False Confidence

When I was emailing everyone I know to ask for their vote for the baby bump contest, I told Little Sis that I felt like I was running for class office again. I guess this attempt resembles my run for 10th grade class president, not 9th grade.

Yes my friends, I have experience in begging people to choose me over other contestants. In 9th grade, I ran for class president, and won! I won despite the fact that the popular kids didn't know I existed. I won because I was friends with all the little people. Great, now I'm offending my childhood friends by calling them little. But come on, you've got to know that we were known as the geeks, right? Well, we were. But I won anyway!

In 10th grade, I was confident that the people would call me to be their leader yet again. But alas, I was running against the hottest hottie in school... Zach Something. And man, was he sizzling! For my skit, my friends and I did a dance to La Cucaracha. Mr. Hottie Pants didn't prepare anything - he just showed his chisled features on camera and asked for votes. Vote we did. And my creativity was no match for his striking jaw line and dashing smile. I wouldn't be surprised if all my girlfriends voted for him instead of me. Heck, maybe I even voted for him! No one can be sure.

I should have learned from that experience never to run for anything again. I should have acknowledged my lack of popularity and allowed myself to morph into a wallflower. But no, I entered the radio contest. And I lost. And now, if you'll excuse me, I shall eat my feelings in the form of chocolate ice cream.

New Find Friday: Urban Decay Eyeshadow Primer Potion

I have a friend Jamie who works at Sephora. This is a very useful kind of friend, and I recommend that you all find a makeup expert friend immediately. I was complaining to her about how my eyeshadow always ends up creasing during the day, and she recommended that I go to Sephora immediately and purchase this magical product. So I did! And now, no ugly eyeshadow crease. Here's what Urban Decay has to say about it:

This miracle eyeshadow primer is unmatched by any other in the beauty industry! The genie in this bottle fulfills three wishes: eyeshadow that lasts, more vibrant and lasting color, and absolutely NO creasing. Apply Primer Potion to lids before shadow application. It dries down almost instantly (and invisibly), creating smooth lids that are super powered eyeshadow magnets.

My only warning is that you have little room for mistakes once this primer is on your lids. The first day I tried it, I accidentally glopped a bunch of mascara on my eyelid and I couldn't get it off. Seriously - this stuff has an iron grasp on anything you apply to your eyelids. It's magnificent, as long as you're not a makeup klutz.

Guest Blogger: Domenico Maiuri

The credit union Marketing Department is the place to be on Monday mornings. We have our weekly department meeting, during which we review progress from last week and our projects and schedules for the upcoming week. It has also become customary to report on our weekend happenings. The Marketing Director and I usually have boring stuff to report, like, "I weeded my garden," or "I fell asleep on the couch at 9:15 Saturday night." Fortunately, we have a third member of the marketing team, who happens to be single, and therefore, presents much more entertainment than the boring marrieds. I've asked him to share his Saturday night experience here with you, my friends. Enjoy!


Are you ready for this? Basically, what I’m asking is, do you have a full bladder right now?

This weekend, my two roommates and I decided to go out to the Salomon Center. {Editor’s note: the Salomon Center is a new entertainment hub in Ogden which has a bunch of restaurants, a Fat Cats bowling alley, Gold’s Gym, movie theater, vertical wind tunnel for indoor skydiving, and Flowrider indoor surf pool.} We went to Iggy’s and ordered some desserts, and when we were leaving, Spencer offered to pay for me to do the Flowrider. I figured, why not? If Spencer’s going to pay $30 for me to try this, I'll do it - whatever!

I asked the lady if I could do it in my clothes, but she said no because my jeans might damage the surface. So she said they had a lost & found and I might be able to find something in there. We went in the back and tore through the box, which held a a pair of girl's running shorts and bunch of little kids’ shorts. I tried on a couple of them, but they didn’t make it up past my thigh. It was akward because the lady wouldn't leave me alone with the valuable clothes. Finally at the bottom, we found a big pair of gold, XXL basketball shorts, no drawstring. So I stripped down and changed into these trunks.

There were at least 20 people in there – a bunch of high school kids, and a bunch of people watching at the tables, and people watching in the windows from Costa Vida & the movie theatre next door. Plus, there were TV screens that broadcast the Flowrider action live all through the nearby restaurants, gym, and bowling alley.

The right side of the Flowrider was for surfing, and the left side for boogie boarding. Everyone was over at the surfing side. Since the left side was empty, I went over there.

At first, I was just floating on the surface with the boogie board, which was kind of boring. So the lifeguard yelled, “Do a barrel roll!” So I tried a barrel roll. As I flipped to my back, I felt my shorts shoot down to my ankles. I spread my legs to try to catch them (probably not the best idea), but then they shot off my ankle. So there I was, butt naked with nothing but the boogie board to cover me, but it was no match for the 35 mph current. The board caught an edge in the water and flew away from me and over the wave! So I was flapping around naked in the water, exposing my backside and frontside over and over again, and I could see people laughing and calling their friends over to see.

I weighed so much that the wave wouldn’t push me over the top, so I was struggling at the top of the wave for about 10 long seconds. Finally, I had to force myself to hold still enough that, in slow motion, it pushed me over the top of the wave so I could retrieve my shorts which were pushed up against the wall.

Through his tears, Spencer said the $30 was worth it.



P.S. If you haven't voted for my baby bump yet, please click here and vote for photo #113. Voting ends Friday at noon.

My Fellow Americans

I call upon you today to ask for your vote.

I've entered a contest on 97.1 ZHT for a dream nursery from Babinski's! I'm already registered there, and I love, love, love their stuff. So how perfect would it be to get all of it for free? I am hereby shamelessly soliciting you, dear readers, to click here and vote for photo #113. You can vote once per email address, per computer, so if you have more than one email account and more than one computer (work/home), don't be shy. Vote with each one! You will receive an email message to verify your vote. Then, feel free to ask all of your family and friends for their votes. I'm serious. I am not too proud to beg. I'll do your laundry, I'll bake you a pie, I'll do whatever it takes!

Voting ends at noon on September 26th.

P.S. Photo by Jameson Quinn Photography. Isn't she fabulous? I mean Jamie, not the girl in the picture.

P.P.S. Did you vote yet?

The Agony and the Ecstasy

... of Lunch at the Mall

What do you do when you want to get out of the office for lunch, but you don't want to visit a drive-thru or sit down at a restaurant? You go to the mall!

On my quest for lunch today, I rode an emotional rollercoaster, as is bound to happen anytime one chooses the mall as her lunchtime venue:

High: The Expectant Mother parking spot, complete with a pink stork sign. Score! I've always resented the row of 17 unused handicap spots that line the entrance of any store or restaurant. It's payback time! I parked, grunted my way out of my car, and let my belly button lead the way into the mall entrance.

Low: Walking by 72 full-length mirrors on my way to the food court. The dress I'm wearing today is just a little on the short side, and shows the ever-widening juicy spot right above my knees. It's not easy to retain my state of denial when the evidence is staring back at me. Oh man, did I just say retain? Oh, the retaining...

High: Finding a coupla gems at Express. I bought 2 very cute shirts for a total of $26 with the help of a sale and a coupon. One shirt sports a zebra print! Who's frumpy now?

Low: Trying to avoid eye contact with the annoying kiosk guy, who was literally waving his arms up and down to get my attention. When I unwittingly glanced in his direction, he asked me to try a new fragrance/calling plan/who cares what he was selling. When I declined, he said, "Okay, can I ask you a question?" Oh no Mister. I know what you're trying to do and it's not going to work. My reply, "No thanks, I don't have time." It would have been more convincing if I were walking at my usual brisk pace instead of my thighs-rubbing-together-prego waddle.

High: Experiencing a new cuisine for lunch, thanks to a recommendation from my friend Sarah. I had never even noticed Greek Garden in the food court before, but I enjoyed a tasty gyro for my lunchtime meal.

Low: Being asked to pay $0.55 for a stinkin' refill of my wimpy-sized Fresca! Seriously? I can get a whole new can for $0.50; forget it. It's really too bad though. I consider sipping a fountain drink at my desk after lunch one of life's simple pleasures. Oh well, at least I had Chocolate Silk waiting for me in my mini fridge. (Have you tried it yet, my friends?)

Impatient Imp

I think the baby wants to come out. He keeps poking me in the side with his index finger. Okay, maybe it's an elbow or a foot, but it seems to say, "What's going on out there? I'm bored! Could you at least give me a magazine to read?"

The Need for Speed

What is it about high speeds that gives us such a thrill? Yesterday as I was on my way to work, I was finally able to get out from behind a slow(ish) driver and pass him (on the right, which is aggravating), and as I was speeding away, I felt myself take a deep, satisfying breath. It was as if I had just emerged from being held under water for three and a half seconds too long.

A couple weeks ago, I was babysitting Tim's (much faster) car while he was out of town. During that week, I learned something about myself: I should not be allowed to drive fast cars. At least, not anywhere besides the autobahn. As I was cruising down the highway with no one in front of me, I actually caught myself giggling.

And it's not just in the car... before getting knocked up, it was against my religion to walk for exercise. My mom always walks around her neighborhood with the "Walking Ladies" in the morning to stay in shape, but whenever I tried to walk for my workout, I ended up running instead. Why walk for 40 minutes when you can cover the same mileage in 20 by stepping up the pace? You get home faster, and let's face it, you look freakin hot! At least, in your own head. Don't ever watch yourself run in those mirrors at the gym. It's not just your spunky ponytail that bounces, you know.

So why are we in such a hurry? Why do higher speeds result in wider grins? Is this true for everyone? It must not be, as evidenced by my archenemy, Slow Guy in the left lane... and the Walking Ladies.

(Art from politecards.com)

Stay Classy San Diego!

I decided on the hospital in which Baby Bell will enter the world. Actually, the insurance company decided for me, which was very kind of them, don't you think? As I was reviewing the hospital's pamphlet, I made an amusing discovery. The name of the hospital gift shop is... The Classy Corner.


Score! Maybe I'll register there!

Identity Crisis Freakout Session

Last night, it hit me... What have we DONE? There is a person growing in my belly and we can't give it BACK! Up until yesterday, I've been alternately excited out of my mind or complacent about the whole thing. Then about 18 hours ago, the panic struck. What am I thinking? I can't be a Stay at Home Mom! I like Starbucks too much! How am I going to get my venti no whip hot chocolate on the way to work if I don't drive to work? There's no drive-thru in my hallway! How will I know how to act during the day if I'm not wearing heels? How will I introduce myself? I don't even like the term Stay at Home Mom, but I haven't found a suitable alternative.

Here's my problem: In theory, I believe that staying home with the kids is noble and selfless and beautiful. But now that my days as a working woman are numbered, I'm beginning to fear (correctly, I've heard) that this new career will be frustrating, mundane, and unglamorous. And it's not really taking care of the punk that I'm worried about. It's managing the household. Is it really possible to feel fulfilled when your primary responsibilities require no resume, no degree, no references?

Our society puts a lot of pressure on women and the choices they make about their families. McCain's running mate Sarah Palin has brought this issue to the forefront for many people. Can a woman contribute her time, talents, and energy to a career and still be a good mom? Can she be a leader in her community and still be the kind of leader that her kids need her to be to them? Can she volunteer to help people in need and still give her family a stable, happy home life?

All my life, I've planned to stay home with my kids. My mom stayed home with me and I had a wonderful childhood. I distinctly remember walking in the door from school and being greeted with the aroma of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. She volunteered for my school's PTA. We always had dinner together as a family. When I got a migraine, I knew she'd be available to pick me up and take care of me at home. I want to give my kids a stable, loving environment at home in order to help them develop the confidence and talents necessary to carry them through the rest of their lives. See? Doesn't that sound fabulous? But when it comes right down to it, I know that most of my time will be spent cleaning up messes, feeding little bellies, and being a chauffeur for the next 100 years.

Is it really possible to be satisfied with one's life as a Stay at Home Mom? (And is there a better title?)

Death with a Side of Fries

What would you eat for your last 3 meals on earth?

I know this question is a bit morbid. Who cares? Humor me. I was thinking about this while I was out on the road yesterday. I think it started when a motorcyclist nestled himself in my blind spot. Luckily, before I changed lanes, I did a triple-take. (Even while checking my blind spot, I couldn't decide if I was seeing the wrap on the window of the corporate vehicle I was driving, or another vehicle.) Anyway, that got me thinking about death. And I was hungry at the time. So, naturally, I was already thinking about food, which brings me back to my question of the day: What would you eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner the day before you kicked the bucket?

As for me...

Breakfast: Starbucks hot chocolate and a butter croissant. Not a Starbucks croissant or a Costco croissant. An actual French croissant, all crispy and chewy and flaky. Yum. Throw in a side of fresh fruit too. Merci!

Lunch: A tomato sandwich made with a big, juicy, garden-fresh tomato on whole wheat bread (toasted), with mayo, salt & pepper. And how about some sweet corn on the cob too, dripping with butter, and plenty of salt & pepper. To drink? I can't decide between a Diet Coke and chocolate Silk (soy milk). How about Diet Coke with the meal, and chocolate Silk for dessert? Yeah.

Dinner: For the appetizer, I'd like a Sunset Roll (crab & avacado topped with salmon sashimi, lemon, ponzu sauce & green onions), complete with a heavenly concoction of soy sauce, ginger & wasabi. Then, bring on the green curry with tofu! Yes, I realize I'm mixing Japanese and Thai in one meal. Is that a problem? I would like my green curry to be from Thai Garden in Holladay please. Then for dessert, two slices of pie. One lemon slice from Sandy's in Ogden, and one slice of my own dark chocolate pie.

 

Your turn!

My Willfully Erroneous Days Are Over!

All my life, I've tried to use a certain word that does not exist. I've repeatedly used it in school assignments, business letters, personal emails... and I wouldn't be surprised if you even found it somewhere on this blog. What word is that, you ask? I will tell you after I wander off on a brief tangent...

When I was in sixth grade, I walked up to Miss Wills to ask her how to spell a word. The word in question was alot. It just wasn't looking quite right on my paper. She informed me that there was no such word. In order to placate my outrage, she continued that the word I was trying to spell was in fact two words. Ever since that day, I have remembered to use the two-word term a lot when trying to say several, many, assorted, myriad, etc.

As I was saying, there is a word the true spelling of which I have refused to accept these 27 years. I have spurned to bend to the will of spell check, despite its repeated insistence of my inaccuracy. I've scoffed in the face of even my beloved companion, dictionary.com.

No more! From henceforth and forever, I vow to discontinue use of the nonexistent word eachother. Even now, spell check has harshly underlined the one-word term in bright red dashes seen only by me, the author. Curse you, spell check (shaking my fist)! You've finally worn me down. Like my friend a lot, which I learned how to spell correctly 16 years ago, I hereby vow to use two words when I mean to indicate that a relationship or an action is reciprocal among the members of the set referred to by the antecedent. (Thank you dictionary.com.) 

Enter a new era into my life during which I will use all words correctly to the best of my knowledge. Enter each other.

Labor Day

I am spending this Labor Day doing manual labor to prepare for my day of labor in December. Yes, I am in full-blown nesting mode. On Saturday, I finished cleaning out the baby's room. It was an empty room, complete with fresh vacuum tracks and clean baseboards. Sunday, Tim and I spent the day in Boise with his brother Matt, his partner in crime Julie, and their 4 year-old son James. James-O was generous enough to let us take off with all his old baby stuff. We made a haul! And when I say haul, I mean an entire U-Haul trailer stuffed full of primary-colored stuff. We've spent our morning cleaning it all off (since it had been sitting in storage for 4 years).

Our neighbors had a good laugh. Poor Tim. This is a pretty big blow to his ego.