ha! Now he knows the party rocks :-) Well, if I may say so myself, he had so many hits because he is grrrreat!!! Really. Check it out. He writes about more substantial and relevant things, and he is smart and he can be funny as well so his is a better blog to visit than mine. You do still need to come visit me and hang with me again here in my humble corner of Blogland because as soon as I get things squared away at the office, I'm going to come back to the party!

But for now please check out ALAN'S BLOG.

He is not asking me to plug his blog here. He doesn't need me to. He gets more hits in one day than my blog gets in a week :-) but I want people who know me to see what an awesome guy I married :-) that's why I'm giving away his link.

This Little Piggy ...

2009-01-09T18:30:00.000-08:00

WARNING! If you are a vegetarian or a vegan or if you think pigs are adorable precocious pets like Babe or Wilbur you might want to exit my blog right NOW! Some people may get really freaked-out/grossed out/"scandalized" by the photos I am posting below.

I know the holidays are over, but I just want to share one special thing that happened to me. For the first time in over 20 years (!) I had lechon on Christmas Eve.

What is "lechon" you ask?

Lechon literally means a young little piggy. But if you are thinking this little piggy:

Then you are going to cry all the way home (Waaaaaaahhh!). Because this little piggy after being "lechoned" actually looks more like this little piggy:

And it is yum-dee-dee-dum-dee-li-cious!!!!

The best Filipino lechon-makers stuff the piggies with a combination of spices and seasonings and cook them over hot coals in an open pit for hours, and all the spices and seasoning get absorbed into the juicy meat. I have not tasted anything American, Italian, French or Mexican to compare it with so I can't describe it. And, no, it doesn't really taste like luau pig.

Here's part of that little piggy on my dining table on Christmas Eve. See how happy my Filipino sister looks! And in the background can you see how freaked out my American children look?!!

I felt bad for my kids but it kind of cracked me up to see their "horror-stricken" faces and their disgust for their "barbaric" family :-)

As I've mentioned, I haven't had lechon for Christmas Eve dinner in over 20 years. I basically stuck to an all-American tradition for the holidays when it comes to food because it's just easier all around. But last year my brothers and sisters and my mother all moved to California, and they were a little unimpressed with my holiday preparation. You see, in the part of the Philippines where we were raised a celebration is NO celebration if you don't fork out the bucks for lechon(s). This can get really expensive for a typical Filipino family, but when they're able to afford it lechon is part of a Filipino's Christmas fiesta. Sometimes some unwise families even borrow money and spend a whole year's paycheck to have lechon for their celebration. Where I grew up if you are a bride or debutante without lechon then your family must be so poe they can't even get lechon on credit. It's a questionable mind-set, and maybe it has changed after all these years but I don't know. My point is simply that lechon is a big deal.

Anyway---in the U.S. I guess my husband and I are sorta poe :-) still that's not really the reason I didn't have lechon at my wedding, or at any of our Christmas dinners ever. Aside from the fact that 99% of our family, friends and associations are Americans, my husband and kids are just such picky eaters I didn't bother with feeding them the more exotic Filipino food. Well---okay, the truth is I don't know how to cook Filipino food, but shhhush---I'd rather they think I'm a martyr who sacrificed my cultural identity to keep them happy.

Then as I said last year almost all of my side of the family moved to California . And guess what? They all know how to cook Filipino food! (I've gained like 5 pounds since they arrived). So this year everyone voted to have a Filipino-style Christmas Eve dinner and have a complete Filipino fiesta at my house! That means lechon! So we all pitched in which made it more affordable. So, Yay! Joy to the world! Well, except of course, for the born-in-America members of the family :-).

BUT don't feel too bad for my husband and kids. I made sure there was American style ham and potatoes for them next to the lechon, duck, lumpia (egg rolls) and pancit (noodles):-) Then on Christmas Day I even made what traditionally is our little family's Christmas Eve dinner: slow-cooked standing rib roast, baked red potatoes drizzled with spices and butter, lots of gravy, veggies and apple pie. Hence, I managed to keep everyone happy! Hurrah for me, I think...

Unfortunately, I also managed to run myself ragged from all that juggling of 2 cultures and cooking. I am exhausted until now. So for days since Christmas day I've been in my Betty Boop jammies and over-sized U of U sweatshirt, flopped in front of the TV in the family room! And for days when somebody would say they're hungry, I would just grunt and point them to the kitchen and say, "Left-overs!" When they complained, "But Mom, I'm sick of them!", I said: "Then heat yourself up some frozen dinner, you almost-grown-up-teenagers, and stop bugging me!"

I'm such a bad mommy!

It's been days into the new year, and the left overs have all since been thrown away, but I don't think I'm fully recovered from the holidays. Are you?

The Grinch and My Cup of Hot Chocolate

2009-01-02T00:01:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year, y'all!!! Can I just say I am optimistic about 2009? Yes, I am especially after my bruising holiday encounter with The Grinch. He is mean and nasty but I managed to beat him down and I won the match! (Insert sound track from Rocky here while I run up some gynormous steps with my arms triumphantly above my head!) However, for a very unpleasant period of time he threatened my world and was very naughty. He dropped by my workplace, took away valued possessions and positions, and messed with people's lives.

"You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch. You really are a heel. You're as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch!"

I tried to ignore him here on my blog but he actually started wrecking havoc back when I was on my Thanksgiving holiday vacation. Although I was supposed to be enjoying my week off, my boss called to tell me to check my e-mail for THE memo, which said our office has been restructured out of existence!

"You're a monster, Mr. Grinch. Your heart's an empty hole. Your brain is full of spiders, you've got garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch."

Can you believe it? Our entire office was effectively erased. And it was announced via a cold, formal e-mail! Nobody even bothered to show their face in person to talk to us. Nobody was available or knew much of anything other than what's on the memo to answer questions. Just a quick FYI to let us all know we're up a creek without a paddle. How rude!

"You're a foul one, Mr. Grinch.You're a nasty, wasty skunk. Your heart is full of unwashed socks, your soul is full of gunk, Mr. Grinch."

From what we've gathered from all the vagueness, my boss will be out of a job, and the rest of the team will be interviewed for positions in other offices for the transition at the beginning of the year, but NO GUARANTEES. All we could say after we were able to actually say anything was, Wow! And you're doing this just before Christmas because ---why?

"You're a rotter, Mr. Grinch.You're the king of sinful sots. Your heart's a dead tomato splot with moldy purple spots, Mr. Grinch!"

BUT for some reason, somehow, the awful Grinch couldn't get his stinky rotten paws on me! One of the bosses had always wanted me assigned exclusively to his team and he made it happen, and that was on the memo. So I felt panicked just for a total of 2 seconds until I got to read that part of the memo. I felt more relieved when I got called into the boss' office a few days later and was officially told that I still have a job. Same pay, same duties, different assignment. So in spite of the stupid Grinch, Christmas came just the same for me and my family...

And yet I still feel sick to my core. I cannot help the sadness I feel for those who were not as lucky as I. Lucky, yes, that's the word I choose, not blessed, because one can be unlucky and still be blessed. I know I am blessed and this time also lucky that the Grinch did not get his stinky, yucky hands on me for now. Still it is not so easy to be grateful when you are surrounded by doom and gloom, uncertainty and insecurity. What a way to meet the New Year, right?

"You nauseate me, Mr. Grinch. With a nauseous super-naus. You're a crooked jerky jockey and you drive a crooked horse. Mr. Grinch."

Then a friend e-mailed me a story, which kept things in perspective. Let me share it with you:

THE WISDOM OF HOT CHOCOLATE

A group of graduates, well established in their careers, were discussing their lives at a class reunion. They decided to go visit their old university professor, now retired, who was always an inspiration to them.

During their visit, the conversation turned to complaints about stress in their work, lives and relationships. Offering his guests hot chocolate, the professor went into the kitchen and returned with a large pot of hot chocolate and an assortment of cups. Some cups were porcelain, glass, crystal, some plain looking, some expensive, some exquisite. He invited each to help them selves to the hot chocolate.

When they all had a cup of hot chocolate in hand, the professor shared his thoughts. “Notice that all the nice looking, expensive cups were taken, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones.

“While it is normal for you to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and stress.”

“The cup that you are drinking from adds nothing to the quality of the hot chocolate. In most cases it is just more expensive and in some cases even hides what we drink.”

“What each of you really wanted was hot chocolate. You did not want the cup . . . but you consciously went for the best cups. And soon, you began to eye one another’s cups.”

“Now friends, please consider this . . . Life is the hot chocolate . . . your job, money and position in society are the cups. They are just tools to hold and contain life. The cup you have does not define, nor does it change, the quality of life you are living.”

“Sometimes, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the hot chocolate God has provided us.”

"Always remember this . . . God brews the hot chocolate, He does not choose the cup.”

After I read the story my friend e-mailed me I decided that although there is always a chance as the economic upheaval continues that the Grinch may still come back to steal or break my cup, it will not end my world. No matter what, I can still choose to enjoy my hot chocolate. So-- In your face, Mr. Grinch!

May we all choose our cups wisely, and no matter what trials we have been handed
may we find joy in our hot chocolate.

Wishing all a Happy New Year!

P.S. The story gave me a great idea of what to give my co-workers, and even the sisters I visit teach for Christmas. Here's what I gave them. I printed the story on a card and inserted it in the cup with the cocoa mix bag :-)

From Our Family To Yours...

2008-12-21T21:41:00.000-08:00

I just wanted to do a quick post to say that I hope that family members and friends (in regular world and in blog-world) had a very merry Christmas, and may everyone have a truly blessed 2009!

I also want to apologize for my unexplained absence from Blogland, and failing to "visit" my blog friends for a long while now. Several reasons: (1) I am on our ward (church) activities committee, and you know what that meant this Christmas party season, (2)my company managers' party, (3)my regional office party in San Francisco, which obviously required me to travel, (4)my husband's company party, (5)MY FULL TIME JOB :-) ---Can you believe they expect us to still work everyday? Don't they know we're too busy with celebrating :-)? Shesh! I did take Christmas week off but life was still hectic with (6) prepping for my side of the family's Christmas Eve party which I hosted, (7)Christmas shopping, (8)Christmas gift wrapping and other "errands", (9) Wrestling with the company Grinch :-) I'll explain more in a later post, and (10)etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

So basically, my life was just an overwhelming whirl of work, errands, parties and obligations. I tried but there was nowhere to insert a lot of things that I personally enjoy like blogging into my day...which is the big downside of this season, but I'm not complaining because we all experienced the same thing I'm sure. Or maybe I'm just not as organized as a lot of other women :-( ...that's probably the real reason ...

Anyway --- I really hope everyone had a great Christmas. My family truly had a blessed Christmas. My heart is honestly just joyful... I hope everyone feels the same way.

From Our Family To Yours,

May the New Year usher in a season of peace and prosperity!

They Looked Up and Saw A Star

2008-12-08T00:01:00.001-08:00

One of my fondest memories of Christmas as a little girl in the Philippines is watching and helping my father make a "parol". A "parol" is the traditional star lantern Filipinos hang all over their homes during Christmas season. It is an iconic and beloved symbol of the season throughout the Philippines. For those who have never seen a Filipino Christmas lantern, here's a photo of a traditional parol vendor and his parols I lifted off Wikipedia:

The parol symbolizes the Star of Bethlehem that guided the wise men to the Christ child. Christmas just wasn't complete without a parol in our home. We would hang store-bought or school-project parols outside our windows, but save the best one, the one my Papa made, for the spot near the front door so everyone who visits us or walks by our house will see it and admire it.

During the night I used to stare at the parol and the blinking Christmas lights for a long time looking forward to Christmas Eve and the festivities. Filipinos treat this night like a big fiesta, with food laden tables and merry making. It was one of the few times in the year when my siblings and I were allowed to stay up past regular bedtime. We would play games with our cousins and friends under the street lamps and the blinking parols. It was such a simple, care-free but exciting time in my life, being a kid at Christmas time in the Philippines.

Now a days, parols have become rather intricate works of art with techno light displays and capiz shells, instead of the cheap cellophane and Japanese paper and simple blinky lights my Papa used for his parol. Here's a photo of a modern parol I found on the web:

Isn't that gorgeous? And here's another one. It just takes my breath away. It floods me with such memories of Christmas time as a child to look at these things.

I love Christmas lanterns and what they represent to me, so much so that years ago I decided to continue the tradition of hanging a parol in my own home here in the United States. Alas, my Dad had long passed away and as often as I watched and even helped him make parols, I didn't really get the parol-making skills. For years I looked for a parol to buy. Most Filipino stores sell the capiz shell lanterns which are beautiful, but I wanted one that looked like what my Papa used to make. So when my Mama who was then living in Chicago told me of a Filipino acquaintance who made traditional Christmas parols just like Papa's, I begged her to get one for me and had it shipped to California. The material one uses for making parols are very inexpensive, but the time and the delicate work that goes into it make it rather costly, but for me very much worth it.

Here's my parol hanging above our doorway. It came with a detachable "ray/comet tail" but I've never attached it because it gets in the way of opening and closing the door. For over 10 years now, this parol has hang in my home every Christmas time.

Some nights when the house has quieted down, I sit on the steps and still feel like a little girl as I stare at my parol and think of my Christmas past and feel grateful for the joys of Christmas present and future. But sometimes I also think of how the wise men must have felt when they looked up to the night sky and saw the star and knew that where it leads them is eternal light. Then something inexplicable stirs inside me and I get kinda weepy. I guess, I'm just weird and sappy that way when my heart feels like it would burst with joy...

O Star of wonder, star of night
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding
Guide us to Thy perfect light

What Christmas symbols hold a lot of meaning for you and why?

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

2008-11-27T17:48:00.001-08:00

We hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving Day! My family did.

I will still be on blog-cation for another week or so. I can't say I'm not having withdrawal pains :-), but although I miss visiting everyone's blog, I have had a real pleasant and productive time away from Blogland. The break has been good for me, but I will "see" you all soon!

THANKSGIVING HOLIDAY

2008-11-22T00:01:00.000-08:00

Thank you for dropping by. I am on blog-cation and will not be posting for a week or so. I hope you will come back to visit when I return to "regular programming" :-) I appreciate all of you and am grateful I have you in my life.

Have a great THANKSGIVING HOLIDAY y'all!

"Freedom From Want" by Norman Rockwell

I Hope Those DMV Folks Know What They're Doing

2008-11-19T00:01:00.000-08:00

Hear ye! Hear ye!

The Department of Motor Vehicles of the Great State of California has deemed His Majesty (my son) qualified to operate a motor vehicle and has issued him a driver's license on Monday, the 17th of November 2008 A.D.

Hurray!!!! Or is it, "Oh, no!!!!!"?

Regardless, watch out when you're on the road, people. Ready or not here comes His Majesty!

Here he is with his interim license (the real thing arrives in the mail soon). This picture (personal info digitally blotted out) is proof of how excited he is about the new privilege. Keep in mind that His Majesty thinks he's too cool of a dude to show any intense emotion and have his picture taken ever. He treats me like I'm paparazzi and he's a celeb everytime I try to take his picture so the fact that he posed for this one means he is stoked about getting a license and wants to show off!

As for me, the mommy, well ---I am happy. I am sad. I am excited. I am worried. I am all of the above.

On one hand my carpool/chauffeuring days are officially over. No more shuttling guitars, amplifiers, and teen-age boys all over kingdom come on Fridays and/or Saturdays so they can jam with the band or just hang out. No more scheduling our life around his weekend social calendar. Now we can just say, "Why don't you just take Mom's car or Dad's car and drive yourself over to wherever you need to be. " Yay! But on the other hand there are the statistics on teen boys and traffic accidents and the lack of certainty that he is really where he says he is. Before now we knew where he was because we dropped him off there, and we watched him walk up to the door and we saw his friend's parent wave at us as he/she lets our son into the house. Of course, I trust him. He's always been a good boy and has never given us any reason to grieve over his choices, but... stories abound of good teen-age boys from good families doing stupid things once they have a little bit of freedom. From now on, I'll need to rely more on my 3 life-long friends: Faith, Hope and Trust. Faith that heavenly father will watch over my boy, Hope that we've taught him well, and Trust in my boy's inherent ability to choose the right; that he is not just "good" by accident of his birth and circumstance, but he is good to the core when tested absent his parents' guidance.

I didn't know I would feel this mushy about my son getting a driver's license. I have always prided myself in not being a helicopter parent. I tend to trust my kids and want them to be self-reliant. But it seems I haven't felt the need to hover over my kids more than I do now. I see past mistakes and wonder if they could have been avoided if only I were a better parent, if only I hovered and "interfered" more. Perhaps my son reaching this milestone represented by a driver's license triggered that melancholic feeling that comes with knowing my little birdies are testing their wings and are venturing farther from the nest. First to let go of my hand is my daughter, now a self-assured college girl. Pretty soon it will be my baby boy's turn. My chances at getting good at parenting are about to dwindle significantly. In a few years I will be practically irrelevant. I will still be their mom, of course, and always will be. I just won't be making decisions for them anymore, or be there all the time to look out for them. It's a very disconcerting feeling.

Well, I'll snap out of this funk soon enough. It's only a driver's license, right? I still have a few years to get used to all this. I might even relish the thought of an empty nest. In fact, my son just asked if he could borrow the car this weekend. Maybe my honey and I will go on a day-long date and enjoy our child-free togetherness. Hey, that sounds pretty good actually...

But before I go just a little reminder that if you're on the road somewhere in Northern California this weekend, please exercise caution. My precious teen-age boy is behind the wheel without his Mommy.

How about you, are YOU a HELICOPTER-parent? Do you tend to hover and actively supervise? Or are you a stand-back but vigilant parent? Which one do you prefer to be?

I Enjoy Being A Girl

2008-11-14T00:01:00.000-08:00

One time not very long ago, while I was sitting around and checking my appearance in the mirror, I said to my husband, "I'm glad I'm a woman." Then I paused and waited for him to ask me why, as a confirmation that I have hit on a very riveting topic, and we should have a conversation. But instead of asking me why I was glad I'm a woman like I expected him to, he smiled that I'm-up-to-no-good smile of his, looked at me with that "Hey, baby, yeah, baby"-look ---ladies, you know what I'm talking about--- and said, "I'm glad you're a woman, too." Wink! Wink!

So SMACK! Right on his arm. "What's that for?" he asked pretending to be bewildered. That is for being a silly goose! I forgot that my incessant talking about nonsense sometimes puts my husband into a coma, and he knows it, and has learned years ago that when I make whacky-sounding declarations, the best route is to acknowledge and agree and not bother to ask why. Ticks me off sometimes. If I remember right, he didn't get very far with his "Hey baby, yeah, baby!" -ing that day. Serves him right for not letting me have the conversation, or rather my monologue on why I'm glad I'm a woman.

So now lucky for you, I'm blogging about it instead :-)

Okay, some of you will probably mistakenly assume I am going to talk about the woman's divine role in the plan of salvation, about how privileged we are to be our husband's helpmeet, and to be mothers of valiant spirits sent in these latter-days. I believe all that, of course, but I'm just not in that mode right now. And I'm not really an authority on the subject of divine womanhood, so to avoid preaching false doctrine I'll leave all that to the experts. I'll be true to myself instead and stick to the silly and shallow, because that's me: silly and shallow.

Um, --- actually truth be told, I can be deeply and painfully profound. Unfortunately, that's the side of me that puts my husband into a "stupor of thought" a.k.a. a coma. The guy married me for my looks not my brains or my profound ideas and sweet spirit, what can I say? :-) Not that I'm that much of a looker, but you know what I mean. Doncha?

(Plus for at least 40 hours a week my bosses pay me to act like I'm smart and know what I'm talking about even when I don't. I think I deserve to drop the pretense when I'm off the clock and enjoy my dumb-down state at home in my jammies. And since I'm usually at home in my jammies when I blog, you can expect a lot of dumb posts from moi'. If you happen to be blog surfing for intellectual enrichment this is probably NOT the place to be. But just for fun would you mind just hanging out with me over here though?)

So anyway. Back to the silly, shallow but still important reasons why I am thankful I am a woman. Some of them are as follows:

#1
I have a monthly excuse for bad behavior. When my husband gets mad and crabby, he has a character flaw. When I am mad and crabby, I am just PMS-ing. None of it is my fault. I am simply a victim of hormonal changes. Never mind that my bad behavior fell on the wrong point of the cycle, it still is a handy excuse to deny any responsibility. Men can play strong and debonair and say "Bond. My name is Bond. James Bond." But a woman can say: "I am PMS-ing and I have a gun. Any questions?" and it almost sounds so criminally dangerous it's empowering. I am woman, hear me roar. Roarrrr!!!!

#2
I have hair. I know women can go bald, too, but there's a reason why it's called male-pattern baldness. How many couples have you seen where the wife is the baldy not the hubby? I mean, really. So even though I say I hate my curly hair, and I complain how I have to get expensive highlights more often now than before because the gray is coming in fast, at least I have hair to fuss about.

#3
I can "caulk and spackle" my face. Of course, you know what I mean. Make-up. I'm glad I can use make up to hide blemishes and enhance my imperfections. Guys on the other hand are just stuck with the faces they're born with. Of course they can wear make-up, too, but have you seen Marilyn Manson? I have to admit even my husband looks kinda funny wearing make-up. He has to wear makeup on the job (he's a TV anchor) so he won't look like a ghost on TV. When the kids were little we lived close enough to the TV station so he'd come home in between newscasts to have dinner with the family. He'd have his TV face on, all caked-on with foundation and the kids would say, "Daddy your face looks like an Oompa-loompa's!" (You know, the little orange-faced people from the old "Charlie and The Chocolate Factory".)

#4
I can use products that make my skin feel and smell better and not have to worry about anyone doubting my sexual orientation. One time I asked my husband if I could put lotion on his face because it was looking dry.

He said, "I don't want stuff on my face."

"Com'on, it will be good for your skin. Let me put it on you," I said as I reached out to put some on him.

"Hey! Stop! That smells girlie! You want people to think I'm gay?"

" Stop being weird! (My friend) Michael swears this lotion works!"

"Honey---"

"Yes?"

"Michael is gay!"

"I know. But that's not the point."

"Leave me and my face alone!"

"Whatever, Dryface-Macho man. Pft!"

#5
I have choices. A woman in most cases can choose to be a SAHM (stay at home Mom) or work outside the home, regardless of what society or religion say she should choose. Men don't really have that choice. If they want a wife and family then it follows that they should work to provide. It's not just a religious or social expectation. It's a deeply imprinted natural and evolutionary instinct for them to be the hunter and gatherer and to take care of the folks back in the cave.

#6
I have a more interesting wardrobe. Some men maybe metrosexual, and obsess about their clothes. But most men I know are stick-to-the-basics type. Shirt and tie to church, shirt and tie to work, shirt and tie to dinner parties, maybe throw in a sweater and a vest here and there, and some jeans and t-shirts for the weekend. Some men spice things up with some ugly and/or goofy ties. But for the most part men's fashion is B.O.R.I.N.G. A woman on the other hand has the fashion world's encouragement to be as imaginative as her (or her husband's) wallet allows.

#7
I have a more interesting shape. I think it's fascinating that men are shaped so straightforward and plain. Created with bold brush strokes by a no non-sense maestro. A woman is more like the end result of frilly flourishes, put together with painstaking attention to detail. (Oh, hey! Am I starting to sound like I'm bordering on profound?) Definitely, a woman's body shape is a lot more intriguing than a man's, even when it's out of shape.

#8
I like that I don't have to do all that sweaty man stuff. On chores day (usually Saturdays) my husband gets all drippy-sweaty mowing the lawn, weeding our hillside, treating the hot tub, lifting things around in the garage, etc. Sometimes he comes into the house all glisteny and drippy to ask me for a hug. Ew! He likes to bug me that way. And he also likes to make sure I know he is a good husband and works hard around the house. Proof: sweat. But I work just as hard, and even longer: scrubbing 3 bathrooms, doing loads of laundry, dusting and vacuuming, etc., and not break into a sweat. I like that, because SWEAT = ICK. The only time I don't think it's icky is when I sweat on purpose like when I work out. I do that when I don't blog, watch TV, read a book or play with Photoshop on my PC which happens about--oh, every 5 months or never.

#9
I like that my man likes that I'm a woman. Ironic that he got in trouble for saying he's glad I'm a woman, too, right? But it honestly tickles me that my femaleness makes my husband adore me. It's like a witch's spell or something. When we were dating, he was like a puppy dog who wanted to be everywhere I went. Funny how I was never PMS-ing when we were dating. I hid that condition very well until he was reeled in, hook, line and sinker. Even now that we've been married, and he's been a victim of PMS, for over 20 years he seems to still really genuinely love my company. The "Hey, baby, yeah, baby" look he gives me is actually very validating to my woman-ess.

#10
I like that women are not emotionally limited and stunted by expectations of machismo. That's why therapists tell men to work on being in touch with their feminine side to be a better man. Isn't that amazing? How come I don't have to be in touch with my masculine side to be a better female? That's a good thing because, gosh, I would not be good at burping and scratching my crotch and yelling at the TV during sports telecasts even if I try (Chill, honey. The coach can't hear you!). I'd rather enjoy musicals and cry at sad movies, and be in touch with my emotions. It is a much healthier state to be.

And talking of musicals...here's my favorite clip from the old fashioned movie musical, "The Flower Drum Song." I took my daughter to see the Broadway play years ago. I should have shown this first before rambling on because, well, it succinctly enumerates the silly, shallow but still important reasons why I enjoy being a girl :-) So com'on and watch it! You might just get to know me better :-)

Okay, so here's my question:

What about being a GIRL/WoMan do you like and really appreciate?

Thank You For Serving

2008-11-11T22:39:00.000-08:00

GRATITUDE CONTINUED...

2008-11-10T00:01:00.000-08:00

I have tried my darndest to focus on gratitude this month. Tried to be thankful. Even when I'd rather whine. And I think I've been doing good if I may say so myself. So even though this is really hard for me to say at this very minute, I'm going to say I am thankful for my job.

Ouch! I think I pulled some positive attitude muscles straining to say that today. Deep down I'm not feeling all that great about my job right now. I had to work this weekend. That is after I already put in a 60-hour work week, Monday to Friday. Since I'm a salaried employee I don't get paid anything extra for putting in extra hours. I get nothing. Nada. Except for being considered a valuable employee. Okay, I guess, that's a good thing nowadays when the economy keeps going south and people are losing jobs which breaks my heart. So even though I miss my family this weekend, and my house is a mess, and I was not able to blog surf much :-) I am thankful for my job. But let me just insert a little whining here ... I had to work this weekend because some people had mashed potatoes inside their skulls instead of brains, and so some of us had to re-do what should have been done right in the first place. And apparently I need to exercise some forgiveness muscles, too, because I'm not sounding very merciful and forgiving, am I?

Okay. I'm done whining. Let's look at some silver lining.

I am thankful for friends who must have known I needed cheering up while I'm sitting in an empty office working while the people who made the mess that I'm fixing are off enjoying their weekend. They know well enough to know that even though outwardly I try to be Miss Goody-Goody, in the dark caverns of my mind there is a stinker with a twisted sense of humor, so they send me sick e-mails like this:

A WEDDING INVITATION

ACCOMPANIED BY A PHOTO LIKE THIS:

Holy frickin' smokes! With all due respect to the real people in this photo (I decided to blot out their faces ...because I feel a little guilty posting this, BUT as I said this was e-mailed to me and ...), let me say, that when I opened the e-mail and saw this I didn't know whether to laugh my head off or throw up! Yes, yes, I heard the saying "If you have it, flaunt it" But it sure felt like I was slapped right in between my eyes, smacked on the nose with bean bags from all this woman's flaunting. Sheeesh!

Okay, then. Moving on to something nicer...much, much nicer...

I am thankful for blog pals like Kami who writes at A View Through Many Lenses. Check her out. She's a real pretty and classy lady (Kami, so sorry you had to be in the same post as the boobie-girl!) Kami sent me the yummiest Halloween cookies a week or so ago. This is how her cookies looked before they got appreciatively devoured.

Another wonderful lady I met through blogging also recently gave me something to be treasured. The Mama Hood's blog is a class act. The beauty of the blogger unfailingly shines through her posts. She gave me this award:

Mama Hood, as I said to Kami, so sorry I posted this "thank you" same time as the boobie-girl photo. It kind of just worked out that way. It doesn't take away from how much I appreciate this and that I think highly of you.

Here's the meaning of the award from Mama Hood's page: “This blog invests and believes, in ‘proximity’[meaning, that blogging makes us 'close' - being close through proxy]"They are all charming blogs, and the majority of them aim to show the marvels of friendship; there are persons who are not interested when we give them a prize, and then they help to cut these bows; do we want that they are cut, or that they propagate?"Then let’s try to give more attention to them!"

As the recipient of this award, I must select at least 8 bloggers whose blog content and design are worthy of the Blog Academy Award. Once I make my selection, I must visit their blogs and leave a comment to notify them that they have been awarded the Blog Academy Award.

Ladies, I'll make this fair and simple. I follow 49 of you (outside of family blogs), which means there are 49 of you who inspire me, make me laugh, make me cry and makes a difference in my life...I would NOT invest time if you didn't mean that much to me. The rule says AT LEAST 8. It doesn't have a maximum! So to all of you I pass this award. If you check your followers list and I'm one of them, then I'm a fan, I am grateful that I had the opportunity to "meet" you and to you I pass this award (Please don't let me visit 49 blogs today! I'm still recuperating from my weekend and the bruise on my nose inflicted by the boobie-girl. So just grab the award pleeez!)

Okay, here's my discussion piece for this post: What are some of the things you're presently dealing with that you have to work hard at appreciating and feeling gratitude for?

It May Not Be Zion But It Sure Is Paradise

2008-11-07T00:01:00.000-08:00

I AM THANKFUL I LIVE IN NORTHERN CALIFORNIA...

Now and again I miss Utah. I'm partial to Utah because I lived there for about 10 years and just about everybody that I love and care about are Utah residents. So I miss a lot of people there. So much that sometimes after 15 years since we left I think maybe we should move back. My husband's young adult niece once "ranted" on her blog about being tired of the misconceptions non-Utahns have of Utah Mormons and getting tired of living in Las Vegas. She said this: "I love the clean Utah air which is not swimming in smoke, the friendly people that you can feel you can trust, the safe feeling when you walk out the door that you didn't have to worry about unintelligible expletives escaping 90 percent of the people you are surrounded by. "

Of course, there are many safe, clean-air, rated PG communities outside of Utah, but let's cut her some slack and take into account that she lives in Las Vegas, Nevada. A Utah Mormon girl transplanted to Las Vegas...insert the sound of me sucking air through clinched teeth here... Talk about culture-shock. I totally sympathize with her. Las Vegas aside there are so many things about living in Utah, the proverbial Zion of zions, that I myself deeply miss, HOWEVER ...

When I go to KSL's website and see these photos of the place I'm missing I can't help but re-think my longing for that Zion thing. Here's somebody's Utah backyard a couple of weeks ago:

Pretty to look at, huh? All winter wonderlandy. But here's my not-so winter wonderlandy "memory" of Utah winters (photo also from KSL's website):

This reminds me of what once happened to me and my car when we lived in Bountiful, UT a million years ago. I was not in as bad of a car wreck because nobody ended up in the hospital, but you get the idea of why snowy winter is my LEAST favorite ever. It explains why looking at even a picturesque snowy landscape just doesn't give me the warm and fuzzies.

It's now fall and soon to be winter in Nor Cal, too. And to be sure there are lots of dreary, rainy days ahead of us. But a couple of weeks ago while it might have been snowing in Zion this is what I was doing:

Sitting on the beach in 68 degree weather writing/sketching while my husband explored farther down the beach and took pictures like these:

The view to the left :-)

The view to the right :-)

I took my own pictures, too. Here's my self portrait. This is Me relaxing and soaking in God's impressive creation :-)

And this is my husband doing his own own contemplating:

You know what's the best part? We did NOT have to go on vacation to enjoy all these. All it was was a Saturday when no one felt like doing chores and running errands, so into the car and off to the coast we went for the day.

I don't really mean to brag. Okay, I lie. Just a little. But I also just really want to say this to our loving and concerned Utah family and friends: Don't feel bad for us that we don't live in Zion under the protective shadow of the Wasatch mountains. It really ain't too bad over here in paradise. With sunsets like this we can handle the occasional homesickness and the possibility that our kids might grow up to be "weird" Californians (I think they already are).

Here are more photos from our day at the coast. I hope they make you want to visit Nor Cal, and when you do please drop by to see us.

How about you? What are the things you enjoy about your neck of the woods?

A NEW CHAPTER

2008-11-05T07:44:00.000-08:00

GOD BLESS AMERICA.

Whether we voted for him or not he is now our president. Let's not forget the "united" in the Unites States of America... Somebody (I don't remember who---it was a talking head on TV) said : We are NOT democrats or republicans. We are Americans. I agree.

Election 2008

2008-11-04T00:01:00.000-08:00

I am thankful that I live in America and that I have a voice and the right to vote...

And I am thankful for a husband who is not only smart but also wise...

One time during the presidential primaries, I wrote about who I'd pick for Prez. It was just me expressing my opinion out of the delusion that my political opinion mattered. Then my husband, the sweet tactful guy that he is, said that he's really glad I discovered blogging this year and found something I enjoy, but if I could I should just stay away from being political and controversial on my blog. Maybe it has something to do with him being a broadcast journalist in a small town and the neccessity to come across unbiased and fair to his viewers. Hard to do when the wife is on a soap box with a horn announcing her political opinion. I guess he becomes guilty by association. So as a supportive wife (and as a matter of survival--- I want my husband to stay employed), I've stayed clear of politics on my blog.

But on the day of a big national election it is unbearable not to participate in political discussions. I'm feeling slightly supressed. The political animal in me needs to come out and play. So play I did. With my new digital scrapbooking program. And here's my choice for Prez! :-)

An old friend of mine once said of my then new husband: "He's never going to be rich. He is too honest and scrupulous." That friend is now a multi-millionaire. My husband on the other hand, well, true to my friend's prediction, not rich at all. But if my husband was running against Obama and McCain, he would get my vote. He is the most trust worthy person I know. He is the definition of "guile-less". My life would have been a lot easier if I had a materially rich husband, but an honest man is a rare gem, and I'm married to one. Politicians can learn from Alan. Too bad he is not the one running for office :-)

Nevertheless, despite our imperfect political sytem and imperfect politicians, democracy ROCKS !!!! I am thankful that I am an American and I can vote and I can choose who I want for President...May the BEST man for this country win.

In your opinion, what is the most important character trait a President should have to be an effective leader?

I Am Thankful For My Way Life

2008-11-01T17:35:00.000-07:00

My sister-in-law Margie forwarded this e-mail to me this week. It is too good not to share...

"Sometimes we all need a gentle reminder not to get caught up in the drama of our lives.

If you think you are having a hard time then just look at them...

If you think your salary is low, how about her?

If you think you don't have many friends...

When you feel like giving up, think of this man ...

If you think you suffer in life, do you suffer as much as he does?

If you complain about your transport system, how about them? (Although I'm thinking this might be photoshopped? I don't know...)

If your society is unfair to you, how about her?

Enjoy life how it is and as it comes. "

I am thankful for my way of life, for the comforts and conveniences with which I have been abundantly blessed that I often take for granted. I pray I will have a grateful heart always.

HOW ABOUT YOU? What are you thankful for most in life?

YOU'VE BEEN BOO-ED!

2008-10-30T00:04:00.000-07:00

KACI has officially "boo-ed" me!!! BOO BOO BOO! (and it's past midnight and I'm falling asleep on the keyboard so I'm just going to paste and copy what Kaci said on her blog because she's such a cool chick and I know that if write my own thing I'd sound just as cool as her---NOT. So I'm just gonna copy her word for word.)

Now I get to Boo some of my peeps!! This is how the Blogging Boo will go. Go to as many bloggy peeps as you want and tell them they've been B00-ed! Have them link back to your blog to pick up their Halloween Treat (picture) and tell them to Boo their peeps. (Then put the pic in your side bar so everyone knows that you've already been "boo-ed and to send the pic to someone else). Watch your comments to see if you get booed!

I've left BOO comments on some of your blogs, but I'm so sleepy now, I'm dying, so if I missed your blog and you want the BOO, please help yourself :-)

Better Late Than Never On The Shout Outs

2008-10-28T00:01:00.000-07:00

I have some "thank yous" and promised acknowledgements that are way long over due and so I'm finally taking the time to do this quickie post to acknowlege wonderful bloggers who have sent love my way recently.

First the awards:

I want to thank Pam for this one. I was so, so flattered and honored she selected me for this one. She has so many blog friends, and I'm just one of her hanger-ons, so being selected for this is awesome.

Pam writes at McEwens. She is one of those rare kind of people who makes you forget what a rotten day you're having and instead celebrate life and your blessings. She is a giggle therapist, and if you want to know what that is go check her out.

I pass this award on to ALL MY BLOG GAL PALS that are on my "Follow Me" List. So grab the button if you are my blog friend.

This next award is from CJ The Purple Diva:

What can I possibly say about The Diva except that she is one of a kind! She has the coolest blog with the coolest buttons, and she spits out posts like an automatic weapon (hey, did that almost rhyme or what?!). What a fun lady! What you see is what you get with her, and I love it. So check her out HERE.

This award incidentally requires that I post 6 things about me, so here goes:

#1 I don't eat popcorn at the movies. Ever. I prefer mini pretzels or nachos. I hate how popcorn gets caught in the weirdest corners of my mouth and teeth.
#2 A visit to a ball game or a theme park is NOT complete without cotton candy. I have to have cotton candy or it feels like the ball game/theme park is fake.
#3 I cannot sleep without a quilt/comforter even in the summer so we keep the air conditioning going. My husband hates the $400+ monthly energy bill during hot months, but he knows I need my sleep.
#4 I was scripture chase champion during my seminary days. Ha-ha-ha! I know it's hard to tell nowadays that I grew up to be ~~a heathen~~ the quiet, backrow Mormon type. But I'm more than happy to just let everyone else in Sunday School show off what scripture scholars they are.
#5 I have naturally curly hair (thanks to the curly haired Spaniard also known as my Great Grandma). I grew up in the Philippines where most girls have straight hair so I got teased a lot. I hated my hair until the 80's when big poufy permed hair was the rage. Then I was glad I don't have straight hair. Ha! When I moved to Utah my hair went flat. It was really weird. Eventually my curls came back.
#6 I didn't wear make up until I was 18 and foundation until I was 30. Seriously! I had such good skin I didn't need to. Everywhere I went people would ask me what product I was using, and I'd say soap and water. And they're, like "Yeah, right!" Then age hit and my skin looks like poop when I don't wear makeup or products. The joys of being mature :-)

I pass this award on to:

Lesley - my awesome sister in law who posted the very first comment on my very first post!
Lilian- my other sister in law who encouraged me to blog. She's amazing because she is successfully running a household full of boys. 'Nuff said.
Margie- okay, she's another sister in law, and this is sounding like nepotism, but the very best people I know are in my family, so I can't help it. Margie deserves this.
Mom-my wonderful mother mother in law and I hope this makes up for the fact that October 26 was Mother In Law day and I forgot :-(

AND NOW a BIG THANK YOU AND HUGS to my blog friend Lisa Loo in Montana who writes at "Is That A Garage Door On My Ceiling?". She sent me a big box of yummy chocolate that I won at her blog giveaway. Can you believe she managed to mail out boxes of Give Away prizes the week her daughter was having surgery? She is an amazing person! The box she sent was full of fun candy with funny names. This is my father in law getting a kick out of the PMS chocolate bar included in Lisa's box.

And before I log off, if you live in Utah I just have to tell you to go see this concert, WE ALSO SING. It's going to be in the Tabernacle on Temple Square on Saturday, November 1, 2008, at 5:30 and 7:30 p.m.Tickets are still available. Click on the icon below for more information:

I'm talking about this concert because my sister in law Lesley is on the choir. I heard they are amazing, so if you have nothing to do Saturday go see the concert.

Okay, --- I think my to-do box is now empty. Yay! See, I'm not such a crappy friend/sister afterall :-)

Jake!

2008-10-24T00:01:00.000-07:00

Let me just start by saying that I am not one of those people who take their dogs for a doggie pedi, mani or massage. I don't buy him doggie sweaters or leather jackets or Halloween costumes. I don't put him in a doggie purse and take him along to the mall or to red carpet galas. Well, okay, so I would need a purse the size of a 50-gallon barrel to put a 120 pound dog in and I've never been invited to a red carpet gala of anything, but that's not the point. What I'm saying is that I don't do Paris Hilton kind of things for my dog ever ***. But still he is not a deprived dog. On the contrary, he is a beloved, doted on and spoiled rotten dog. Just in a little more down-to-earth, traditional man-dog relationship kind of way. With one exception. I celebrate his birthday! So today I say, Yay, for Jake!

(***I so totally would go Paris Hilton on my dog and take him to get a pedi/mani/massage and buy him doggie sweaters and leather jackets, except I'm out numbered by people in my family who absolutely forbid me to turn the dog "gay" --- their word, not mine--- or they'll never walk the dog or be anywhere near the dog. Not fair!)

(**** Yes, I'm allowed to celebrate the doggie's birthday. Although other members of this family are total traditionalists when it comes to man-dog relationship and think it's weird to put a birthday hat on a dog, and give him birthday presents, they know they have to humor me in my silliness now and again or I'll get crabby.)

Today, October 24, is Jakester Meister Super Hyper's 6th birthday! And that is really his name ---nothing to do with being either a traditionalist or a frivolously silly member of this family. We call him Jake for short. His sire (dad) is named Golden Hunter Biscuit which is a nice enough name for a pure bred labrador retriever, and his dam (mom) is named Destiny's Maximum Overdrive. So Jake's name is in keeping with his pure-bred dog family tradition. One grampa is named Hightest Jakester and the other is Elliott Maxwell King of Spaids. I'm not making these names up. I swear! I took them right out of Jake's pedigree chart, the one the breeder gave us to justify the $$$ he was charging for baby Jake.

The $$$, however, has nothing to do with why my husband likes to say that Jake is his enormous deposit in the emotional bank account. That's just what we say in our family when we do nice things for other family members. We're depositing into the emotional bank account. That is so when we do something idiotic or hurtful, there is enough in the bank account to buy understanding and forgiveness. For example, if you are a teen-ager and you vacuum the stairs without being told, or remember to hang wet towels after you're done in the bathroom, then maybe if you take Dad's car because you forgot to put gas in your own car, just maybe he won't get ticked off when he finds out his car is gone because there's going to be enough "good-deeds" funds in the bank account to cover your stupidity. Anyway---

So I was saying that my husband considers buying Jake and actually allowing us to have a dog in the house his all-time big deposit in the family emotional bank account. You see, my husband was not (past tense!) a dog-person. He grew up in a family that never had dogs. He thought that dogs are dirty, yucky creatures who slobber and shed all over and turns the carpeting into bacteria-breeding farm (actually, he still does). I didn't really know this until after we got married. I, on the other hand, am a real dog-loving person. I grew up in a family that owned, loved and played with dogs and thought that being slobbered on by a stinky creature is no big deal as long as it's someone you love stinking up and slobbering all over you. Yes, I was raised to be a faithful wife- -- er, dog-owner. Meanwhile, my husband hated dogs and for the longest time absolutely refused to have a dog.

Needless to say, my husband eventually had a change of heart. This absolutely had nothing to do with the fact that ~~I brainwashed~~ our children took after me and started bugging daddy for a dog. Ha! He bought a dog on his own accord, and ensconced himself us the best Daddy and Husband in the whole wide world. There is a long, but tender story about the day we got Jake and I'll post about that close to Christmas time, but right now I will just say that getting a dog is my husband's way of telling me he loves me. And miracle of miracles, he now loves that dog, too. In return, Jake regards Daddy as his favorite human. He knows and treats Daddy as the leader of the pack, and is absolutely loyal to him. I am so glad that Jake won my husband's heart fast because Jake had done so many naughty things when he was a puppy that any Daddy who loved him less would have taken him back to the breeder or left him at the pound.

Like the day we came home and there was snow all over our living room except it wasn't snow but the filler material in our couch which Jake ripped apart scattering the filler material all over the first floor of the house. I got a new couch out of that ordeal ~~while Daddy got high blood pressure~~. Or the time we noticed our backyard plants were dying and found that our automatic sprinkling system had been chewed up and ripped apart by the one and only Jake costing us hundreds of dollars to repair. Actually, Jake came very close to going to the pound that day, except Daddy could not resist his puppy dog eyes.

I have to say that Jake's staying power is due to the fact that he more than makes up for all the grief he causes by being the source of absolute cuteness and entertainment. After all, how many 120 pound dogs think they are lap dogs, and sits on Mommy's lap when he is scared? Yes, Mommy, 110-pound Mommy (me) with a 120-pound freaked out dog on my lap. Apparently, that's very amusing to everyone in the family except me. How many dogs get so excited about going to the dog park he hyperventilates and is exhausted even before he gets out of the car? How many dogs eat a loaf worth of bread a week because it's his favorite treat? And how many dogs know his letters? Truly. When I say to my son, "Will you please walk the dog", Jake would go bonkers with excitement like he's going to pee on himself. So one day I simply said to my son, "Can you W the D?" and Jake still went bonkers anyway and almost peed all over, proving that he knows spelling and is a smarty dog! I was a proud Momma!

The only thing not so adorable about Jake if I have to be truthful, is that he is the most neurotic dog I've ever met. He's scared of brooms, laundry baskets, vacuum cleaners, and step stools. If he sees you carrying any of these items, he runs as far away as he can from you. He will not return to the room until he ascertains that you have put away the "horror" object. Despite his annoying neuroses I just cannot help myself but love this crazy dog of mine. So my husband is right. Seeing that I cannot stop thanking him for my dog all these years, he surely has major funds in the emotional bank account.

Happy birthday, Jakey!

When Mommy Thinks Too Loudly

2008-10-20T00:01:00.000-07:00

I desperately need to work on my communications skills. Apparently I've been saying things without talking. That's what my kids have led me to believe anyway. Take the following conversation between me and my daughter a couple of weeks after she started college (Note: she says this is not how the conversation went. I was BAD-der than I let on :-)I say this is how I remember it. And it's my post so my version wins):

ME: How's college life going?
DAUGHTER: Great. I need to figure out a major.
ME: Oh, I thought you wanted to be an English teacher.
DAUGHTER: I've changed my mind. What do you think of me going to Berkeley instead of UCLA?
ME: (kidding around) Great. It's a great school. 'Slong as you don't start hugging trees and stop shaving your pits while you're there.
DAUGHTER: Mohhhmmm!
ME: And what are you going to major in at Berkeley?
DAUGHTER: Peace and Conflict Studies.
ME: Oh? Hmm.
DAUGHTER: What? You don't think that's a good major?
ME: (fumbling) Well, I don't know what that is. Might be kind of hard to explain when people ask what my daughter is studying.
DAUGHTER: It's a degree in Humanities, Mom, but you major in Peace and Conflict studies. Didn't you say you want me to do something in life that uses my intelligence?
ME: (guilty) I guess I'm okay with whatever you choose as long as it's something that makes you happy.
DAUGHTER: (exasperated) Mom, stop holding out for me to be a lawyer, okay? I'm not going to be a lawyer so stop making me want to be one!!!
ME: (confused)Huh?

Did anyone hear me say I want her to be a lawyer?! I didn't know that "As long as it's something that makes you happy" translates into, "Get your head straight on, and find a college major that will land you a real job like being a lawyer. " Anyway, a week later, my daughter declared Anthropology as her major. She'll be digging for fossils in Africa while she lives in a tent. Could be a real job. I think. Besides since I'm only paying for her college and not going to college myself that's all I'm entitled to say on that topic

Then there's my conversation with my son. Background: talking is not his strongest suit. I mean, I'm doing well if I get more than one syllable from him. Seriously! Anyway, he's a sophomore in high school, and his sister's friend who's a senior asked him to be her date to Homecoming. He said he's going to think about it. This is me checking on his plans because Moms do that kind of thing, right?

ME: So are you going to Homecoming with R?
SON: I don't know.
ME: It will be rude not to let her know soon.
SON: I guess.
ME: Well, would you rather go with another girl?
SON: No.
ME: Is there a girl you like you have not told me about?
SON: No.
ME: You don't like any girl?
SON: Mom, I'm not gay, okay? Sheesh!
ME: Ah--b- wha--huh?

So apparently, I said "You're 16 and you're not interested in any girl. Are you by chance gay?" without saying it at all! How does that work?

I guess I suck at communicating with my kids. How does that happen to someone with a Bachelors degree in Communication? Could it be because despite my college degree I don't really remember attending a class called "Teen-ager-ish as a Second Language"? Sigh. I swear I was doing great at this parenting gig until the kids hit middle school, when all of a sudden they turned into aliens and things got confusing to me. Dang! I've never done anything harder than mothering teen-agers.

BUT for what it's worth, I have a feeling that although I don't talk the talk they're still listening somehow. I say that because they live like they do. They sometimes argue and disagree with my insistence that they behave a certain way. But when it comes down to it they are obedient, and do as they're told. They stay out of trouble. They do great in school. Authority figures love them. They act like they love me and their Dad. So they have to be listening to me, right? They may oftentimes act disinterested in my "wisdom" but they can't follow rules they've never heard before. So we might not have the prettiest, warm and fuzzy way of talking to one another, but they listen. In fact, maybe they are listening to me so well that they're even hearing the things I don't say.

It could be because my thoughts are louder than my words. They probably watch my facial expressions for clues on what's in my head because they actually care about what I think and whether I approve of what they do or not. They do that because even when they think they don't need my approval, deep down maybe they do. So they watch, they listen, they interpret and they call me on my thoughts. Thoughts that say, "I'm judging you. I don't get you. I'm doubting you. I am not as supportive of you as I say I am."

If I really want to be better at parenting I need to watch not only what I say, but what I think. I need to be a good, supportive, non-judgmental person inside out. I need to be a good Mom not only because that's a worthy desire, but because I am trying to be a truly good person inside. Maybe next time when I think a thought nothing will be lost in translation when I speak.

How about you? What is your secret to effective communication with your kids? Is your message clear or do you lose the message somewhere during the conversation?

Halloween Through The Years

2008-10-16T00:01:00.000-07:00

It used to be that Halloween has the effect of bringing out the domestic goddess in me. My kids loved this holiday so much when they were younger that as a "good Mom" there were years I did my best to overcome my arts & crafts phobia and made my kids Halloween costumes. Yes, as in operate a sewing machine, thread a needle and sew! I can see my friends looking at me like, "You?" Yes, me. What's so unbelievable about that? Just because my sewing machine is now collecting dust in the closet in the guest room doesn't mean I don't know how to use it. I actually have pretty decent skills when I'm motivated. Back then my babies' innocent expectations and faith in their Mommy's super powers were motivation enough. I did not make their costumes every year, but I did it enough years to make my kids think I was the best Mom ever.

Sigh. Simple times.

Back then I enjoyed seeing the excitement on my kids' faces as they waited for me to finish sewing and the celebration when the costumes turned out fabulous. I loved how they wanted to keep their costumes after Halloween to play dress up with. There were even years I was extra domestic and had full-on Halloween decorations at home. I had Halloween projects for them including pumpkin carving, painting and decoration. Those years hold my fondest memories of being a Mom to my babies. Memories forever etched in my heart.

Now my babies are teenagers and they still like Halloween but it's not quite the same. Now a days it's just another excuse to party with friends. And Mommy gets the enviable assignment of staying home and giving out candy to trick-or-treaters. Holidays like this make me miss days of Halloween-past, and a little envious of Moms with little ones. But I know there is a season for everything and I'm in a different season now. I'm just really grateful that I can look back on my past seasons and know I did my best at each stage of mommy-hood. I hope someday the prince and the princess will remember all I did and still think I was their very own Super Mom.

Here are some photos of past Halloweens, with my kids in the costumes I made myself.

Peter Pan and Tinkerbell for AJ's very first Halloween:

Princess Jasmine and Prince Ali from Disney's Alladin:

Esmeralda and Phoebus from Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame:

This particular year AJ was a generic pirate and Tara was Megara from Disney's "Hercules":

Tara was Medusa from Greek mythology and AJ was the Ghost of Frankenstein:

Lucky for me, it's not such a big deal to mess up on Halloween costumes. My mistakes kind of just became part of the "scary" effect :-) HOW ABOUT YOU? What Halloween crafts and creations are you proud of? What do your kids enjoy the most doing with you during Halloween season?

Sunshine In My Soul

2008-10-11T21:49:00.000-07:00

My husband considers me a low-maintenance wife. Honest! He says it's because it really doesn't take much to make me happy. He oftentimes tells me how he loves how my face beams like a little girl when I am excited about getting things I want even if those things in themselves are unspectacular to others. He says he loves the way I giggle with delight over the most unexpected sources of joy. And it's true. For some reason, I seem to have been blessed and gifted with the ability to find joys in the simple little things in life.

You see I am not really "Grumpy". That nickname is just a reference to that picture on my blog of me in angel costume when I was 3. But that's not really who I am or who I grew up to be. In fact, my family thinks the adult version of that little grumpy angel should be called "Bratty Angel". But a happy one. "Happy Bratty Angel", however, doesn't sound as good as "Little Grumpy Angel" for a blog title, does it? But I digress...

So back to ME and my simple joys. Well, Friday I had one and almost missed it. All my favorite blogs are on my blog dashboard, and Bloggers Annex as you notice on my sidebar is one of my favorite places to visit. That's where the bloggers who I think are the best writers in BlogLand "congregate". I wrote about this site awhile back here. Originally, I just wanted to read and enjoy the works of writers who I find are incredibly gifted. I became a regular '"commenter" on some of my favorite Bloggers Annex blogs, and some of the writers are kind and nice and visit my blog, too. It's probably oft times excruciating for them to read my mundane posts, but they are as kind and supportive as they are talented. A couple of weeks ago the Annex people called for more participation from members and I got brave enough to submit one of the little poems I've written. I thought it will probably never see the light of day, but what the hay. So Friday, a new post on Bloggers Annex rolled to the top of my Blogs-I-Follow list on my dashboard. It was titled, "Daydreams." I decided to just read it later because I like reading the Annex posts when I have time to enjoy them and not be rushed through the experience. I never got around to it Friday. Then Saturday morning I opened my personal e-mail and there were e-mails about my post on Bloggers Annex. I was confused. What post? Then bam! It hit me. "Daydreams" was the title of the poem I submitted. Holy crap! So I went to the Annex and there it was. My poem! Posted on Friday. I was like, "It was good enough?????? It was good enough!!!!!" Sorry for all the punctuations, but oh, my word! I'm legit! I'm a REAL Bloggers Annex member. I know, I know, it's not the lottery or the Pulitzer prize...but it was an unexpected honor. It was sunshine in my soul today. An insignificant accomplishment to others but a really big deal to me. Simple joys.

So if you saw me today (Saturday) you probably noticed the cheesy little smile I had all day. My husband surely noticed. He said, "You seem really pleased about it, huh?" I smiled and he smiled and hugged me. Then he said, "If you don't mind I invited my friend and his wife over to our house for dinner. They'll be here in less than 2 hours." What the ---- well, even that didn't wipe the smile off my face. Almost. But not quite. I ran around like a chicken with my head cut off tidying up the house and ordering take out for dinner (no time to cook!) still with a smile on my face. After doing that to me, my husband was very lucky Bloggers Annex made my day. I maybe a low maintenance wife, but there are things a husband should not do. So to the anonymous folks behind Bloggers Annex, my husband thanks you. And I do, too.

So family, friends, blog pals, and even lurkers if you don't mind giving me a little more sunshine, please click the button below to go see my poem, and if you like leave me a comment over there, too, so they won't think I'm a big fat loser and not publish me the next time I'm once again brave enough to submit another post :-) And thanks for doing that!

Fear and Preparation

2008-10-11T00:01:00.000-07:00

Scary times.

There's carnage on Wall Street. Fear and trembling on Main Street.

My little corner of the world has not been spared. Heads are rolling. They don't call it the guillotine. They call it "re-structuring". Sounds harmless, but how come it feels like mass murder?

First to fall were some of the big boys and big girls. The demi-gods on Mt.Olympus with capitalized abbreviations for job titles. I wasn't too affected. They were just names on memos and on the corporate directory.

And then they started off-ing the Area Vice Presidents. I gasped. Mine was one of them. Great guy. One of those whose nod and "Good job!" meant something to me. I honestly will miss him. I'm still bummed out and that was two weeks ago.

Then this week they started "restructuring" the corporate level managers. Holy cow! was all a colleague could say when we received the announcement via e-mail. I felt chills down my spine as I sat in front of my computer at work. This is getting too close. That's only one layer above me. I actually know these people. A couple of them are even my friends. This hurts a little more.

So who's next? Me? Is my level of area managers the next one to be examined for fat trimming? I think I have a little more sympathy now for the innocent defendant waiting for the jury's verdict. It's not the happiest place to be. And I am not even accused of any crime. I just happen to live and work during troubled times. Wrong place, wrong time.

My friends among the people in the level below say I've got nothing to worry about. The powers that be love me. Hmm. Last time I checked the powers that be who love me had been beheaded and sent away in coffins covered with pink slips. Those that survived are too worried about their own sweet buns to care about saving me.

My coping mechanism is starting to get in gear and telling me not to worry about something I cannot possibly control. Often during troubled times I fall back on one simple phrase, "Peace. Be still." It's always been my steady rock to hold on to. Yet in the back of my mind I am taking inventory of how prepared I am for disaster. I have a family to think of.

Food storage? Check! Um, well maybe I'm being dramatic. It's probably never coming to that, but if it does, well, dang! I've never even tried that dried stuff in cans gathering dust in the pantry. I only bought them because I am supposed to. Funny how the threat of hardship humbles you and put things in perspective and lessons finally sink through the layer of arrogance or indifference around one's heart.

What else? What else can I do to prepare? Jan at "Crazy Lady on Road 80" posted about this earlier this week. I found it very helpful if you want to check it out. I've picked up a couple of things from her and from the comments she got that I already implemented. Even if you don't care for this topic go check her out anyway. I actually just recently found her and if you are looking for a gem in Blogworld, that's where you find it.

An old boss e-mailed me yesterday and said, "During times like this, laughter is key..." I found laughter this week. Whoever blogs at "Seriously So Blessed" is brilliance personified. Her take on the "economies" on this post had me laughing my head off. But before you go you must first look up the meaning of "satire" and you MUST go with a sense of humor. Some of the comments can be blasphemous but the author never is. She's simply brilliantly funny. Who would have believed that a fake Mormon princess of the dingbat variety has the wisest advise on the internet about the "economies"?

I hope things don't get so dire that I will actually need what little we have in food storage. I hope the bail-out works. Those who are against it, I hope you know that as much as you want to punish the stupid greedy people who caused this disaster, you must also think about the collateral damage to a meltdown in the financial system. That would be the workers of America, your husbands, wives, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, friends and your neighbors who will lose jobs if this isn't fixed. And if this isn't fixed for a while, then there will more scary times. Sad times. So maybe even if you didn't support it you can at least hope with me that it will work.

Frugal living, disaster preparedness and humor. Shield and armor during these times. How about you? How do you cope with the possibility of a disaster? What are you doing to prepare besides praying (which is the obvious recourse)? What is your plan of survival should the plague enter your door? I want to know. I want to learn from you.

Homeboys

2008-10-08T00:01:00.000-07:00

One of my biggest worries as a Mom was and is the kind of friends my kids will surround themselves with during their adolescent years. I read somewhere that sometimes parents overestimate their influence on their children during these critical years. The truth is, I remember the author saying, that parents are at the height of their irrelevance during this time. The most influential people to teen-agers are their peers. We can battle with them, ground them, butt heads with them, but the fact remains that at this age, if they are normal kids, they are more likely to value their friends' opinion more than their parents'. Hence, the importance of laying down a good foundation from infancy through their pre-adolescence that could be their anchor in the age of turbulence, and the paramount importance of our kids choosing good friends during their teen age years.

Here is a picture of my son and his homies during his birthday party. He only wanted to invite these 7 boys to celebrate the day with him, and all 7 came. It's a very tight-knit crowd. Some of these boys he met when he was in football, and some are members of his amateur rock band since middle school.

From AJ's Birthday

I am very relieved and very proud of my son for choosing to surround himself with good friends. I'm not sure if Utah LDS Moms would neccesarily agree, but I think that for non-Utah parents, raising kids outside the protective church bubble adds another layer to the challenge of raising teen-agers. For one, it doesn't matter what crowd your kids belong to in high school in Utah, they will still most likely end up in a crowd that's predominantly LDS. Not so with kids raised outside of Utah. They are more likely to have friends who are of a different belief system and have different values. And how can I fault them for choosing non-LDS friends when I also try to teach them to be open-minded and have appreciation for diversity?

So very fortunately for us (knock on wood!), our son found good friends who may not share his religion but share his values and standards. And it actually has not been a difficult thing to do. After all, good hearts and high standards are not the monopoly of Mormons. There are actually oodles of non-LDS families out there with good Christian values and raising their kids to be good people, and we are blessed that our son found friends from such families. These boys pictured above with my son are good, delightful boys. Some of them are athletes, some are music-minded, but all are good students, and good boys from good families.

We saw our daughter make it through the land mine called high school and come out well-rounded and well-adjusted. I know the jury is still out as she still has her life ahead of her, but so far so good and we hope the same for her brother. We'd like to think that we did it mostly by laying a good foundation for them in our home. But sometimes when I see troubled kids, especially troubled LDS kids then I think maybe we are just lucky.

How about you? What challenges did you face or are facing with your kids' choice of friends? Do you think kids should be allowed to become close friends with those who are not of the same religion or value system?

(Here are more pics of AJ and his home boys from the birthday party. Enjoy! )

My Baby Boy Is 16!

2008-10-06T00:01:00.000-07:00

(After writing such an emotional post on my daughter's birthday just 4 days ago I was contemplating writing a lighter post for my son's birthday. Then I decided to stop thinking in terms of blogs and what would be appealing to readers. It seems I am in danger of getting caught up in the blogging game that I forget to be ME on my own blog. So I decided that for my son's 16th birthday I will write what's in my heart just like I did for my daughter's. This post is for him.)

My son AJ is a literal answer to my prayers.

Before AJ's birth, Heavenly Father gave me two precious gifts. He sent me Christopher to make me a mother, a son to borrow and enjoy for a time until He called him back for a higher mission in heaven. Then he sent me Tara to be my angel, to let me see joy through my tears, and to fill my heart with love so I would not always feel the empty spot Christopher left behind. Both my Christopher and Tara, were heavenly presents from a loving heavenly father, sent down to help me fulfill my call to motherhood, precious eternal gifts given to me tenderly and freely.

But AJ, I had to beg for.

He wasn't an unexpected, delightful treasure like those given by generous friends and family on one's birthday or special occasions. Rather, AJ was a precious gem at the store window that I wanted and desperately desired. I longingly stood by that window and I begged with all my heart and pleaded in tears until it was given to me by a kind and merciful Father.

When there were indications that due to health reasons my baby after Tara would be my last baby, I went to Heavenly Father and asked him to give me a son. Not to replace Christopher because that can never be, but because I wanted a son here on earth to keep. Although my daughter has made me whole again and she will be my friend and comfort, I also wanted the blessing of a son to be my pillar of strength during my mortal days. I cannot fully explain why this is so important to me. It just is. I even imagine now and again that when mortality comes to a close, my son on earth, AJ, will be there to hand me through the veil into the arms of my son in heaven, Christopher. So more than 16 years ago I knelt before my Heavenly Father and told him my desire. I told him I do not understand for what higher purpose he took my first son, but I would find comfort and reassurance if he sends another great spirit to be what a son should be to me here on earth. I begged with all my strength and I pleaded like a child. He heard me. He had mercy on me. He gave me AJ.

Today AJ is sixteen years old, and my heart is full with indescribable emotions. Heavenly Father heard my prayers. He did not give me just any son, but a most wonderful boy any Mom would be proud to have. Perhaps because AJ was born in my heart before he was formed in my womb I have always had a special bond with him. I remember many quiet nights when he was a baby. After I fed him, I would cuddle him in my arms and talk softly to him about my gratitude for having him in my life and for my hopes for him. He would stare back at me quietly, and then he would smile, and he'd gurgle and coo as if to tell me he knew what I was saying. Then I would kiss him and just look at him for a long time. I knew then that AJ and I would always have this bond that will allow us to communicate wordlessly with our hearts. That has been true his entire childhood. Somehow I just always knew what AJ needs and how he feels. And AJ always seems to know how to reach me and talk directly to my heart in wordless ways.

Now that he is a teen-ager I still have that bond with him, despite the occasional static interference of adolescense. I guess it's natural that now that he is at the threshold of manhood he identifies with his Dad and is closer to him. But I still feel the eternal connection I have with him stronger than ever.

The kind of young man AJ is makes me happy, gives me a smile and makes me incredibly proud to be his Mom. Heavenly Father blessed me with a son just as I asked. He granted me a gift, but he also gave him to me beautifully gift wrapped and perfectly packaged. A son who stands above the crowd; tall, handsome, gifted, talented, and best of all blessed with a good and obedient heart. Today AJ is sixteen, and I am back on my knees before my Heavenly Father. This time not to beg, but to give thanks for his kindness and mercy for giving me-- his inadequate and imperfect handmaiden--- this most precious of treasures to keep.

Happy 16th Birthday, Jay-jax!

Prison Versus Work

2008-10-03T23:41:00.000-07:00

Somebody at work sent this to me and I find it amusing if not thought-provoking so I'm sharing.

Just in case you ever get these two environments mixed up, this comparison chart should make things a little bit clearer:

@ PRISON You spend most of your time in a 10X10 cell
@ WORK You spend most of your time in a 6X6 cubicle

@ PRISON You get three fully paid for meals a day
@ WORK You get a break for one meal, and you have to pay for it

@ PRISON For good behavior, you get time off
@ WORK For good behavior, you get more work

@ PRISON The guard locks and unlocks all the doors for you
@ WORK You must carry a security card and open all the doors yourself

@ PRISON You can watch TV and play games
@ WORK You could get fired for watchingTV and playing games

@ PRISON You get your own toilet
@ WORK You have to share the toilet with people who pee on the seat

@ PRISON They allow your family and friends to visit
@ WORK You aren't even supposedto speak to your family

@ PRISON All expenses are paid by the taxpayers with no work required on your part
@ WORK You must pay all your expenses to go to work, and they deduct taxes from your salary to pay for prisoners

@ PRISON You spend most of your life inside bars wanting to get out
@ WORK You spend most of your time wantingto get out and go inside bars

@ PRISON You must deal with sadistic wardens
@ WORK They are called 'managers'

THERE IS SOMETHING SERIOUSLY WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE.
Now get back to work. You're not getting paid to read blogs!!!!

Blessed By An Angel

2008-10-02T00:01:00.000-07:00

(I don't think I have opened up my heart this wide in the last 18 years. Not even to close family members, except my husband. More often than not, I deal with life's difficulties by either being aloof or being silly; concealing my heart to keep it safe. But today I take a risk. I want the world to know how much my angel means to me and why.)

She Is 18 Today!

To open this post by saying that Tara was sent to us from heaven to restore light into our dark world, to mend our broken hearts, and to help us find hope at the bottom of Pandora's box might seem just a little over dramatic to some people. But those who know us and the events before Tara's birth, will agree that this is in fact a major understatement. Tara arrived in our life at the end of an annus horribilis. She was born just 10 months after my world crumbled when her almost 3 year old brother, our first child Christopher, passed away due to "undetermined natural causes". As if that devastation was not enough in itself, 6 months before her birth my grandfather, a man I deeply honored and respected , died from cancer; followed 4 months later by my beloved father who also battled and lost to cancer. Then a couple of months before Tara's birth our young niece Asleigh was diagnosed with a brain tumor which eventually took her life.

After going through all these, the mother who waited for Tara's birth was a mother who had cried so many tears her heart had dried up. She was a mother who was scared to love the baby in her womb for it seemed everyone she loved was taken. How could she be excited for the birth of this child in the midst of death? How could she possibly love this baby now that she knows love can be lost to life's tragedies and that heaven could rip her heart open anytime? I was that mother. A mother whose spirit was weighted down by a heavy and broken heart. My body eventually could not cope with my deep anguish and I came down with a severe case of mononucleosis during my pregnancy. My husband was there to take care of me, to comfort me and be my strength but many times when I looked at him I saw only grief for the loss of our son in the lines of his face. So there were nights I laid down thinking how unfair for this child to come into a world of broken hearts and broken spirits. How unfair to be born into a world of darkness and tears. Why God? Why send her to me now?

The answer I found was because heavenly father knew that for me and for Tara's Dad to be on the path of healing, emotionally and spiritually, we needed an angel in our life. Tara was not born into a world of darkness because she was born with her own light which illuminated the lives she touched. The moment we heard Tara's first cry the dark clouds shrouding our life were lifted and the million broken pieces of our hearts were put back together and mended. An angel daughter was sent to us, and the moment she was placed next to my heart I knew that she filled my emptiness and I would love her without fear. I remember crying as they whisked her away so they could finish with my surgery. I remember the nurse patting my cheek and gently telling me that it was okay because they will be done soon and it will be over. But I wasn't crying because of physical pain. I was crying because I felt happy, a feeling I had not felt for a while and thought would never feel again. Tara, my angel brought that feeling back, and I was crying because I was overwhelmed.

Right now as I write this I am crying again. With mixed but mostly happy emotions. Our angel is now 18. It seems to me only yesterday when family members came to visit us in the hospital after her birth that the same sad faces that used to surround me were now faces of joy. It seems only yesterday that I looked over at Tara's Dad holding our new born in his arms, and saw peace, relief and pure joy in his face and a deep love for his daughter in his eyes. And now here she is, our angel of light and restoration, now 18 years old and slipping away into adulthood. Please forgive me for the sappiness of this post, but my heart is full today.

We have not been perfect parents to Tara, that's for sure. But this we know, we have always been grateful for her, we have always recognized she is heavenly father's gift to us, and we treasure her forever. Perhaps because of what she means to us that we might have "spoiled" our only daughter a bit. Perhaps we have been indulgent. But then also perhaps through the years, now and again, we might have forgotten she is an angel, and treated her less than she should be treated. But inspite our shortcomings just look at what a wonderful young woman she has become. A daughter blessed with a tender heart, as well as beauty, intelligence and a passion for life. An angel with an angel's voice and love for music who fills our home with song. My hope for her on this special day is that despite the imperfections of her parents, she will always remember who she is and live so that someday she can be worthy to stand before the loving Father who sent her to us.

Happy 18th birthday to our precious Angel Girl!

It's All About Me Again

2008-09-30T00:01:00.000-07:00

My beautifull blog friend Merrianne tagged me with this a few days ago but I had such a hard time finding 7 things about me that's mildly interesting so I've been putting it off. Then today I visited another blog favorite McEwens and Pam had the same tag going. She cleverly said all odd numbered commenters were tagged. I happened to be #11. Merrianne and Pam are very fun bloggers, and just so interesting and clever, it's hard to follow their act. But this is a very fun tag, and I don't want to be the killjoy, so I'm doing it. Here it goes...

7 Things You Might Not Know About Me

I have severe allergies and my doctor requires that I carry EpiPen with me in case I venture near the portals of death :-) All I need to do should my airways get blocked by swelling is find the syringe inside my purse and stick it on my thigh. There is a possibility that my throat will swell up and I will not be able to breath because I am allergic to milk and milk products. Not lactose intolerant, but full-on allergic. I am also severely allergic to weeds, grass, pollen and trees. But the reaction to the latter is usually only hives, sneezing and runny nose, swollen itchy eyes, and itchy throat. My reaction to touching milk products on the other hand ranges from agonizing stomach pains to dying. Okay, I have not experienced the dying reaction yet, but I've landed in the emergency room a couple of times. To illustrate how serious it can get, this is how my face normally looks. This is how I looked the couple of times I landed in the emergency room of the hospital.After my family got over their worry and were reassured by doctors that I was temporarily deformed but will not die, my husband decided he could joke around and called me Disco Duck. My son also thought it was so neat his Mom can change appearance like a comic book super villain so he took pictures with his cell phone and showed it to his school friends. Yup, I'm a hot Mom. I am The Mom with a photo most viewed by high school boys including the football team.
(My husband wants me to include this because he thinks this is interesting) I had 3 marriage proposals before I was married. Not all at the same time, but within 3 years. No, no, no! I'm not saying "I'm all that" for getting all these marriage proposals at all. There are bizarre stories behind these proposals that I'll post about someday. Enough to say for now that one of these guys was weird enough to give me the then equivalent of a "wonder b-r-a" for my birthday. Ew! As if! How could he have even known what size to get? And no, I didn't accept his b-r-a and his proposal. My Mr. Right eventually came along and he is not a weird guy. 20+years of marriage and it still feels so right. I mean the husband, not my self-purchased b-r-a-s :-) (I'm spelling to avoid another R rating)
I like to draw and been told I have the talent. But I've never had formal instructions so I don't know if I really do have any real talent. I enjoy drawing regardless. Here's my not-quite-done portrait of my 80's crush Johnny Depp.

I am multi-racial. I am very proud to be of Filipino heritage, and I get annoyed by Filipinos who make it a point to tell everyone they are of mixed blood because they're embarrassed to be Filipino. But I shouldn't be so judgmental because I also can't deny that I'm multi-racial. I'm Filipino/Spanish/Chinese. My paternal grampa was a white man with hazel eyes. My maternal grampa looked like Buddha :-) But I just tell everyone I'm a shortie Filipina. I don't tell people I'm Spanish or Chinese because I think it is pretensious for somebody born and raised in the Philippines to do that. I don't know, maybe I'm wrong.
I can easily put on different sides of my personality. No, I am not a multiple personality nut job! Sheeesh! No jumping to conclusions please. But I'm very good at adapting to environments and sometimes I surprise people in one environment who sees me in another. I have a personality for different occasions. I don't pretend to be something that I'm not at all. I just show the part of me needed for the moment. But people mistakenly conclude that must be me. The whole of me is actually reserved for family and close friends...which is starting to include blog friends :-) I don't do it purposely. It sort of just happens when I interact with people.
I majored in Mass Communication and even graduated cum laude (with honors) but now gets paid to interpret statistics and numbers. I was more the literary type when I was a student , winning essay writing contests and getting medals for excellence in journalism. My first job out of college was as a TV news reporter. Then life sort of just happened and now I work with numbers. I think I'm pretty good at it because I get job promotions, I feel respected, and I bring home a fairly decent pay check. So when my kids tell me they'll never use Math ever, I tell them life can happen so you better get the skills just in case.
I can't sleep if my closet is open. Even if I'm all snugged in bed if I look over and see my walk-in closet open, I get up to close it or I'll never fall asleep. I have this weird fear that Samara from the scary movie "The Ring" is going to come out of my closet with her long, wet hair covering her face and she'll kill me while I sleep. You think I need therapy? You can tell me I'm weird. I won't be offended :-)

The 7 people I'm tagging are:

1. Mom, 2. Lesley, 3. Lilian, 4. Margie, 5. Emily, 6. Melissa Turney 7. Melissa Leger

I'm 29...AGAIN

2008-09-28T00:45:00.000-07:00

It's my birthday today.

I'm 29.

Again.

For like way over a decade now.

My kids told me it's time to start being 39 instead of 29. They said I could definitely getaway with that. And they meant that as a compliment. Oh, yeah? Thanks a lot children. Is it my harder-and-harder to conceal gray hair that's the dead give-away that I'm not 29? Just so you kids know, you are responsible for every single gray follicle.

Anyway it's my birthday. I was told I can do anything I want. Princess Of The Day kind of thing.

Um, are you sure family? Have you forgotten how unpredictably crazy I can be sometimes? How do you know this is not one of those days I have wickedness percolating in my mind? How do you know this is not the day mid-life crisis begins for me and and I end up being outrageous? So you're gonna hand me a carte blanche just like that, huh?

Okay, then. Here's what I want to do on my birthday: I want to make one of my secret perverse wishes come true.

And my secret wish is to publish a half-nekked photo of me on my blog. Maybe it has something to do with finding out the other day that I have a rated R blog. So here it is. Wish come true :-)

This is me unabashedly flashing the world at 5 months of age even though I was a little fatty. What! You thought I'd post a nekked picture of me as an adult? Well, I maybe a cheeky monkey, but I don't want to scare people away. Seriously, folks!

But let me just say this --- and this might be too much information for some of you, but hey, it's my birthday, remember?-- that I am anatomically much improved since then. Not so very much, but improved nevertheless.

Is that my husband I hear choking on his spit? And that must be my children groaning and hiding their heads under their pillows.

Ahhhh, there. I'm having a great birthday already! Where's my cake?

"Heart of A Lioness"

2008-09-26T12:10:00.000-07:00

Do you remember the line from a hymn that goes like this:

"How blessed the day when the lamb and the lion

Shall lie down together without any ire..."

~(The Spirit Of God)~

Apparently, the world had a glimpse of how this could be starting in 2002. I don't know about you but I did not hear about it until very recently. My daughter was watching Animal Planet a week ago and I just happened to walk into the room. They were showing the story of a lioness who adopted a baby orynx antelope. Not exactly a lamb, but still a creature that a lioness will hunt and tear apart for dinner rather than lie down next to and even nurture. I sat and watched riveted by the documentary and I was moved near tears as the story of this lioness and her adopted baby unfolded. Here's a photo of Kamunyak (the lioness) and the baby orynx.

Isn't this just amazing? It baffled the scientific world. What would make a young lioness in the Samburu Reserve, Kenya, set aside her predatory instincts to adopt a baby orynx antelope? She even gave the baby TLC for 16 days giving up her most basic needs (hunting for food) and proved to be a very compassionate and protective "mother".

What has stirred the heart of this lioness? Even the local Samburu people — who named the lioness Kamunyak, which means "the blessed one" — have never witnessed anything like this before. The orynx calf separated from its mother was hungry and weak. Kamunyak inexplicably "adopted" the orynx and became it's protector from other predators. Refusing to leave her young charge, she was unable to hunt and became undernourished. The Samburu people now seeing Kamunyak as a miraculous lioness urged the reserve warden to help and feed her. He threw her some meat, but she refused to eat. As the days passed she became weaker and less able to protect herself or the orynx from other lions.

If you've read about or seen this documentary you know how it ends. If you have not, then I will not spoil it for you. "The Heart of A Lioness" is scheduled to run on Animal Planet again on October 10 at 4 am and October 19 at 3 pm.

I urge you to watch it. It is an amazing and touching story. Sometimes when I think of a lamb and a lion lying together it seems like such a leap of faith. It defies the natural predator-prey relationship between these creatures. But Kamunyak and her orynx proved it is not really a fairy tale or a figment of a religious person's imagination anymore, is it?

So will "the earth be restored to its paradisiacal glory"? That hymn I previously quoted has these lines, too:

"The Lord is extending the Saints’ understanding,
Restoring their judges and all as at first.
The knowledge and power of God are expanding;
The veil o’er the earth is beginning to burst."

I think that Kamunyak's story has extended my understanding that just because science can't explain some thing it doesn't make it impossible or untrue.

Blocked for Content

2008-09-24T00:01:00.000-07:00

Shocking news. At least to me.

I found out my blog is rated R, or whatever the blog equivalent rating is. Apparently if you wanted to read the post just before this one(from Saturday, September 20th) and you have your parental control program turned on, your computer will block my blog.

I found out about it from my sister in law, Margie. She wrote: "It was pretty funny when I went to go look at your blog and my computer with the family saftey blocks on it...BLOCKED your blog...probably because of the reference to Victoria Secret. I knew whatever you had written about had to be family safe, so I had to unblock your address, so I could read your blog. "

Thank goodness Margie knows me better. But how about those who do not? I am embarrassed and I would have felt devastated if it wasn't so ridiculous it's hilarious.

I mean I know I can be sassy and mischievous. I can't help it if I was born playful. But I've always considered myself wholesome. Yes, wholesome as in Disneyfied wholesome; damsel-in-distress-who-sings-and-dances-with-deer-and-twittering-birds-and-cute-precocious-bunnies-waiting-for-prince-charming wholesome. I can be quirky and different inside my head (obviously, huh?) but outwardly I am all Disney. I don't have pink/green/blue hair, don't have nose/tongue rings, no tattoos (Not judging! Just saying!), and I cover whatever little cleavage I have with modest clothing. At work, I'm all nice and chatty and I get teased for attending company parties and not drinking. Always the designated driver, never the drunk. I also get good-naturedly 'rassed for using dorky Mormon swear words like Darn, Shoot, Frickin' this and Frickin' that instead of the normal foul version. Come to think of it, using funny swear words instead of real honest-to-goodness expletives may have been harmful to my career. Maybe I would have risen even higher on the career ladder despite the proverbial glass ceiling if I wasn't too darn wholesome. After all, for a woman to succeed in my male dominated world you have to walk and talk like you have no problem slashing someone's throat if you have to. Saying "Darn" and "H-E-double tooth pick" just doesn"t make me sound ruthless and in-charge.

Yet after all I've suffered to live a G-rated life (well, okay, let's be honest; more like PG-13), I end up R-rated in Blogland anyway? What the H-E-double tooth pick?

Can you believe I was blocked for content? I guess, it's not PG to talk about underwear on your blog. Sheesh! Too bad because I was gonna up the ante after Mother Goose gave me an idea for a post when she started talking about falsies. Now that would have been a rather sticky subject , won't it? (no pun intended).

Anyway, to those out there who have the wrong idea about me and my blog. Fear not. I may be somewhat twisted, and it shows now and again, but in general my blog is a family friendly place.

Of Blogs and Underwear

2008-09-20T19:03:00.000-07:00

Someone once said on someone's post (can't remember who****) that changing your blog layout is like changing your underwear. One should do it often. Well, I think you should most definitely do it everyday --- change your underwear I mean. As for changing blog layouts, that's a totally different story. When you change your underwear you don't lose anything. When you change blog layouts you may lose widgets. I did and this is what I have to say about it:

WAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! GOSH DANG IT!

I lost all my widgets and basically had to re-build my blog. At least all the stuff on my side-bar. Of course, I know I'm the only one to blame. I am HTML-challenged and really do not know what I'm doing when it comes to blogging. So what the heck was I doing trying to overhaul my blog? Thank goodness changing one's underwear is not as hard because for sure I'll be running around with dirty underwear.

Okay, so maybe I made it harder for myself. I got a little ambitious. I wanted the Victoria's Secret of blog layouts. I did't stick to just changing into those cute scrapbooky 2 column layouts. It would have been really pretty and really sensible like, say, Hanes underwear. It would have been just perfect. But did I go for cute and sensible? Oh, no. Not I. I wanted 3-columns. And I wanted it baaaaad! I also wanted to do some digital scrapbooking effects. I wanted my blog to look spiffy. Did I succeed? I. Did. Not. And you know because you're staring at the pathetic result.

Somehow I got the 3-column layout although I can't tell you how I finally got it. All I remember was some weeping when I messed up HTML codes and my blog disappeared. After I calmed down and focused I finally made it reappear, but my entire sidebar was gone. My consolation was I finally got my 3 columns. By this point, however, I was exhausted and lacking in desire or confidence to fiddle with digital scrapbooking effects. I rebuilt and restored my page elements, changed the background color and I was done. For now anyway. I'm just too mentally exhausted to bother with layouts any further.

I am, however, definitely going to try later because as you can see the result is not the Victoria's Secret of blogs. For all my troubles, I ended up with a NANNY-GRANNY PANTY of a blog! But did I already mention I got my 3 columns?

Stay-tuned for further renovations down the line. I told my husband I want a digital scrapbooking program for my birthday. That's about a week from now. It has to be the most user-friendly, dummy-proof program there is. I cannot handle anymore blog mishap, but I can't rest until I can spiff up my 3-column blog with a scrapbook look either. I WANT THE "VICTORIA'S SECRET" OF BLOGS, GOSH, DARN IT!

For some reason I'm hearing my father-in-law's voice in my head right now. He likes to say that Victoria's Secret is no secret at all. (It reveals too much. Get it? Get it? Sort of like my blog, doncha think?)

**** Okay so PAM reminded me who started this blog layout-underwear analogy. It's MOTHER GOOSE! Now MG is talking about widgets and falsies! See her comment. The woman cracks me up!

Drop And Hold

2008-09-17T07:48:00.000-07:00

Tonight I got sick of watching CNN and listening to doom-and-gloom news, "Wall Street Crash Sends World Stocks Tumbling!" I knew that already, hello! My sister just got laid off from her job 2 days ago. All we've been talking about at work for weeks now is how revenues are down versus prior years. Talks all around of businesses closing. Governor Ah-nold is laying off state employees. It's all very worrisome. I couldn't help but ask what does this mean to me? Will I lose my "things"? It was a depressing train of thought, I needed to get away.

So I decided to look at art work on the web. I browsed LDSArt.com and this caught my attention. Pretty funky, huh? Not your typical Mormon art work. At first I thought oh, I love how this stands out, but what's one of the 7 dwarfs (or is it dwarves?) doing among Mormon art work? Then I read what it said under "The story behind the art" and it really hit home. The message, at least got me thinking about "things" I value versus "things" that matter. I'm glad I found this tonight, so of course what do I do? I blog-lifted (I hope I don't get in trouble) but I just wanted to share.

"Hold To The Rod, The Iron Rod" by James Christensen
LDSArt.com

Hold to the rod, the iron rod;
'Tis strong, and bright, and true.
The iron rod is the word of God;
’Twill safely guide us through.
¯ Joseph L. Townsend, The Iron Rod, LDS Hymns, no. 274

As we walk the road of life, we tend to collect things that make us feel safer and more sure of ourselves. These may be material possessions, titles or responsibilities, but in the end they amount to the same thing: a fleeting and superficial sense of security. It is only by holding fast to our beliefs that we can navigate life with any confidence. The character in Hold to the Rod finds himself so burdened with the mundane objects he has collected that, while he hopefully eyes the rod, he cannot reach up to hold it for fear of losing something else. The man has become little more than a vehicle for his adornments. He demonstrates that what is truly important is keeping sight of our true belief and faith, that they alone will guide us through.

HOW TO INSTALL A HUSBAND

2008-09-15T20:00:00.000-07:00

So my husband read my birthday post about him, hugged and kissed me and said, "Thank you. I don't deserve you." Then a little later he said, "Um, I just want to say, your post about me sounds like a eulogy. Kind of disconcerting to read my own eulogy."

Crap! Why does he have to say that? Now I'm all discombobulated. The superstitious cells in my brain are going haywire. I yelled to my brain cells, and to my husband, "Not a eulogy! A tribute!" Sheesh! Well, that's effectively the end of my "career" as a serious writer. I'm sticking to who I really am: silly and shallow (Ouch! I did think I had a serious, profound side you know) Anyway, since we're talking about husbands here, I thought it is only fitting to publish this post I drafted a month ago but forgot about.

A few weeks ago the following was passed around at the office via e-mail. It generated a lot of laughter that went from cubicle to cubicle and from office to office. I myself thought it was darn amusing. Amusing enough to post on my blog, although I mUsT say it doesn't apply to my honey-bunny because he is like he BeSt eternal companion ever :-) and as the beautiful but much maligned former Miss Teen North Carolina would probably say (I do sincerely feel bad for her but I can't help myself!), "I personally believe" my husband being a non alcohol drinking LDS man, make the references to Happy Hour, Beer and "such as" non-applicable. Also references to the mother-in-law, non-applicable as well, because Mom is Mother-In-Law of the Year, every year. Truly. She even hinted that I'm on the will or something generous like that :-). But just in case you will find some application, please read, laugh and maybe learn. I especially like the advise on cooking which I'm not good at. As for hot lingerie--- well, maybe there I have skills. Waaah, too much information!

Go on now and read on...

INSTALLING A HUSBAND

Dear Tech Support,

A few years ago I upgraded from Boyfriend 5.0 to Husband 1.0 and noticed a distinct slow down in overall system performance, particularly in the flower and jewelry applications, which operated flawlessly under Boyfriend 5.0.

In addition, Husband 1.0 uninstalled many other valuable programs, such as Romance 9.5 and Personal Attention 6.5 and then installed undesirable programs such as NBA 5.0, NFL 3.0 and Golf Clubs 4.1. Conversation 8.0 no longer runs, and Housecleaning 2.6 simply crashes the system. I've tried running Nagging 5.3 to fix these problems, but to no avail.

What can I do?

Signed,
Desperate

DEAR DESPERATE,

First keep in mind, Boyfriend 5.0 is an Entertainment Package, while Husband 1.0 is an operating system. Please enter command: ithoughtyoulovedme.html and try to download Tears 6.2 and don't forget to install the Guilt 3.0 update. If that application works as designed, Husband 1.0 should then automatically run the applications Jewelry 2.0 and Flowers 3.5.

But remember, overuse of the above application can cause Husband 1.0 to default to Grumpy Silence 2.5, Happy Hour 7.0 or Beer 6.1. Please note that Beer 6.1 is a very bad program that will download the Snoring Loudly Beta. Whatever you do, DO NOT install Mother-In-Law 1.0 (it runs a virus in the background that will eventually seize control of all your system resources.) Also do not attempt to reinstall Boyfriend 5.0 program. These are unsupported applications and will crash Husband 1.0.

In summary, Husband 1.0 is a great program, but it does have limited memory and cannot learn new applications quickly. You might consider buying additional software to improve memory and performance. We recommend Cooking 3.0 and Hot Lingerie 7.7.

Good Luck,
Tech Support

I Love My Birthday Boy!

2008-09-12T01:31:00.000-07:00

8 month old Alan with his Mommy

I had big plans for my post on my husband’s birthday. I was going to write a fun and witty post filled with hilarious anecdotes about my "honey-buns" :-). Instead I am slowly picking at the keyboard, at a loss for words to express how I feel about this wonderful man. I am so thankful for him, and when I think of how rich and joyful my life is because of him my heart becomes so full that I become inarticulate. So forgive me if instead of a fun and funny post you'll get a sappy, ooey-gooey tribute to my "honey-bunny". I just want to tell the world all about this adorable man who for some inexplicable reason happens to love me back.

First Born In The Wilderness

Alan was born about a year after his Mom and Dad and older siblings immigrated to the U.S. from Great Britain. His parents, thus, fondly call him now and again, their “firstborn in the wilderness” :-). He is the first American citizen in his family, but other than that Alan grew up as just another Utah Mormon boy. And although he can't claim forbears among Mormon pioneers, he can still lay claim to ancestry rich in the pioneering tradition of the gospel. He is a 4th generation Mormon descended from faithful latter-day saints in the British Isles. His Grampa Marsden, a convert, served as a branch president in the church in England. His Grampa Ditty, was also a branch president in Belfast, and served the Irish saints during the war years (World War 2). He was interviewed for a BYU student thesis on the history of the church in Ireland and eventually that interview was included in the church's Oral History Program, and a copy of which is in the church archives. Grampa Ditty also had the solemn privilege of giving the benediction at the dedication of the London Temple. Alan's parents raised him in this tradition of faith. How blessed I am to be married to a man shaped by and nurtured in the faith of his parents and grandparents.

Placid Baby, Boy With A Voice

Alan, according to his Mom, was a "placid baby.” He would sleep or sit quietly without fussing and would stay content even through long church meetings. It must have been a blessing to Mom and Dad to have this quiet, fuss-free child during a time when they faced the challenges of surviving in a new country. However, as the years passed, and his parents settled into their new home, this “placid baby”, this quiet boy, found his voice. Literally! And, oh, my, did he sound like a big choo-choo train! Alan’s brothers and sisters tell tales of how as a boy Alan would cry so loudly and forcefully it would send his Mom running for fear that he had lost a limb or is about to die, when in actuality it was just because someone took a toy from him or harmlessly poked him. Still that "placid" baby grew up to be a “placid” man, a reserved and laid-back, fun and fuss-free husband and daddy. But now and again, the little boy with the big choo-choo train voice comes out. Oh, yes siree Bob! Don’t get me wrong. Alan is not a chronic yeller, but when he does yell---wooo! That voice! The power of it! It’s like Moses'. It can shake the earth and part the Red Sea. Or at least make head-strong children obey. Through the years, people tell us what good, well-behaved kids we have, and truly they are. So I just smile and say thank you because it’s too complicated to explain how having a Dad who is 6’1”, 200+ pounds, and has the vocal power of thunder does wonders on children's behavior. It is so much more effective than either spanking (which I thought we didn’t do but daughter pointed out that yes indeed she was spanked!) or enlightened warm-and-fuzzy parenting (which I definitely know we don’t do and daughter doesn't disagree).

The Voice of Viking Probe

The same voice that sounded false alarms for his Mom, and has kept our children in line and out of trouble, also made Alan “famous” in high school. Around campus at Viewmont High he was known as the Voice of Viking Probe. He was the star of the TV and Radio class. He did his high school’s daily announcements, and produced as well as created TV and Radio spots for school events. If you went to Viewmont High back then and didn’t know what Alan looked like you would at least know what he sounded like. Even if you didn’t recognize his face, you would recognize his voice. Years later, after we met and got engaged he told me that someday I will “hear his voice soar through the skies of St. George (Utah)”. No, he was not going to go to St. George and yell like a choo-choo train, silly. He meant he was going to be a DJ. My husband is a frustrated DJ! Don’t be surprised if when we retire we end up in St. George and instead of being a greeter at Walmart he will try to be a 70 year old disc jockey.

Alan, the high school grad, and his Dad

Well-Rounded and Multi-Talented

Alan’s creative talent in broadcast media is not the only distinctive thing about him. All his life he seems to strive to stand out from the pack. Perhaps it is a classic case of a middle child breaking away to get recognition. Or perhaps it is just an expression of the personality he was born with. But for whatever reason, Alan dared and dares to do things. And he always does everything so well and makes it seem effortless. When he was in a swim meet when he was 9 he won a bronze medal. When he was in junior high he played the French Horn in the school band, and was always first chair even though he never practiced. He quit only because in his immaturity he didn’t think it was cool to be in band. In high school he wanted to do things his siblings didn’t do. He played golf, ran cross country, played soccer and refereed children’s community soccer games. He was in stage crew, and TV and Radio Productions and was so talented and valuable his teachers trusted him to have access to the theatre and production rooms anytime of day. He loved this privilege. On some nights instead of listening to his records at home in his room, he would walk back to school with his records and play them full-volume on the school sound system to a vast and empty high school auditorium as he sat back, and enjoyed his "domain".

Because of Bruce…

Not surprising, but nevertheless amazing, Alan’s first job out of high school was at KTVX Channel 4 in Salt Lake City. He worked there until he left to do missionary work for the LDS church. KTVX immediately hired him back after he completed his mission and returned home. At this point, it looked like Alan was going to make his career in TV productions. After we got married and had a child, however, he decided he wanted more for his family. So he went and got a degree in Broadcast Journalism from the University of Utah while now working full-time for KSL. It was while working at KSL that Alan, then a master control operator, boldly approached Spence Kinard (for those who remember him, then KSL news director) and asked Mr. Kinard to let him work the assignment desk in the news department. Not much later he proceeded to convince Mr. Kinard to put him, Alan, an unknown and inexperienced college student, on the air, to do news cut-ins before late night re-runs of M*A*S*H. Unheard of but guess what? Spence said "Yes" each time! Nothing ventured, nothing gained --- our family motto in action. Shortly after that, Bruce Lindsey, famous Utah anchorman, for those who know, and Alan’s anchorman idol, saw Alan on-air and told Alan he was a “natural” at anchoring. That was all Alan needed to hear. He was going to be a TV anchorman like his idol Bruce. And that’s how he ended up working in TV news. That’s why we left Utah so Alan can be a TV anchor. So now when things are great we give credit to Bruce. And when things are not so great and we are homesick for Utah we blame Bruce. It’s all because of Bruce Lindsey even 15 years later…and he doesn’t even know it because he probably doesn’t remember Alan, the once upon bright eyed young man who idolized him.

A Better “Mother” Than Me

Despite the demands of a job that requires him to be away from home every night, Alan is the best Dad there is. The kids have always felt close to their Dad. They are at the top of his priority list and they know it. He has given up many things and personal interests so he could spend as much time on the weekends with me and the kids to compensate for absence during week nights. I sometimes say, Alan is a better mother than I will ever be to my kids. He has always been the hands-on parent, the Daddy who willingly shared the 2 a.m. bottle feeding with me when they were babies, changed their diapers, read to them, cheered and took videos at their games or talent shows. He is pretty good at keeping track of doctor’s appointments and school activities. But most importantly, he is the parent who is better at expressing empathy, the Bill Clinton of Dads in a good way, the one who “feels their pain”. Our teen-age daughter would rather talk to Dad than Mom about her problems because Dad understands and empathizes. Mom (me), on the other hand tends to say, “I’m really sorry about your pain. But it’s the consequence of your choice so get up and snap out of it.” Not Dad. Dad has the tender touch.

Eternal Companion

At this point of the post if you made it this far you probaly can already tell I love a wonderful man. I love him for so many reasons and in so many ways. I love how he always takes care of me, and makes sure I get enough rest, and I get to do things I enjoy. I love that he teaches my children to honor me and to love me. I love the way he laughs. I love his crooked smile. I love that he always gets side tracked when he tells a story and turns a 5 minute tale into an epic adventure. I love that he likes stories about time machines, and space travel, and knows all about U.S. Government and history. I love how he pauses a DVD movie in the middle of a riveting scene to tell me how stupid and unrealistic the plot is and why (arrgh!) I love that he makes us big breakfast on weekends. I love that he tells me I’m beautiful even on days when I’m all raggedy and worn out. I love that he knows my thoughts and what I’m going to say seconds before I say it.

But I don’t just love him; I also truly admire him in so many ways. When he sets his heart on something he pursues it with the determination of a fighter. This placid middle-child is bold and courageous, and dares to step away from the herd and from the safe well-beaten path. He is not afraid to explore new places, literally and figuratively, and this trait has given me and our kids a life rich in the wonders of experiences. All the exploring does not always end up successfully, there’ve been many times when life gave us a stumble and a fall, but somehow we always just look at each other, hold hands, sigh and say, “Oh, well. No pain, no gain”. And off we get back on our feet, with him picking me up most of the time. I am so glad I have his hand to hold on for all time and eternity, because that is how long I am going to love him.

Happy Birthday, Honey-bunny!

The Blogger is Not In

2008-09-05T05:40:00.000-07:00

I will not be blogging for a few days.

I know --- what a disservice to Blogland, right? Afterall I'm such an astute blogger who deals with such poignant and relevant issues my voice will be missed. NOT! But I will miss you and blog-surfing and reading your posts. I am desperately attached to some of your blogs, I will surely be suffering from withdrawals. But we haven't seen my husband's family for a while and an uncle visiting from England is a great excuse to be with family this weekend, and if I can't give up blogging for that then I need rehab.

After Utah I'm headed straight to Silicon Valley for a 2 day budget presentation. That's when I sit in front of one of the Vice Presidents of my company and my other bosses to tell them I'm going to help make 30 million dollars for the company next year. Then I tell the VP specifically how it's going to get done each month of the year and he's going to sit there and ask me questions to make sure I know what I'm talking about because he's going to go back to his Boss with the numbers presented. The Boss will put all the numbers from the different regions together and send it to Wall Street and Wall Street will determine our stock value. And that will determine whether the bosses and owners get richer next year or not. I think that's how it goes anyway, who knows. All I do is make sure they make money although I don't make that much money myself. But whatever little I make we need because now we have a college student. So I'm not complaining that I have to stay away from blogging for awhile because of my job.

But it still ~~sucks~~ stinks, though. I just hope y'all still be around when I get back. See ya then!

I’M SAUCY AND GOT INVITED TO MERRIANNE’S PARTY

2008-09-04T01:01:00.000-07:00

I’m so feeling James Brown right now, feverishly dancing and singing:

“Whoa-oa-oa! I feel good, I knew that I would, now I feel good, I knew that I would, now! So good, so good, I got you!”

No. I didn’t win the lottery, didn’t inherit a large sum of money and didn’t get a major job promotion. Remember, I’m the girl with simple joys: family, friends, books, shopping without going into debt, and a little recognition, baby!

This week I got some “recognition” from some popular chicks in bloggy land, and who doesn’t like bloggy love? Come’on! Admit it. It doesn’t matter how mature, cool, collected, ~~snotty~~ and classy you are way deep down you like it when you get invited to sit at the cool table at least once. Don’t ya? Okay, maybe I’m just a geek. But I’m a pretty happy geek right now, because some bloggy love came my way.

Bloggy Love #1

I got listed on the super blog-network Mormon Mommy Blogs. Thanks, Sue (Navel Gazing At It's Finest) and MotherBoard (Crazyland)!

Okay, so I got listed. What’s the big freakin’ deal? Don’t they list everybody? Well, yes. But it’s where they listed me that surprised me and gave me this dorky smile on my face. They listed me under this category: SAUCY MOMS. Ah-hah-hah! Hah-hah!

Okay, I didn’t really know how exactly to take that at first. I had a frowny, wrinkled brow wondering what that meant. Then I saw the other blogs listed with me, and Wooo-hooo! There’s Mother Goose! Seriously! The woman is like a Pacific Island goddess! Check out her blog and photos of her kids! I think she 's empress of some beauty /humor/prowess/talent gene pool. And then there's Merriane! Let me put it this way I would be the Elphaba to her Galinda if you've seen the musical "Wicked". If you haven't seen it then what I'm trying to say is that she is the Miss Popular and Miss Congeniality of Blogland. So with these 2 hermanas for company I'm not complaining one bit about being in the Saucy category.

But just to be sure I went to my dictionary/thesaurus and collected all the synonyms for “SAUCY” because now that I’m saucy I want to know exactly what that is. And according to my thesaurus it is:

arch (mischievous), audacious (spirited), bold, ~~brash~~, ~~brazen~~, cheeky, ~~cocky~~, defiant, ~~disrespectful~~, flippant, forward, fresh, ~~impertinent~~, ~~impudent~~, ~~insolent~~, ~~malapert (obnoxious and arrogant)~~, pert (alert, naughty), ~~rude~~, sassy, and ~~smug,~~ --- Ah, never mind, let’s include smug.

Then I asked the husband, "Am I saucy?"

Husband: "Oh, yes!"

Bloggy Love #2

An award from the one and only Merrianne! Yes, the same Merrianne I talked about above. Beautiful, fun, and super nutty Merrianne. She’s also a prolific blogger. The woman blogs everyday! Sometimes a couple times a day even. How awesome is that? I’m lucky if I come up with material to post 2x or more a week. Merrianne on the other hand is oozing with creativity and ideas. Going to her blog is like going to a party! And it seems all of blogland loves Merrianne. So getting this chickie-blog award from her is like being invited to the popular party. So thanks for the bloggy love, Merianne!

“Whoa-oa-oa! I feel good, I knew that I would, nowI feel good, I knew that I would, now! So good, so good, I got you!”

Good Bye Summer, Hello TV Season

2008-09-02T22:30:00.000-07:00

Although we just celebrated the symbolic end of summer, the sun and sun worshippers don't seem to be worried just yet. It continues to be sunny and pleasant in our little corner of the world. But then this is California where the sun sticks around just a wee bit longer. We look forward to maybe a couple more months of warm weather when we can still grill dinner outdoors every night if we want to. Or continue to take the dog to the park to play fetch and romp around with the other dogs.

But eventually the rain will come. The first week of rain will be nice and welcome. The thirsty earth will open itself up to drink and cleanse itself of summer’s dust and grime. In the evenings I will find myself in my jammies wrapped up in a nice, warm comforter listening to the rain against the window. Although this time there will be no warm cup of Postum! Darn! I forgot about that. Hot chocolate will have to do. It will still be cozy and nice.

The rain, however, will inevitably ruin my mood because it will keep falling, and falling, and falling. There will be lots of talk of the levies in the valley breaking. The dog will have cabin-fever and be restless. The foyer will have mud streaks. The kids will be complaining about being bored. My curly hair will soak up the moisture and pouf up. It will get dreary fast. What's a soul to do? Well, we can always go up the Sierras and play in the snow if we feel like dealing with snow chains and bumper to bumper traffic on the way down. We’ve done that now and again.

But most nights it will be books and TV’s fall season for the not so winter-outdoorsy Me. Yeah! Perhaps you can help me this year. I need your input on what’s good out there. I know there’s a treasure trove that maybe I haven’t discovered or just ignored because of wrong notions or bad first impressions. So please leave me a comment and give me some suggestions. And just in case you are facing the same dilemma I will tell you the TV shows that I’ve been waiting for and also the books that I have enjoyed, in case you would find them mildly interesting. Just be warned, my taste in things can be a little odd. And edgy. But not quite too close to the edge that it will drop you right into hell :-)

Here are the TV Shows I liked last year and will most probably watch again this year (I kept it to 5, otherwise my children and dog will practically be motherless all season and will have to scrape me off from in front of the TV to get any dinner. So thank goodness for TiVo and DVR’s then I can watch when they’re fed and in bed!)

1. ELI STONE- My husband says I like bizarre shows. Maybe. I just don’t get into popular shows that are predictable and formulaic. I am fascinated by unique people in real life so, yes, I'm drawn to shows that are populated by quirky odd-balls. Eli Stone has a preposterous but riveting premise. Does Eli, the character, have prophetic visions or is it all brain aneurism? If you haven't yet try this one on for size. You might just like it.

2. HOUSE- I love, love, love Dr. House. So adorably infuriating and mean! And last year they had an LDS character that House constantly harassed. It was hilarious.
3. HEROES- I was addicted to this show. If I couldn’t TiVo any other show except one, this is the one. You’ll like it if you like dark, sci-fi stuff, but if you’re more into wholesome, princess breaking out into a song in the woods surrounded by birds, bunnies, and Bambi-stuff you will so not like this one.
4. UGLY BETTY – I love this show because I work with a bunch of Ammandas and Marks. It cracks me up that these exaggerated characters actually exist in real life and they’re in my world!
5. LOST – my son and husband’s favorite show. We bought all past episodes so far on DVD. Sometimes we have LOST marathons off-season. I’m getting a little tired of this show to be honest. Like com’on already! What’s the deal with the island? But my husband and son are still hooked so I’m still watching.

If I could do more than 5, I will squeeze in PUSHING DAISIES, SAMANTHA WHO, DIRTY, SEXY MONEY, and THE OFFICE …but that’s just darn too much TV for me.

Now for the books --- I usually read 2 types at the same time. One type is the I-just-want-an-enjoyable-book-that’s-easy-on-my-brain-cells type; and the other type is the it’s-good-to-exercise-my-brain-cells-and-actually-learn something type.

First type: THE TALE OF DESPEREAUX by Kate Di Camillo. At first I thought why should I read a "children's fairy tale"? But as it turned out my daughter (who is a voracious reader) and I fell in love with this book. I first learned about it from my ward’s RS book club (now debunked as we have lost members to the cooking club, the knitting club and the scrapbooking club. Okay, so I rolled my eyes, but just a bit. Those other clubs are good clubs, too. I mean it. Really. I'm just bummed they're more popular than the book club.) Anyway, I promise this is a fun little book. Inspiring, too. It will be in theatres this Christmas so read it before you watch the movie. Just click on the photo below for more about the book and movie.

Second type: THE LANGUAGE OF GOD. No, it’s not by an LDS author. It’s by the head of the Human Genome project, and one of the world’s leading scientists. He talks about how faith in God and faith in Science is harmonious, not conflicting. For me it was very comforting to read about how one of the world’s top scientists reconciled his faith with science. Although I like books by general authorities, one would expect faith from them. Its is more fascinating when it's from a real scientist.

Oh, yeah, by the way, this one doesn't belong to any of the above types and I normally don't do plugs or commercials on my blog, but I love this lady's blog. She's a brilliant writer and blogger as far as I'm concerned, and she has a book. I've reviewed the book and it's on my gift idea list for the holidays. Yes, it's that good. So check out Kimberly and her book at Temporary?Insanity.

Whatever, you choose to do to deal with sun-withdrawals this fall and winter have fun. And don’t forget to leave me with your suggestions. I'm serious.

SHOW AND TELL FRIDAY

2008-08-29T06:00:00.000-07:00

Meet My Little Women

I enjoyed Kelli's Show and Tell Friday last week so I decided to do it again this week. Last time some of the ladies showed their doll collections and I was loving it. I love dolls. I have several in my curio and around the house and some stored in my closet. My favorite are my Madame Alexander dolls, especially my Little Women collection. I didn't get them all at the same time, but my husband knew I wanted all of them so he got me one in the set for every special occasion he could use as an excuse to get me a present. (Yes, he is a thoughtful, loving man!)

I decided to collect Little Women because I love Louisa May Alcott's novel about the lives and loves of four sisters growing up during the American Civil War. That may sound odd, because I wasn't even born in America, and only had little knowledge of American history. However, I think the theme covered in the book is universal and transcends cultures. It is about family, relationships and overcoming weaknesses and obstacles to become better women. Well, at least that's my take on the novel.

So for this post, I took my little women out of the curio to get this "group" picture:

Beth, Amy, Marmee (the mom), Jo and Meg.

Those close to me will probably say that the personality and disposition I was born with most resemble Jo's: outspoken and bold, which got me in trouble a lot as a kid :-)

Here's my Jo:

The one I used to wish I could be like though was Amy: talented, pretty, cool, reserved and worldly. But I assume that's a pretty normal wish for a teen-age girl.

Here's my Amy:

My wise mother, however, tried her best to raise me to become more like Beth: quiet, docile, gentle and kind. And if truth be told, I do try to emulate and be more like Beth in my relationships. "Try" being the operative word :-)

Here's my Beth. She's my very first little women dolly:

When I really think about it, though, I believe I grew up to be more like Meg: responsible, dutiful, and capable. She's not quite as self-assured and accomplished as Jo, or as gentle and saintly as Beth, and didn't have a glamorous life like Amy. She married a poor tutor, had twins, and had a simple, practical life. But it was an anchored, happy life. And isn't "happiness" the bottom-line? The destination for all our strivings? In that sense, I'm fine being like Meg.

This is my Meg:

Last but not least, the heart of the home and presiding over the household while their father was gone to war, is Marmee, the Mom, who is charitable, nurturing and selfless. She confessed to Jo that she has a temper as volatile as Jo's, but learned to control it to avoid hurting herself and her loved ones. A true matriarch. Family comes before self.

Here's my Marmee:

I hope you enjoyed meeting my Little Women. You can tell I treasure them a lot. Of course, they're just dolls, to be enjoyed by the little girl in me, so mostly they sit in my curio. When I do want to make them come to life, then I watch the 1994 movie "Little Women" with Susan Sarandon, Kirsten Dunst and Wynona Ryder.

This is a good chick-flick/family movie if you are looking for one. Wholesome and inspiring.

HIGH SCHOOL TAG

2008-08-27T21:17:00.000-07:00

My sister-in-law Lesley tagged me with the high school tag. I didn't go to an American High School so this was interesting, but still fun.

1. Did you date someone from your school?

I went to a Catholic all-girls high school even though my family wasn't Catholic, and since I like boys not girls, then no, I didn't date anyone from my high school.
2. What kind of car did you drive?

99% of Filipino kids don't own cars. They ride the "jeepney" (reliable and ubiquitous public transportation) everywhere

3. Were you a party animal?

Ummm--well, I partied, but not the kind where people get wasted, but I always got punished by parents for defying curfew rules all the time sooo ---yes, I guess. I'm so glad what went around didn't come around on this one. My kids are soooo good.

4. Were you considered a flirt?

Sometimes, I guess. I didn't flirt with everyone. Just boys I needed something from --ha-ha!

5. Were you in band, orchestra, or choir?

No.

6. Were you a nerd?

Dictionary.com defines "nerd" as a stupid, irritating, ineffectual, or unattractive person. So, heck, no!

7. Were you on any varsity teams?

No.

8. Did you get suspended/expelled?

Yes. Long story, but summary goes like this: Mother forced me to accept scholarship to school for future scientists (nerd herd), tore me from my friends, and made me miserable. Big problem. To keep scholarship I had to maintain grades. Oh, easy fix! Skipped classes. Didn't do homework. Talked back to teachers. Got expelled. Mother enrolled me in school where friends went, after she whipped me, of course. The whipping was worth it. Yes, my kids are so much better children than me. I am grateful!!! And I honestly grew out of that rebellious stage pretty fast, although I can still be maturely mutinous now and again :-)

9. Can you still sing the fight song?

No. I don't remember fight songs. We sang hymns at Catholic school.

10. Who were your favorite teachers?

My Chemistry and Physics teachers.

11. Where did you sit during lunch?

In the lunchroom.

12. What was your school's full name?

It's a mouthful. The school I graduated from is the University of San Carlos Girls High School.

13. School mascot?

Filipino Catholic Schools in my time have saints not mascots.

14. If you could go back and do it again, would you?

No way!

15. What do you remember most about graduation?

We didn't wear cap and gown. Our class voted to wear identical white dresses, with 3/4 sleeves and a lacy high neck. A few of us spunky girls took off the lacy part to show off our necks and upper chest, and to see if the nuns would keep us from marching. One of my favorite nuns, just smiled at me and shook her head. "How do you solve a problem like Maria Victoria?"

16. Where did you go senior skip day?

That's not a tradition at my school.

17. Were you in any clubs?

Not till college. In high school there was no time for clubs. We had Citizens Army training every weekend, per Ferdinand Marcos. I grew up in Martial Law Philippines.

18. Have you gained some weight since then?

Uh-huh!

19. Who was your prom date?

No proms at my high school. We occasionally had joint socials with the Boys High School, if I remember right. But the whole class is required to attend. You can imagine how fun that was under the watchful eye of nuns and priests.

20. Are you planning on going to your 10 year reunion?

Didn't go and won't go to any reunions. 8,000 miles away and thousands of dollars for airfare. I'm not that nostalgic for high school.

I'm going to tag everybody who reads this and wants to play.

Annexed!

2008-08-26T21:00:00.000-07:00

Ever since my sisters-in-law encouraged me to start blogging early this year, I have repeatedly found myself not just posting, but also blog surfing. I’ve been drawn into total strangers’ blogs and have read with voyeuristic interest some of their posts on topics and people that are important to them. I found myself peeking into people’s lives and minds and seeing the world through their eyes. Interestingly, I find blog surfing more enjoyable than coming up with things to blog about. Perhaps it is because I am more of a reader than a true writer. The last time I wrote seriously was when I was editor-in-chief of my college paper zillions of years ago. And yet I have never stopped reading. I love reading, and I love knowing more about people and listening to their opinions on things. But "blog-stalking"??? At first I worried that there was something wrong with me. I asked myself why I was reading posts about other people’s kids, their cats or their great Aunt Myrtle and their latest artsy-craftsy projects. And I am not even an artsy-craftsy person! Didn’t I used to think I was too well-bred to be voyeuristic? What has happened to me?

Then I thought, maybe there is nothing wrong with me. Maybe I am totally normal and just as excited as someone who discovers new things, new possibilities, and a new frontier. My blog field trips have shown me that there is a world out there beyond my limited universe. As much as I'd like to think I am very well-rounded, well-informed, and unsheltered, the truth is before I discovered there is a blogosphere I lived within well-defined boundaries. My world consisted of family, friends, church, work, and my immediate community . It is a world of people who mostly think like me, people who I have a lot in common with. A well-insulated bubble. My main exposure to people who are very different from me were mostly through news, TV, books, brief travels, and superficial encounters at the grocery stores, the park, the mall or public events. After I started blogging, however, my education (or miseducation maybe?) of the world beyond became more interactive and intimate. I found a window into a world so diverse, so colorful it is infinitely fascinating. I don’t think I ever want to go back to my insulated bubble again.

Okay, I admit. There are times when blogging and blog-surfing are a ridiculous waste of time. Yes, there are many wonderful people out there, with wonderful posts, but maybe they just happen to post on the day I visit their blogs something not so relevant to me. And that’s okay. 99.99% of my posts I’m sure are irrelevant and uninteresting to 99.99% of the people who bothered to read them. But then, occasionally, I happen on a gem. I stumble on posts that are so well-written they don’t have to be relevant or profound to draw me in. Some posts are so funny they make me laugh, and bring artificial sunshine to a day spent in a drab office. Some posts are so honest and incisive they make me think and reflect on my own life and the kind of person that I am and sometimes I actually learn a lesson or two. Some are simply so well-written it’s like snacking on literary goodies, as opposed to “feasting” which is what I think I do when I read great books.

Well, very recently I found one of those blogosphere snack bars. Actually it’s more of a café really. It is a place where some good writers or people who appreciate well-written works congregate and partake. It’s BloggersAnnex.com. I just happen to stumble upon it on one of my blog field-trips. I stalked some of the members and was very impressed by their mastery of the written medium. I hesitantly asked to join and expected to be told,”No”. I imagined the blog-administrator checking out my blog, reading some of my posts and thinking, “No way! You are not even in our league", even though I told them when I asked to join that I’m joining mostly for the privilege of reading rather than being published. But Sunday night, I checked my e-mail, and there it was! My Bloggers Annex ID and Password. I was very pleased. Actually, I was more than pleased. If you check my side bar you’ll see this du-dat (is that a word?) which is linked to Bloggers Annex. I had a couple of these du-dats to choose from but picked this one because I get really cheesy when I’m excited.

So now I will be blog surfing the other members' blogs without feeling like a stalker because, ladies and gentlemen, I have been officially invited to the snack bar. I've been annexed!

Sunday Reflections

2008-08-24T00:00:00.000-07:00

I work for a large corporation with 514 sites across the world. We have a very diverse workforce, and perhaps to protect the company from any liability a very politically correct climate has been established at the office. Every couple of years or so managers sit through hours of seminar on diversity and political correctness in the workplace. We are instructed on what topics of conversation are appropriate or inappropriate and offensive. We call them the Red Zone (definite No-nos!), the Yellow Zone (you're close to dangerous territory so watch out) and the Green Zone (topics that are okay). Talking about race, nationality, gender issues, and religion, among other things are in the Red and Yellow zones. There isn't exactly an office police eavesdropping on our conversations, but managers are supposed to set the tone in the office, and I don't want any complaints to be filed against me by someone I unintentionally offend anyway, so I just stay away from those topics. I've noticed, however, that my discomfort about discussing my core beliefs has extended into my personal life and is even reflected on my blog. Lately that realization comes with a tinge of sadness. Although I am not one to wear my religion on my sleeve anyway, I think my value system and my religious beliefs are at the core of who I am. Those things should not be diluted for mass appeal and political correctness. So today I am going to change that as far as my blog is concerned. This is my blog. It is open to the public, yes, but it is still my personal space. On my personal space I determine what is in the Red Zone, the Yellow Zone, and the Green Zone. On my blog who I am inside is in the Green Zone.

This Sunday my thoughts are centered on the things represented by the following art work and hymn. I hope they will inspire you as much as they did me.

"Gethsemane" by Adam Abram (LDSArt.com)

I Stand All Amazed -

Show And Tell Friday

2008-08-22T00:01:00.000-07:00

Or My Husband Went To England and He Did Not Get Me A Stupid T-Shirt! Yeah!!!

Allow me to start with the "Tell" before the "Show"...

Many years ago, when our son was little, my husband came home from a trip and made our son cry. Not because he was a mean Daddy, but because of what he brought home for a present. Let me explain: my husband loves golf and the links at Pebble Beach is a special place in his book. Standing at the 18th hole, according to him, is like a Catholic meeting the Pope (Some of you probably are going "Huh?" My sentiments exactly). If you buy my husband a golf ball or a hat with the official logo of some historic P.G.A. tournament, you'll be the bomb. That's how much he likes golf.

Anyway, years ago he was returning home from a trip to Pebble Beach and called from the airport. He talked to his adoring boy who was then about 4 years old and told him he was bringing him a present from Pebble Beach. My son was very excited! "Mom," he chirped. "Daddy is bringing me a present from Pebble Beach! He says it's a surprise!" I imagine, his precious 4 year old mind got busy figuring out what toy Daddy would be bringing home. Daddy always buys the best toys so he was excited!

Well, hours later Daddy finally got home, and our son patiently waited for his present. When the moment came, my husband said in his dramatic TV anchorman voice, " I have a very special present for you." Then he pulled out from his suit case a youth-size official Pebble Beach Pro-Am tournament t-shirt. My son stared at the t-shirt and let out the most heart-broken wail ever heard this side of the border and cried like someone just punched him in the nose. "Daddy brought me a stupid t-shirt! Waaaaaahhhh!!!!" My husband gave me a perplexed look which I returned with an annoyed, how-could-you-look. To which he responded, "But it's an expensive Pro-Am Golf shirt from Pebble Beach!!! Do you know how hard I had to look for his size?" Well, do you know 4 year olds don't care about Pro-Am Golf tournaments and can care less that it's at Pebble Beach? Duh!

A trip to Toys R Us later, our boy was pacified, and Daddy and I finally saw the humor in the whole thing. How heart-breakingly disappointing to get a t-shirt (albeit it's an expensive official golf tournament shirt from Pebble Beach!) when you've been imagining getting Luke Skywalker's light saber, or a talking Darth Vader action figure. No wonder our son wailed as if someone just walloped him on the side of the head when he saw a frickin' t-shirt come out of Daddy's suitcase. The whole incident has become a running family joke that stuck with us all these years. If Daddy goes on a trip we say, "Maybe he'll bring me home a t-shirt! Woot-woo!" If someone says, "I wonder what I'm getting for my birthday (or Christmas)?" Someone is bound to say, "A t-shirt! Yeah!!!!" (or a bowling ball, but that's another post!) We think it's very funny. Not so much to my husband, but he's tried to be a good sport.

So just before he left for England, 3 weeks ago, my husband asked me if I have any special request for presents, and I sassily said, "A t-shirt!" And he said, "Ha-ha! Very funny. You might just get one." Then I thought a horrible thought. Maybe I would. He was after all going to Royal Birkdale site of the 2008 British Open, and even though he missed the Open by 3 weeks they might still have official t-shirts in the gift shop. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!

Well, of course, I didn't get a British Open t-shirt. My husband, bless his heart, is a quick learner. A wailing wife is not condusive to a happy life. And a trip to the jewelry store to buy a pacifier will cost a lot more than a trip to Toys R Us. So instead, while in England he got me:

A Wedgewood clock!

Which now sits among the other Wedgewood collectibles in my curio.

He also got me:

A Lilliput Lane cottage

To add to other Lilliput Lane stuff we've received and gotten through the years.

I also got a lot of British chocolate, but I didn't want to post a picture of those because--- well, "Oink! Oink!" is all there is to say. So all in all, my husband did a pretty good job this time. Nobody ended up wailing and crying. What a thoughtful honey I have!

Kreative Blogger Award

2008-08-19T23:32:00.000-07:00

This one is from my blog pal Carla. I like visiting her over at A Mellow Life Is A Good Life... Her blog-title says it all. I don't know how deserving I am of this award. I'm still finding my footing in this whole blogging thing. But I want to thank Carla for thinking of me. It's very sweet.

With this award I am supposed to share 6 things that make me happy before I pass the award along, and I definitely know what makes me happy!

Here are my six happy things:

1. My husband. Just having him around makes me happy. Just being in the same room with him gives me a feeling of well-being. I can't even have a really good mad-at-him moment and not talk to him because I miss him when I'm too mad to talk to him. I probably have missed out on a ton of "I'm sorry" flowers and jewelry through the years because I'm never mad at him long enough to make him sweat. I'm lame!

2. My son and daughter. I have to put them together into number 2, because one cannot be number 3. I love them equally, plus if one is #2 on this list and the other #3 I'll never hear the end of "You love so-and-so more than me!" :-) I am very proud of them both. Very competitive children, but funny, smart, well-adjusted, and good-hearted inspite of me rather than because of me.

3. Choosing the right. I don't always. But when I do I feel close to Heavenly Father, and that gives me a peaceful happy heart. I don't want to be accused of being hypocritical because saying this makes me sound so Molly Mormony, and we all know I'm soooo not, but it's true. I feel happiest when I feel like I'm in harmony with heaven.

4. My extended family. For reals. I love being the oldest of my siblings, and therefore THE Queen Bee of the hive even now that we're all adults. I also love my husband's family. I am definitely blessed in the in-law department.

5. My job. This one is a surprise even to me. I'm always saying how my job cheats me of personal time. But when I thought hard about it, I realize my job gives me a great sense of accomplishment and self-worth. It gives me an identity separate from my other roles and for some reason that's important to me.

6. My favorite blogs. I started out as a hesitant blogger, but now I love blog-surfing. So many smart people out there. So many fun-loving, witty, introspective posts that make me smile, cry, think, but best of all laugh.

Now I'm going to hand this on over to three other "kreative" bloggers. It was hard to choose, but I choose these 3 because in the past month their blogs have put a smile on my face:

1. Merrianne-one of those bloggers that make me laugh all the time. She's a hot tamale and her posts are beautifully nutty! :-) She truly scatters sunshine in blogland.

2. Lisa- a talented writer (and she probably won't admit that, but she is!), and also very funny. The title of her blog alone (Is that a garage door on my ceiling?) says "Creative Blogger!" to me. So she deserves this award.

3. Wendy - she's taking a break right now for very personal reasons. I just want to recognize her for her intelligent, thoughtful posts. She can also be truly LOL hilarious. When she is ready this award is waiting for her.

Have fun and keep the award moving along!

1,2,3,4 ...All Accounted For

2008-08-17T22:26:00.000-07:00

Sunday night and I feel good. Life is back to normal.

My husband is on the computer in our room, downloading videos he took during his trip, and taking a short break to talk to his Mom on the phone. He's a little jet lagged but otherwise happy to be home. In a little while he said he'll go to bed.

My daughter is in her room instant messaging with her friends on her laptop, and talking on her cell phone to still more friends. You can't tell she's jet lagged at all. Ah, the strength and resilience of youth!

My son is in his room, playing his guitar. He's been pretty cheerful today. He's happy Dad is home. We all know he's not a talker, but I can tell. He's been checking on what Dad's doing several times today, and chatting with him. Believe me, he's not one to seek out conversation :-) Maybe he was getting tired of 2 weeks of Mom's femaleness and grateful to have Dad back to balance life out.

The dog-ie is on his "bed" in the game room, snoring. Looks like he's dreaming of our next weekly trip to the dog park, what else? Even he has been hanging out with Dad most of today.

I'm in the game room, too, on the computer checking on family blogs and other favorite blogs to see if anyone has a new post, and now writing this short post.

We're all upstairs. None of us doing anything special, or engaging in any family-togetherness activity. We're all just doing our normal individual Sunday stuff. The four of us and the dog all safe and sound under one roof. All accounted for.

My joys are simple. It doesn't take much to make me happy. And tonight I'm happy, and grateful. I have no new photos to show. No profound thought to post about. No funny story to share. I just really feel good that my family is all together again. That's all I want to tell the world in this short little post.

"Roots"

2008-08-14T22:49:00.000-07:00

This has been an emotional week for Alan and Tara. Especially for Alan. They went to Yorkshire and then flew to Belfast on Wednesday after a quick look around in Liverpool for Tara's "Beatles Experience" :-) Alan didn't really expect to be overwhelmed by emotions upon visiting for the very first time where his parents were born and raised, and where they met and started out life as a young couple. Alan being the first child born in America, or as his parents call him, their "first-born in the wilderness" :-) had never been to Great Britain until now. At times it was just too much for him and he couldn't help the lump in the throat and even tears. He wasn't there just as a tourist. He was in his parents' "home". I'm sure he'll try to put all those feelings and impressions into words for his parents and siblings when he returns.

Tara, whose trip this is by the way :-) is enjoying herself --- seeing England and Ireland with her Dad, meeting relatives from across the pond, and just soaking it all in. When we chatted on the phone I told her to make sure to get a picture of her at all the family "landmarks" because I think she might be the first grand-daughter to go to Belfast where Granma was a young girl, and she was like, "Mom, that's a little too intense to think about."

Here are the photos Alan uploaded this week. The little cottage at that place whose name I won't attempt to spell or pronounce is so picture-pretty, isn't it? All the captions are by Alan. If you don't like the fast slide show and want to look at the photos at your pace, just click at the bottom left where it says, "Roots" by Marivic, and that will take you to my photo album where you can click on the first photo an watch a larger slideshow at your own pace. (Mom discovered that this can be done. My amazing tech-savvy mother-in-law!)

I miss my honey and my baby girl very much and can't wait to give them a "big love" when they get home Saturday (yeah!), but I'm so grateful they have this chance to go to Britain. It made both Dad and Daughter very happy. I hope they both remember this was my idea and with it I've made a big deposit in the "emotional bank account". I should be able to make withdrawals and do pretty much anything I want without my husband and daughter complaining in the next, oh, year or so :-)

One and One Are Two

2008-08-13T00:57:00.000-07:00

Tagged by my sister-in-law Lesley:

2 Names you go by:
1. Wonder Woman (Only my husband does and CAN call me this please!)
2. Vicvic (my Dad's nickname for me that stuck so my whole family calls me this )

2 Things you are wearing right now:
1. sweat pants
2. SLC Winter Olympics t-shirt even though we're having the Summer Olympics. Go U!S!A!

2 Things you want badly at the moment:
1. My husband and daughter to come home because they've been in England/Ireland almost 2 weeks and I desperately miss them!
2. Personal Time Off (because it's budget presentation season at work and it's stressful!)

2 Things you did last night:
1. stayed in the office late (yuck!)
2. called overseas to talk to my honey (yeah!)

2 Things you ate today:
1. calamari
2. Greek food for dinner per His Majesty the prince son's request

2 People you last spoke to:
1. my son
2. my sister

2 Things you are doing today:
1. preparing for budget presentations ---numbers! numbers! numbers! Arrrgh!
2. waiting for more pictures, e-mails, and phone calls from Britain

2 Longest car rides:
1. Yuma, Arizona to Utah then back
2. home to the beach house

2 Favorite beverages:
1. Water
2. Guava Pineapple juice (and we're always running out because my kids' inhale the juice it seems)

I'm not required but I choose to tag 2 M's
1. Margie
2. Melissa
... and this tag came with this admonition "Please pass this to 2! Don't spoil the fun and keep it going!" So Hear! Hear!

Angel Lullaby

2008-08-09T20:00:00.000-07:00

Angel Lullaby - Carol Lynn Pearson - Lex De Azevedo

The song embedded above is “Angel Lullaby” from the ancient Mormon musical “My Turn On Earth” by Lex DeAzevedo. I am being cheesy and posting this song because it is very special to me. This song is the only song I am allowed to sing in my house. Yup. If you want an explanation of why this song then you might want to endure to the end of this rather lengthy post.

No one is going to arrest me or ship me off if I sing, but I choose not to because whenever I do my kids act like I am subjecting them to the most serious form of child abuse. At the very instant I start to form a musical note in my throat my teen-agers put their hands above their heads, and hide their faces behind their arms as if shielding themselves from a whip. Then they groan in honest agony as if their whole body is experiencing a hernia. Moans of “Mom, please!” punctuate the clear message: my singing causes pain. Sometimes when I refuse to accept the message, the tragedy of my lack of singing ability somehow turns into comedy proven by the fact that they start snorting from lack of air after trying so hard not to laugh so as not offend their mother. Too late by then.

But just because I can’t sing that doesn’t mean I am absolutely devoid of any musical instinct. Proof: I am very good at picking American Idol winners The only reason I can’t sing is actually quite sinister. Something very bad happens to musical notes as they travel from my brain to my vocal chords. Something inside me bangs them and dings them and scratches them so bad that they are hardly recognizable by the time they come out of my pipes. Very mysterious! Thus, I really can’t blame my children for groaning, or running out of the room or choking on their own spit from uncontrollable giggles when I sing.

HOWEVER, I recognize that despite my not so angelic voice I have many other talents that qualify me to be one of the really cool, beautiful people on earth. This is why in the pre-existence, it was decided that in order to keep me humble and have a shot at celestial glory, I would be sent to an earthly family of people who can sing, who then will be entrusted with the duty to constantly remind me that I can’t .

Here’s my family singing at a Ward Talent Show in 1977. My Dad was a Frank Sinatra sound-alike who was on the Stake Elders’ Quorum choir forever so he gets to be next to the microphone. Notice how they placed me away from the microphone and in-between my sisters to effectively drown me out?

This is a picture of the Cebu Philippines Stake Concert Choir from the early 80’s. Notice that my mother and sister were on it because they passed the audition. Notice that I’m not. I was assigned to be one of the Young Women usherettes at their concerts instead. Agonizingly insulting, but my mother nevertheless made me do it to learn humility.

Needless to say, my birth family was diligent in their divine calling of keeping me humble. HOWEVER, just in case that would not work at keeping me from being so full of my beautiful talented self I was also foreordained to marry into a family and give birth to children with musical talent oozing out of their ears and nostrils to drive home the fact that I am flawed and should not be lifted up in pride. Here’s a very brief summary of the talent overload I’m surrounded by.

Dad, Alan Sr., my father-in-law, is a musical icon in his community. For all the years I’ve known him he has performed at community and private events. Yes, he is that kind of talent, the kind that actually gets asked to sing and gets paid to do it. Once he even performed while accompanied on the piano by Lex DeAzevedo. Yes, The Lex DeAzevedo. The same Lex-man who wrote "Angel Lullaby" (how ironic, right?) This is the cover jacket of an album Dad recorded in 1977.

Lesley, my Super Woman sister-in-law, was in a band in the 80’s and also got paid to perform at social events. Although the band’s repertoire included ABBA songs I didn’t mind being related to Lesley because she has an awesome voice and she didn’t wear spandex to performances like the real ABBA. Lesley sings solos, and with groups and church choirs, as well as with Dad. This is Lesley and the singing group she recently retired from. I lifted this photo off her blog.

This is Mike and Andy’s band, “Endless Summer”. I also lifted this off Lesley’s blog. Mike (Lesley's husband) sings and plays the guitar and is a really great musician. And I’m not saying that just to get back in his good graces after I ticked him off by calling his PT Cruiser a gay car. (Sorry Mikey!) Andy, who is Lesley's son, is a great singer, too. He was Beast in the St George community production of Disney's Beauty and the Beast. Plus he is a genius on the piano! Lesley’s other kids are very musically talented as well, but I couldn’t find any photo of them performing. Sorry Jeff, Jeremy, Caitlin...

David, Hubby's baby brother, is also a singer and performs in community theatre musicals. He gets good reviews from the local paper which includes statements like, “Dave is a delight.” He is a delight of a brother-in-law and uncle alright. And definitely not shy about his talent. One of my kids’ most lasting memories of Uncle David is him belting out Pirates of Penzance at the pirate ship water-thingy at Cherry Hill.

Then, of course, there’s the honey-bunny husband of mine who sounds like Neil Diamond. He used to get asked to sing at social events including--- ready? A local beauty pageant! (He didn’t do it though.) Then he became a TV news anchor, and singing and sounding like Neil Diamond became conduct unbecoming. So now I'm the only girl who gets to have him sing “toot-sweets” in my ears! Mmmm-mmm!

My daughter, who acts like my singing contributes to global warming, is my resident singer. Our house would be very quiet without her. She sings all the time!!! She’s so good she’s had a lead role in her high school musical and was selected by the theatre director to represent her high school in regional Broadway Music festivals. She has sung solos at Sacrament meetings and had been asked to sing in various Young Women activities. I am so blessed to have a daughter who fills our home with song.
My son is the teen-ager who thinks having a mother who can’t sing is his humble-pie for being so good-looking. He has a good voice but refuses to sing publicly possibly for fear that my singing disability is a dormant gene that can strike anytime. But to compensate he is astounding on the guitar. You should have seen his Dad smile with genetic vindication when he heard girls scream “AJ is hot!” during a benefit concert where his amateur rock band performed. Here he is writing a song on the computer. Yes, he has written and performed his own music! With the Marsden clan's musical “talented-ness” I can go on forever with this list. Even though sis-in-law Lilian publicly denies she can sing, I know she carries the musical DNA. Her own son Taylor is in a rockin’ marching band for goodness sakes! Here he is marching on the 4th of July. I lifted this one from Lilian's blog.

Can you see how everyone related to this family somehow received a musical talent when it was being handed out in the pre-existence? SO HOW COULD I HAVE BEEN MISSED???? My theory is that because I can be such a diva, I probably acted up on the day they were handing out musical talent. Thinking I was too darn special to stand in line I probably went “Ministering Angel Ma’am, can you just please deliver my talent to my pre-mortal crib?” And that’s how I got my name forever erased from the musical-talent distribution list.

But it’s okay. Things worked out fine. Remember I said there’s a reason “Angel Lullaby” is on this post? When Tara and AJ were babies/toddlers/pre-schoolers (too young to judge anybody’s singing ability) this is the song I used to sing to them to soothe them and/or help them fall asleep. I used to tell them that the “angel friends” the song talks about are Ashleigh and Christopher , their cousin and brother who now live with Heavenly Father. They’re there to watch over Tara and AJ all night long. It always seemed to work. They peacefully fell asleep when I sang "Angel Lullaby".

These days Tara and AJ are almost “growed up” and more independent. They don’t need Mommy and their “angel friends” as much anymore to soothe them or reassure them. BUT now and again when things aren’t so good and the big, bad world is a bit too overwhelming, they still remember. So once in a while when I tip-toe into their rooms to make sure my almost grown-up babies are safe, I hear them in the dark quietly ask, “Mom, can you sing Angel Lullaby for me?” I always oblige after I choke back my tears.

My babies must know that of all the songs in the world I sing this one the best because with each note my heart is filled with love for them, and for Ashleigh and Christopher. Love makes up what I lack in skills. Someday when I’m old, and when their own babies are giving them grief for something they can’t do very well, I hope they’ll call me or come by now and then to say good night. Maybe even then I can still make things all okay with “Angel Lullaby”.

(By the way, I’m not kidding about this: Jake, our 120 pound yellow labrador retriever loves this song, too. When I sing along to other songs Jake just gives me that “what-the-heck!”-look and gets out of the way. When he hears me sing Angel Lullaby he acts like he wants me to scratch his ear, and then goes to sleep. I guess he knows he’s my baby, too.)

Break Time: A Fun Quiz While I Wait For More Pics From England

2008-08-08T21:41:00.000-07:00

WHAT YEAR DO YOU BELONG IN? I "blog-lifted" this quiz from Merrianne. I don't think she'll mind because she is a really nice chicka. I don't know her in person but I just can tell.

Any way this would be a fun break from posts about Daddy and Daughter's trip to Britain, as I wait for them to upload more photos to share. For those who want to know (family members), they are in Yokshire right now with Uncle Derek and Auntie Dorothy. To Mom and Dad, I talked to Alan on the phone tonight and he said he is at a loss for words to describe the beauty of the English countryside and I would just have to go there myself one day soon. Wednesday they leave for Northern Ireland before heading home to the U.S. next Saturday.

Back to the quiz: I took this quiz and I was thinking it would say I belong to the 50's cuz I'm so, you know, sweet and innocent, and traditional :-) Okay, okay, not really. But it said 1984--- ???? --- I was a sister missionary in 1984. I didn't even know what happened in the world in 1984 because when you are a missionary and you actually obey mission rules, and I sure did (honest!) you're not really in the world. So I took the same quiz over (because I have nothing better to do obviously) and now it said 1983, and still same description. Which if I have to be honest fits to the T my alter-ego (the one I try so hard to hide because it's really hard to fit in my professional and church world if I don't). I guess, an 18-month mission, and 20+ year happy marriage and kids can change you a lot, but still leave little bits and pieces of the silly younger person inside for silly blog quizzes to uncover :-) So here are my results. Go ahead and check out what year you belong in.

You Belong in 1983

Wild, over the top, and just a little bit cheesy. You're colorful at night - and successful during the day.

What Year Do You Belong In?

...And Even More ...

2008-08-08T01:05:00.000-07:00

For Granma, Grampa, Auntie Lesley, and Aunt Lilian, because they love England so much and they'd love to know Daddy and Daughter are thoroughly enjoying themselves. These photos are for you. ENJOY!

Still More Photos From London...

2008-08-06T23:55:00.000-07:00

Daddy and Daughter are having a wonderful time. I talk to them at least 2x a day. They give me the highlights of their day. One of yesterday's highlights for Tara was seeing a draft of "Jane Eyre" in Charlotte Bronte's very own handwriting. How cool is that!!! (Yes, we are a family of closet nerds. We watch the Discovery and History channels, and we love classic literature enough to make going to a library part of the itenirary while on an expensive trip to a foreign country. What can I say?) I truly am beginning to wish I went. But definitely when it's AJ's turn to go after his graduation, or even before then if the Marsdens have the chance and the money, I.AM.GOING. One of today's highlights was Windsor Castle. My husband says it blows the mind. The grandness of it! Of course, the little girl in Tara who loves Harry Potter had to find King's Cross Station (she started and was president of The Harry Potter Club back in grade school. Ha-ha! Isn't she just cute?) Also I am very pleased that my husband thought of having my daughter pose for a picture next to the statue of Queen Victoria. True story: my Grandma insisted my middle name should be Victoria after the British Queen. Why a little Filipino lady from Cebu, Philippines would be fascinated by a dead British queen enough to insist to name her grandchild after her beats me. It is what it is. But anyway, here are more photos of Daddy and daughter in London:

First Round of Photos From London

2008-08-05T07:25:00.000-07:00

Alan just uploaded their first round of photos from London on my web album. Here they are! Keep in mind they haven't received their luggage yet (long story!) when these photos were taken. My husband is cleaner-shaven than that! And my girl would not have worn mismatched clothing :-) But they look excited though, don't they?! Granma, just click pause at the bottom of the screen II if you want to look at a photo longer. I know you'll want to take a closer look at some of the backdrop :-) I'll send Web album invitations tonight so you can see the bigger version of these photos, but right now I'm late for work! :-)

Great Britain Here They Come!

2008-08-02T12:23:00.001-07:00

(I was going for the Union Jack effect with red, white, and blue font but now it's hurting my eyes. I don't know how to re-do without messing up my post. So sorry. User-error. But please do read on.)

Daddy and Daughter left for England today,

Saturday, August 2, 2008

Tara's high school graduation present from us was a trip to England and Northern Ireland. A chance to travel across the pond, and visit the birthplace of Grampa and Granma , and gain a deeper understanding and appreciation for her heritage. She needed a chaperone, so who could be the better choice than her Dad, the only child of Alan and Bea who have not been to the motherland ever. So this is really a trip for both of them. And if they bond deeper and create Daddy-Daughter memories to share forever then all the better. Today they left on their 2 week adventure.

Here's Alan talking to Mom/Granma on the phone as they waited to check in at the airport.

Here's where they are going to be staying in London for the first week or so of the trip. We have an employee family discount so it's not going to hurt our wallet as much as if I didn't have that perk.

They picked this hotel because it's close to West End Theatre. If you know our girl, you know she is into theatre, so while in London they are going to see the London production of "Wicked" (The L.A. production I took her to was awesome-awesome-awesome!!!!!) and also "Joseph and the Technicolor Dream Coat". While in London they are going to do all the touristy stuff like Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square, Westminster Abby, etc. Daddy has it planned to the hour and to the detail on paper including where to catch transportation and when (that's my Alan!)

After London, Daddy and daughter will travel to Wakefield to see Uncle Derek (Grampa's brother) and Auntie Dorothy. They'll take Daddy and daughter around to visit Grampa's boyhood world in Yorkshire. I'm going to not try listing places on the iterinary Alan left behind for me because I don't really know what I'm talking about and I don't want to seem stupid. While there they will visit and meet with their English relatives. Alan is very excited to see all these places that he heard his Dad fondly talk about all these years.

Tara has one request for this trip and that's to have the "Beatles experience" so after Yorkshire they are traveling to Liverpool so they can go see John's house, Paul's house, Penny Lane, Strawberry Field, etc.

Then it's off to Belfast, Northern Ireland to visit Granma's girlhood world. They will be staying with Barbara, Granma's niece, Alan's cousin. She asked Alan to bring her some Butterfingers. I thought that was really cute and interesting because we would never have imagined Butterfingers as an Irish treat of choice from America. Tara, whose name is the same name as the hill where Irish kings and queens ruled, is excited about walking where Granma walked as a girl and learning more about her Irish heritage.

I wish I could have gone with them. I miss them already. Alan and I have not even been apart an hour and we've already called each other several times on the phone. Over 20 years married and we've never been apart for more than a week. It's going to be rough for me in the next few days. To make matters worse AJ is gone to San Francsico with a friend's family to see a rock concert and I'm going to be alone. But as long as everyone is having a great time I'm fine (I'm such a martyr, ain't I?) Well, I guess I'll have the usual therapy when I'm feeling blue: shopping, sushi and a quiet night with a book...

By the way last night I showed Alan how to access my Picasa album on the web and download photos to my account so he can upload photos during his trip and I can post them here in case family wants to check in and see what they are upto in the next 2 weeks.

Stay tuned for more updates from Great Britain.