The Test from Hell

I took my test, and it was so awful. I would rather have a tooth extracted with no Novocain than go through that again. Or a bone marrow biopsy. Or an ingrown toenail removed. Or a Barium enema. Or all of them done simultaneously. I don't ever want to take that stupid test again.

But I might have to...I think I bombed it.

I arrived to the Prometric Testing Center about a half hour early, so I flipped through some of my study materials and tried to quickly review some of the concepts (in my car). I walked in about 15 minutes before my scheduled time, and I felt fairly calm (no, I did not drink or pop any benzos, although in hindsight, that may have helped). I signed in, and they asked for 2 forms of identification. They had me put all of my stuff in a locker. They also had me empty out my pockets, and roll my jeans up to my calves. The lady waved a hand-held metal detector up and down my body. I wasn't throwing up or anything...So far so good.

The lady walked me into the testing section, where there were various computers and multiple intense-looking individuals already taking some test or other. There were also video cameras monitoring each person. The lady showed me my computer, and also held up some headphones and whispered, "These are for you to use if you need to block out the noise." I looked at her with confusion and said, "What noise?" (Seriously, it was so quiet that I thought I heard someone's stomach growl). She just laughed, and walked out.

I completed the tutorial, and then my test began. When the first question popped up, my heart instantly sank. It was about some obscure minority study done in the '90s. I guessed on that one, and hoped the second question would be better. But it wasn't. Out of the first 10 questions, there were 2 that only looked vaguely familiar. The good news is that my heart stopped sinking. The bad news: It was now pounded in my throat. I had this horrible feeling that all the study material I had studied for months was just WRONG. After question 12 or so, the questions began to transition into material that looked a bit more familiar, but by then, my palms were clenched, I was sweating, and my heart was pummeling out of my chest.

Sadly, even the questions I THOUGHT I knew were worded in such a way that two answers seemed correct, or none of the answers seemed correct. The test allows one to "mark" questions that they would like to review later. When I completed all 225 questions, I had 66 marked. I had only reviewed about 10 of them when I ran out of time. So yeah, I feel fairly certain I failed. I went home, locked myself in the bathroom, and cried. I was so depressed and anxious that night. All night, my brain kept ruminating over this damn test. My reaction to this was such a shock to me because I don't normally become this anxious over....anything. My Dad, husband, and Jodi all gave me very reassuring feedback, but nothing they said would resonate. I tried to sleep, but I kept spontaneously remembering questions and fighting the urge to look up the answers. At like...3am that night, I decided to cancel the dinner with Jodi and Kristyn, because I had decided I was too depressed to go, and I didn't want to bring them down.

When I woke up that morning, I was an exhausted mess. It was while I was curling my hair for work that I decided I simply needed to get over it. I even said out loud to my reflection in the mirror, "You aren't the only one who has taken this test before, so get over yourself." I figured I had already allowed myself approximately 14 hours to completely fall apart into a heaping pile of self pity, and now it was time to move on. I also decided NOT to cancel the dinner with Jodi and Kristyn.

And that's where I am at right now. I won't find out my score until the 5th or 6th of August, but I will be okay. If I failed the test, I will fork over $600 and take it again (it would be a different version, unfortunately, so any of the questions I retained are useless).

The good news: I don't have to study right now! I can actually write on this blog again. I can read a book. I can watch something on Netflix. I can go for a walk. I can parent my kids.

Just a random thing: During the dinner with Jodi and Kristyn, I found out an interesting fact about my sister that I never knew (this doesn't sound like a big thing, but when you are a twin who knows pretty much everything ABOUT your twin, it feels pretty cool to discover some novel fact). So the new thing is, my sister is "hard to sedate." This is what she was told by a doctor because she woke up in the MIDDLE of surgery. Jodi was knocked out under general anesthesia while surgeons were attempting to repair her vocal chord. Suddenly, she sits up and nonchalantly starts chattering away. The doctors experienced a moment of alarm, and quickly knocked her out again. When Jodi was told about it later, she had no memory of the incident.

House Munchers

We have termites! 

That exclamation mark is there to signify my dismay, not excitement, in case there was any question about that. 

We discovered them a few days ago.  Trin had tiny pot marks on her bathroom ceiling that were almost unnoticeable, but recently, a small tube of debris trickled down from one of the holes.  She smacked it with her shoe, and when it hit the floor, termites came running out.  She was thrilled about the discovery because she's a weird child who loves to study bugs, but I--on the other hand--not so thrilled.

After consulting an exterminator friend and watching some YouTube videos, I think we're going to try to take care of the problem ourselves.  But it's a huge undertaking, and there are quite a few risks, so we'll see.   It's not like the little suckers are going to digest our entire house tonight; we still have time to think about what we want to do. 

In other non-eusocial-insect-related news, we're going camping this weekend!  It was a complete spur of the moment decision, although since it's still five days away, I guess it's not that impromptu.  But basically we were at La Casita for lunch yesterday, and we ran into a whole bunch of people from the dojo.  They insisted that we go camping with them this Saturday.  There's somewhere around twenty-five of us going!  All of the kids are going to play paintball, so that should be a blast.  It's just an over-nighter, but I am SO excited.  The group we're going with is very lively and fun, and after the last few months of cold weather, I am more than ready to do something outside.

Oh, I bought a new rabbit on Saturday to keep Pumpkin company, but she somehow broke her leg.  She seems okay, but she only hops on three legs now.  The kids named her Jiggly Puff. 

Am I the only one who's growing super-fond of Otis??  I think Shan should do a whole series just about him.

This Week: The Good, the Bad, the Ugly

I am so, so, SO far behind on this blog.  I even went months without checking my stat counter, because I found myself no longer caring.  Today I finally logged in and was surprised to see over 220 hits from Palmdale.  I'm thinking that has to be some sort of glitch...does Palmdale even have 220 people?

Okay, so I'm going to break this down.  Here's this week's "good":

Last weekend we visited my stepsister's farm in Northern California.  That was awesome.  Her and her husband farm walnuts, cherries, and tomatoes; they have so much acreage that I can't even tell where it ends.  They live in a small house that is over 100 years old and is simply adorable.  She's pregnant with twin girls, so we were actually there for her baby shower.  Her baby shower ended up being huge (over 100 women) with the atmosphere of a classy wedding reception...a far cry from your typical pin-the-diaper-on-the-baby type shower. 

Maybe it's because I'm a twin myself, but I think I got a little excited with the prospect of my stepsister having twins.  I don't make gifts EVER (unless it's scrapbooks or paintings); I'm really not a crafty person.  But I wanted to do something cute for the twins, so with the help of my sister-in-law, I made these outfits:

These are completely impractical, but I don't care!  I officially want twin baby girls myself now so I can dress them up in these.

Another good from this week is I have a student, Johnston, who is painfully shy in my classroom, to the point where he will absolutely shut down if I try to get him to read outloud or respond to a question.  The counseling department, after assessing him, finally told me to let him off the hook for sharing outloud and any other verbal presentations.  It's just way too traumatic for him.  But I've been working really hard with him this year, trying to guide him into being more comfortable talking in front of people.  Every step of the way I let him know that I wasn't going to push him, but I wanted him to know that I believed he was capable of expressing his thoughts outloud, and that others would appreciate what he had to contribute.  Well today Johnston did a full two minute presentation in front of the class!  I was so blown away and had to try not to cry.  He actually volunteered to talk for his group, and I could see him shaking with fear, but after awhile he started smiling and laughing.  He was amazing.  I've never once heard his voice that loud and clear before, and it was the most words I have heard him utter this entire school year.  Before he left class, I told him, "Johnston, you made my heart sing today," and he was grinning from ear-to-ear.

The bad:

My coworkers--the ones I have the closest relationships with, are dropping like flies.  Every day I eat lunch with my collegues Niecy, Brad, Bev, and Mr. Moore.  Or I used to.  Niecy has been out for about half of the school year now due to her health issues.  Brad (previously dubbed "Mr. A")--the teacher whose shoulder I cried on my first year of teaching, who talked me into getting a master's degree, who taught me how to play three-card-poker at an Indian Casino, who taught me how to ski, who carried me home when I was drunk--left our school last week to pursue a new career as a speech pathologist.  That one hit me hard.  I could write an entire post just on this, but our initial e-mails to each other sum it up well enough:

Me:  Oh my god, I just read the bulletin and got a cold chill. You're leaving us? No Brad, no!!! 

(Okay, I'll work on being more supportive). 

 

Brad:  Lol... I love you too.  You have been one of my favorite peeps since I got here... love you and your husband.  You are both good people!   The kids love your joy and enthusiasm as well... it shows every day. 

After that, crying and temper tantrums ensued (he cried, I threw tantrums). 

In addition to that, Mr. Moore, my onery lunch buddy who I just adore, is retiring at the end of this year.  So I have only three short months left of his teasing me and always thinking I'm crazy.  Bev, our quirky music teacher, will still be here next year, but her prep period follows lunch, so she doesn't join us until the last ten minutes or so. 

I'm not a person who likes change, and I hate it that the people I care about are disappearing little by little from my life.

The ugly:

I just got the news today that a friend from high school died.  I went to his facebook wall after work, and it made me sick to my stomach.  I know it's just a personal thing, but I hate how people are writing "R.I.P. Ed" all over his wall as if it were no different than plastering birthday wishes; as if he can actually read them.  They're also writing stuff like "You were a good person" and "I'll miss you."  Again, as if he can read them.  That's a new low...death itself being cheapened by social networking.  Way to go facebook.   

This day sucks in other ways, but I've written enough for now. 

I'm stuck on sappy love songs right now.  This one isn't exactly "pretty," but it still moves the hell out of me.
 

 

Mines, Breweries, & Burning Pianos

I had intended to get on here several days ago to talk about our New Year’s Eve, but Matt and Alana gave me their cold (thanks guys) and it has been kicking my a#$ for four days straight. Two nights ago I actually broke down and took some NyQuil. It gave me the worst hangover I have ever experienced. I’m changing the slogan to "NyQuil. The night-time sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head, fever, so- you-can-rest but feel like a zombie whose head is going to explode the next morning medicine.” I’m still all sniffly today (it’s so sexy), but the fuzziness in my brain has cleared enough for me to write at least a short, mediocre post.

So last weekend we visited Matt and Alana up in northern California. We left late Friday afternoon and drove for about six hours before stopping for the night. The whole stopping for a motel thing was a funny ordeal, because Shan had recently freaked us out with a creepy story about a wealthy man in the 1800’s who created a “Murder Hotel” (similar to the Winchester Mystery House, but with victims). Given the late hour and unfamiliar geography, every motel we stopped at from Clint’s viewpoint looked like a modern Murder Hotel, and he was like, “Nope, not this one. No on that one too. Oh, hell no.” After a dozen of these, I'm like, "Holy geez I don’t care where we stop, as long as I can take a shower,” and Clint starts reenacting horror movie scenes in which the hapless blond bimbo is butchered in the shower, to which I say, “Fine with me! As long as the water’s good and hot!” We eventually stopped at the Motel 6, which was gated, well-lit, and multi-storied, thus gleaning Clint’s approval (apparently having only one story immediately puts a motel into the ominously evil category, something you won’t find under typical Yelp reviews). In the end I got to take my heavenly, steamy, chainsaw-free shower, and we both lived happily ever after.

Great, I just spent a long paragraph discussing our journey to Motel 6, which sucks because I haven’t even dived into our official trip yet. Okay, the rest of this needs to move faster. Summary version, here we go:

Saturday morning we arrived to Matt and Alana’s house. They live on—oh damn—I want to give their street name, because it’s so funny. But that would be a huge violation of privacy, so we’ll just say it’s equivalent to living on Hillbilly Lane. Their yard is beyond awesome. They’re home is surrounded by trees and shrubs and nature, as in real nature (we saw three deers!), not stink bugs and tumbleweeds. Spellcheck is bickering at me because the plural for ‘deer’ isn’t supposed to have an ‘s’ on it, but I can’t stand it the other way, so I’m leaving it ‘deers’ (there it goes again).

Oh my goodness this summary version is NOT happening. You know what? Let’s just skip to some pictures. That seems safer than me writing.

Entrance to an old gold mine at the back of the Cosmic Cafe

 

 

Dining area within the mine (there were NO customers! Granted it was late, but how is this place not a local hangout?)

 



Clint and me in the mine

  

Remnants of an old brewery

 

The sign said "No Trespassing," which is like telling a two year-old "Don't touch that."

  

We stayed here in the Cary Hotel, a 157 year-old 'haunted' hotel that boasts "the second-oldest working elevator on this side of the Mississippi."  The kids and I rode the elevator every single time...you have to slide your own caged-door shut, and it has no concept of a smooth ride.  Technically only two riders are allowed at a time, but we figured the weight between us three was about the same as two adults.  The room we stayed in was a suite, so it was like a quaint, old-fashioned little apartment complete with a kitchenette.  I never saw any haunts, but there were a lot of things that went bump in the night.  It didn't help that our room was right next to the archaic elevator.  Okay, this is a really long caption for one photo.  One more thing, we had to walk through this really creepy dark alley every night to get into our hotel.  And there was a place right across the street called "Hang Town," the historic site where people were actually hanged.  Oh, oh, one more thing! (last one, I swear), the hotel clerk behind the counter actually said "Checking in?" in a creepy Twilight Zone-type voice when we first arrived.  Okay: end caption.    

 

Elijah, Trin and me

Replica of the Sutter Sawmill at Coloma (gold-discovery site in California)

 

 

The kids checking out a well

  

Elijah trapped in the well. But not long enough. 

 

Relaxing around a bon fire at Matt and Alana's place, waiting for the countdown.  Matt and Clint chopped up an old piano to use as fodder for our fire--you can see the keys burning on the right-hand side. It was like a Shakespearean tragedy.  On the bright-side, Matt saved all of the piano's strings, which everyone dubbed the Hell Harp because the music it produced makes a perfect sound-track for the Murder Hotel. 

  

Clint and I

 

Thought I'd end with a picture that took the reader away from Hell Harps and Murder Hotels.

 

During the countdown, several shotguns in the area were fired (including Matt's), something I'm not used to in SoCal.  And a weird siren went off for a long time.  It sounded exactly like an air raid siren.  After awhile, we were jokingly wondering, "Should we be bunkering down or something?"  Clint thinks it must have been an antique fire truck siren. 

 

Overall, I enjoyed the enthusiasm of this particular New Year's Eve, and we had a great transition into 2013.  



Personalized Dishes

I have nothing to say right now but it's almost 2:00 a.m and I'm having a nice little bout of insomnia, so I thought I'd get on here and try to type some sleepiness into my body (I don't think I'm making sense).  Plus I want to bump my last post down.  I don't know why, but I don't like it when holiday posts sit on the top of my blog too long.  Maybe it's because everyone writes about their happy Christmases and it just gets old and cliché, like "Okay, we get it, you had a nice holiday and your life rocks, yada yada...." Hey, I do it too. 

My dishwasher broke a couple of weeks ago.  It actually broke the day after my friend Kristyn's dishwasher miraculously started working, so I think her dishwasher somehow sucked the life out of mine.  Granted hers lives in Texas and mine lives in California, but since we're talking about magical life-sucking appliances anyway, I don't think the geographical distance matters.  So Clint's solution to a broken dishwasher?  Pack up all of our dishes.  But leave one of everything for each person.  One cup, one fork, etc.  AND use a permanent marker to write our names on our assigned dish.  Basically if you want to actually eat your apple sauce with a spoon, you better be damned sure that your spoon is clean or else your shit out of luck.  And don't make the mistake of using someone else's stuff...I used Trin's fork the other day and never heard the end of it.  I'd love to say all of this is a temporary thing, but I don't view a universe in which I will be willing to buy a new dishwasher anytime soon.  I hate buying appliances.  The thought of spending all that money for something that just blends into your house makes me cringe.  Maybe if our current dishwasher was like pea green or something, I'd be excited to replace it.  But our current dishwasher is a very nice stainless steel model.  Now it's a very nice stainless steel dish rack.  Well, if we had more than four forks to put in it, anyway. 

My laptop still won't let me respond to comments, which is really getting on my nerves.  My home computer does, but every time I'm home, the home computer is always being horded by the hubby and kids--pretty much because WoW is downloaded on that computer and they're all complete addicts. 

Tomorrow afternoon we're leaving to go up north.  I can't wait.  I absolutely love road trips.  I can be in a car all day long watching the scenery fly by...I'm like a content labrador.  But I'm also really excited to spend time with Matt and Alana.  The only downfall is I know it's going to feel a little strange ringing in the new year without my sis and all her kids. 

I'm going to eat some peanut butter now and head to bed. 

Oh, it's only when I'm sleep-deprived that I compare myself with a dog.

"Downright Giddy"

Somehow Christmas Eve is tomorrow morning, and we are so unprepared.  Tomorrow we will have to finish our shopping, which should be mayhem at its finest.  I personally don't mind last minute shopping, but Clint starts wigging out when he has to deal with crowds.  I still remember being a little girl and running around Wal-Mart at 2:00 a.m with my mom on Christmas Eve (back when they used to be open 24 hours), trying to find socks for Grandpa and stocking stuffers for my dad.  It was chaotic yet fun; I think because my mom always had a sense of humor about it.  And there's almost a camaraderie between you and the other shoppers, like "Hey, so you're crappy procrastination tendencies landed you here in the pits of hell on Christmas Eve too."

Christmas Eve with my inlaws is at our house again this year.  It will be the usual pajama party with breakfast served in lieu of dinner.  On Christmas morning, we will do our own little family-thing in the morning, and then head over to my parents house.  Again, it's all the usual stuff, but I am so, so excited.  For all of it; Christmas Eve and Christmas day.  The best (and laziest) way I can explain it is simply by quoting Kristyn in one of her recent posts:

I can’t believe it’s almost Christmas! I’m like a little kid, I love all the lights, the tree, and the pretty, colorfully wrapped gifts! I even enjoy some of the music and movies. I feel downright giddy that the day’s nearly here.... (click to view full post).   

That pretty much sums up how I feel.  I never outgrew my childhood excitement over Christmas, and I never plan to.

I am bummed out that I never sent out Christmas cards though.  It's a silly thing, but the act of sending out Christmas cards makes me feel...well, normal.  It's like laughing in the face of all the insanity being dumped on you and declaring, "Bring it on!  I'm still going to do this one traditional thing and you can't stop me!"  This year it feels like the insanity won.  Ughhhh.

Today we saw Matt and Alana!  They're up for the holidays, and we only had enough time to do lunch, but it was still awesome to see them.  We're going up to their place from the 29th to the 1st, so I'm looking forward to a more extended visit.

As promised, here's the owl I painted for my mother-in-law: 

I tried a gazillion times to take a picture of the canvas without the frame, but the flash kept turning the black paint a weird reddish-brown color.  Yet when I took the picture with the painting inside the frame, it took care of that flash problem.  I'm thinking I can just crop the frame out later if I feel like bothering with it.    

Oh, here's Elijah with the painting, just so you can see the size: 

I'm not much into painting animals, and after painting feather after blurry blue feather, it was hard to tell if it was even coming out.  But then I come across things like this on the internet and it makes me feel a little bit better:

This is a 9 x 12 oil painting being sold by the artist for $325.00.  Shan, you collect roosters...you want me to whip one of these up for you? I'll cut you a deal...I'll only charge $320.  =)

I'm sure I won't be back on this blog for a few days now, so Merry Christmas to you and yours! (and no, I will not do the weak-ass PC 'Happy Holidays' crap--sorry).

Slightly Oversized Nutshell

My week in a nutshell:

Monday I stayed home from work because I got food poisoning and I thought I was going to die.  Okay, that might be an exaggeration.  But I did get food poisoning, and it was probably the sickest I have been in four or five years.  Clint got it too, and it was quite the bonding experience as we both raced for the bathroom at the same exact time (1:18 a.m) where we became the world's most talented synchronized pukers. 

Tuesday through Friday I worked.  Friday was our fall carnival, but this time our carnival fell on college week, so we made all of our booths college-themed.  My club decided to do "Pin the Tail on the Mascot"--the mascot being Scotty the Bear from UC Riverside.  It was very cute.  We also sold nachos.  I have no co-advisor this year, so I had to have Teri run our Pin the Tail booth, while Clint ran the nachos booth.  They both did such a great job.  After the carnival, we had to dash over to Elijah's school for his parent teacher conference.  As we were rushing into his school, Clint pointed out that all of us were wearing the same t-shirt (we still had our Builders Club shirts on from the carnival).  I just burst out laughing because it was SO corny, like something Clark Griswold would force his family to do.  "Let's all be matchy-matchy for the kid's conference!"

Once home, the kids went to karate, and I headed over to my friend/colleague's house--"Mr. C"--for wine night.  He was the one who was awarded Teacher of the Year, and also the same one whose mother died in a fire last year.  I bring this up because this was the whole purpose of this particular wine night.  Last night was--or would have been--his mother's birthday.  He decided he wanted to surround himself with good friends to help him cope.  Mr. C did have a few emotional moments here and there, but as it turned out, the evening was far from somber and really enjoyable.  There was a great mix of people that meshed together really well...it was just fun.  Unfortunately I was stupid again and went for the red.  I started with a glass of white wine, but switched over to red by glass number two.  After that, it was all over.  I swear red wine is the devil.  My dear friend Mr. A (same teacher who taught me how to ski, taught me how to play three-card poker, and talked me into getting my Master's degree) not only drove me home, but carried me to my house.  Or drug me there.  I'm not sure exactly.  I just remember being delivered from his arms to Clint's.  I apologized to him profusely this morning via texting, and he said no apologies were necessary--that it was just a big bro taking care of his lil' sis.  That made me smile, but I'm still embarrassed to have been so incapacitated in front of coworkers.  This can NOT happen again.  I need to figure out a way to say NO to red wine.

And that was my week in a nutshell...a slightly bigger nutshell than I was aiming for, and one that ends with me being sloshed.  Yeah, my idiom is unraveling here, so time to give it up. 

I love this song.  It makes me think of Niecy, and Mr. C., and others who are struggling through real life issues.   

*P.S.  I just noticed that my sis posted an entry today, and now mine just knocked hers down.  Sorry Sho!  But to be fair, this blog was lifeless for a week.  In the future, can you please get your writing urges on a different day than I get mine?  I'd really appreciate it--thanks.

Nostalgia

Today we spent the afternoon/evening at Sarah's house.  She just moved, and her new house has an in-ground pool!  I've waited my whole life for a friend with a pool.  And luckily she can never accuse me of using her specifically for her pool since we've been good friends for over a decade (haha).

Around 8:00 p.m., everyone decided to drive to our house to watch the Avengers.  Our house was voted over Sarah's because we had flan.  It doesn't take much.  Anyway, I had never seen the Avengers before but I heard it was really good.  Unfortunately, I was very bored from the movie.  I think it was probably because I never followed any of the prior movies (Iron Man, Captain America, etc.), so I felt detached from the characters and storyline.  Shan felt the same way, so we ended up ditching the end of the movie in favor of laying on our backs in Trin's room and staring at the ceiling fan for a half hour.

After the movie, Clint plugged his laptop into our TV and we watched music videos for nearly an hour.  The two below were my favorites.  They both deal with feelings of nostalgia, although the first one is more warm and happy nostalgia, while the second is a more cutting, sad nostalgia (could Lana possibly look more depressed?).  The first one really speaks to my inner desert-rat.  All of that desert scenery, the bare-feet, those spontaneously carefree moments...this was life in the desert when I was a child.  Those unexpected moments of sheer joy never came in eloquent packages.

 

Rain Clouds in the Hot Springs

Okay, Monday.  Just like the weekend, it was both really crappy and pretty wonderful--with not much in between.  That morning I woke up, expecting to enjoy a relaxing morning with Clint, whom I hadn't seen in three days.  Instead we got into a nasty argument.  I won't get into the whys, but it ended up monopolizing our entire morning.  We did eventually make up, but the whole thing left me feeling emotional for hours. 

The day wore on, and I started feeling more upbeat as we began packing for the Hot Springs (although my eye infection was coming back, which was really aggravating--guess I should've followed the Rx's directions).  As I mentioned in my last post, Matt and Alana were visiting from Nor Cal, so all of us decided to hike up into the Hot Springs again.  But this time we planned to stay the night.  I had been excited for this excursion for the last three weeks.  I kept fantasizing about soaking in nature's jacuzzi beneath all of those bright stars, enjoying  late-night wine and conversation with good friends. 

Matt and Alana had already hiked up to the Springs earlier that day, so Clint and I decided to meet up with them sometime after 4:00.  The first little problem arose when Clint's mom called us around 1:00 saying she was sick as a dog and couldn't watch our kids, but luckily, she arranged for Moo (Clint's sis) to watch them.  So all was fine.  But then at 3:00, Moo called and told us that Lucas (my nephew) was projectile vomiting, so she couldn't take the kids.  We now had no babysitter.  We tried several other options, but nothing panned out.  I was starting to panic, because I knew Matt and Alana were already at the Springs, and there was zero cell service up there.  We had no way to call them and tell them what was going on.  I couldn't bear the thought of canceling our plans and not only leaving them hanging all night, but losing out on an experience that I had been looking forward to for weeks. 

Clint agreed that we couldn't leave the two hanging, and bringing the kids along was definitely not an option.  Thus one of us needed to do the hike.  Of course I volunteered.  Initially he was opposed to the idea, but he was still so sore from the black belt test that it didn't take much to convince him.  He filled my backpack with all sorts of little survival stuff, plus I took my .38 special and Yang (my dog) in case I needed to ward off any crazies (it is the Hot Springs).  He dropped me and Yang off at the trail head and off we went.

Now I say this casually, but at this point I need to mention that I have a teeny-tiny fear of going to unfamiliar places by myself, and a big fat fear of getting lost.  I used to have recurring nightmares as a kid in which I was deserted in unfamiliar places.  It's one of my worst fears.  I'd rather cuddle with a black widow than get lost alone.

Okay, so back to hiking.  The trail I was on was one I had never taken before and was much more vertical than the other option, but was only two miles from the Springs instead of six.  So of course I decided to take this route.  I was about ten minutes into the hike when my trail went into two opposite directions, and I realized I had no idea which way to go.  Of course there was no one around.  I knew this was a possibility, so I kept calm.  I pulled out my cellphone to see if I could pull up some sort of map, but I had no service.  I remember just standing there for a few minutes, looking back and forth, feeling utterly helpless.  Then it started pouring.  I actually laughed outloud at this point, because I live in the desert, and it might be self-absorbed but I knew that fucking rain cloud was there just for me.

I eventually figured out where I was going, and at that point the hike was amazing.  It smelled so wonderful, and once I found the right trail I was able to just relax and enjoy the scenery.  It also felt so liberating to conquer that fear of exploring unfamiliar territory alone.  After such an emotional day, those two miles were such a soothing therapy.

Once I reached the Hot Springs, Alana saw me right away from the river and hollered for me.  I explained to them what had happened with the babysitting, but Matt spent most of the day not believing me.  The eye infection had given me a case of the sniffles, so he was convinced  that Clint and I had argued about going to the Springs and I had stormed off without him.  All day long, he was like "Why are you crying Jodi?" and my answer was always the same: "Because I have a damn eye infection Matt."  It was pretty funny.

So we enjoyed a day at the Hot Springs, met lots of interesting people, collected wood for a fire that evening, and everything was going great.  Until night came.  Matt slipped from a rock, fell about ten feet, and ended up dislocating his elbow and breaking his arm.  At first he didn't think it was that bad, but then he held it up under what little moonlight was filtering through the clouds to show Alana, and it looked all contorted with a round ball sticking out from his elbow.  When Alana saw this she took a few steps back and told me "Oh my god, I'm going to pass out."  She didn't, so good job there Alana.

Alana and I, along with a dozen of nearby hippies, tried  for hours to convince Matt to let us hike him out, but his answer was a resounding "Hell no."  There was no way he wanted to risk a treacherous six mile hike in pitch dark (there were no stars due to the cloud cover and barely a moon), with us girls having to carry a bigger burden since his arm was useless.  Of course this made sense, but sitting there all night with his injury seemed so wrong.  Ultimately, all we could do was keep Matt's arm in the cool water all night and wait it out until morning.  He did take some Excedrin to help deal with the pain, plus we bummed some mystery liquor from one of our neighbors, so all of this helped a bit. 

Obviously we didn't get much sleep that night.  Matt constantly wanted to be in the water, but neither Alana nor myself were comfortable with the idea of him navigating the rocks in the dark with an injured arm.  Alana was pretty exhausted by 1 or 2 in the morning and could barely keep her eyes open, so I told her I'd watch out for him and ended up staying in the springs until 4 or 5 in the morning.  It was beautiful in those springs.  Even though the stars were hidden, the moon came out at one point and was so bright that it was reflecting off of the clouds.  There were a few people here and there with us, and they were all so easy-going, friendly, and relaxed.  Okay, they may have been stoned. Anyway, we spent most of the time in a spot that the three of us discovered earlier; a river pool containing cooler water, but if you lean against the rock, a hot waterfall spurts down your back.  It's wonderful--a non-stop back massage.  But in this case, it was a nice compromise; it gave Matt the cool water he needed for his arm, but gave me the nice hot water that I was craving.  

Eventually we came back to camp and I finally curled up in my sleeping bag, which was on the ground outside because I forgot to bring a tent.  Matt and Alana insisted that I sleep in their little two-man tent, and had it been necessary, I would've had no issues with it.  I'm not one with worrying about personal space.  But the temperature that night was so beautiful and perfect, and I actually felt excited about the prospect of sleeping under the stars...even if I couldn't see them.  So I tried to fall asleep, but I remember I felt so, so silly.  I think I was delirious with fatigue, but I didn't feel tired at all.  I started chattering to poor Alana who was trying to sleep, until eventually I passed out.  It was more of a doze though...I could still hear all the noises around me.  I do remember that the ground and the backpack I was using as a pillow felt like the most comfortable thing on the planet, so I must have been pretty tired. 

I woke up at first light.  Not because I was ready to wake up, but because my damn eye was super-sensitive to the sunshine even behind the closed lid.  Soon after, Matt and Alana woke up, and we spent time preparing breakfast and breaking down camp.  Matt's injured arm was now very swollen, with purple marks forming around the joint, so Alana and I felt pretty concerned about getting him to a doctor.  Right after breakfast, Matt threw up, and he seemed to be running a small fever, all of which didn't help our worry. 

We decided to hike the six mile trail out, because the trail I had taken the day before would require us to hike vertically upward for two straight miles...not an appealing option for someone with usage in only one arm.  Once ready, we set off.  The hike was long and hot, and we were quite the pitiful group.  Sleep-deprived, hungry, and a third of us crippled (two-thirds of us if you count the fact that Alana's hip was giving her issues).  When we finally reached three or four miles, I at last had cell service.  I called Clint to tell him what was going on, and he immediately drove to the trail head and started hiking our direction.  When he reached us, he took Matt's pack and hiked the rest of the way with us.   

Alana took Matt to the ER while Clint and I grabbed Del Taco for everyone.  We were all famished.  In two days, I had eaten one can of tuna, salami, and a packet of oatmeal.  Clint delivered the food to Matt and Alana in triage, where Matt technically wasn't allowed to eat, but he said "screw it" and crammed a burrito down anyway.  Then Clint drove me home and I crashed for three hours.

Matt's arm (with the elbow popped back in):

He is now doing much better but is still not quite up to par. We're still planning to get in one more visit with the both of them before they leave on Saturday. For this next visit, maybe we should stay at home and play Boggle.  

Five Black Belts in My Shower

This week has been just...wow.  Too much to write about.

Trinity passed her Black Belt test!  It began on Thursday night at 6:30, and ended Sunday night at that same time.  It was rough being completely out of communication with her, but reuniting with her at the promotion ceremony on Sunday night was such a joyful experience.  Clint's parents came, along with his sister and her family, my parents, and Shan and her family. My sis had her dissertation due the very next day, yet still managed to make it, so she officially wins Aunt of the Year.  The ceremony was incredibly moving and Trin was nothing but smiles as she promoted, unlike Clint who looked like a prisoner of war when he promoted last year.  Clint also promoted to a first degree black belt that same night, plus I cooked a casserole from scratch without burning it, so it really was a night to celebrate.

Sorry, I don't have any pictures of the casserole. 

The hardest part for me was when she had to take a punch in the stomach from a gazillion black belts.  She was amazing though and had no problems with it.  From where I was standing, it looked like they were taking it easy on her, which I really appreciated.

While Trin and Clint were in the mountains, I busied myself with cleaning the house, going skating with Elijah, going out with Clint's mom, and putting together a photo story for the promotion ceremony.  I'm going to try to embed that photo story, so hold on....

Okay, it didn't work, so I uploaded it onto You Tube instead:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ImISAKdUpos. That's probably better anyway, because now the family members of the other two black belt candidates can check it out as many times as they want.  I showed the candidates from oldest to youngest--there were only three--so Trin appears after the two boys (at about 5:15 in video).  Her very first picture makes me laugh so hard.  We ended up playing the photo story right before the candidates walked in, and all of the lights were off with dozens of candles surrounding the perimeter of the mat, so the mood was one of excitement.  It was pretty cool.  When we got home that night, Trin opened up some gifts from family members, talked our ears off until about 11:00, and then finally collapsed in bed (the girl hadn't slept properly in days).  It was just a wonderful night, and I know Trin will remember it for a long time.       

The weekend overall was an interesting combination of really sucky and pretty damn great, with not much in between.  Sucky because on Friday morning I woke up with a painful eye infection, which resulted in me having to cancel plans to see a really good friend (the eye infection got better by Sunday but was back full-force on Monday).  Great because Alana and Matt surprised me with a visit on Sunday, plus I was on a high from Trin earning her black belt. 

It was funny because about an hour before I was scheduled to go to the dojo, with not even a tiny smidgen of warning, five senseis showed up at my door, all needing to take showers.  So for a good twenty minutes I was running through the house, throwing towels in one bathroom, shaving cream in another, and telling the owner of the dojo (a fifth degree black belt) that I apologize but he's gonna have to use pomegranate body scrub because that's all I've got.  My parents showed up in the midst of all of this, and it was pretty priceless to watch my mom's face as she entered a house full of geed-up black belts meandering the house, hollering at each other to hurry up before the hot water runs out.

But nothing this weekend compares to Monday evening.  I'll save that for my next post. 

Raining Shannons

I figured that Shan would write a few words about Yosemite, I would write a few more, and between the two of us we'd pretty much cover the whole trip.  But as luck would have it, her rendition of our camping experience was so dead-on that I don't think there's much for me to add.  But here are a few more pics of my own:

Yang wedged into crowded car

Trinity squatting on a giant leaf?

Cassidi surfing

 Shan and I on our favorite rock

 Clint and I at the top of Veneral Falls

No one's gonna steal this tree.

Our campsite backed up against an endless forest

 Campsite at night--so cozy!

 Clint panning for gold that didn't exist

Home sweet technology!

Actually, all of the other photos Shan posted were mine, too.  She ransacked my facebook since her and Jer took, like, six photos to cover the entire five day experience. 

My favorite photo of all is the waterfall/rainbow pic in Shan's post.  In person, it was breathtaking.

On to other things real quick.  I started my summer job last week, and I couldn't love it more.  It is the most pleasant, kick-back teaching position a person could ask for.  The staff is super-friendly, and they really take care of their teachers.  The students, also, are bright and enthusiastic.  It's strange to have a classroom full of students who are all there because they want to be.  As much as I love working at my beloved middle school, it's going to be rough going back after being spoiled by this job.

Friday afternoon Becky and I went out for our monthly girls' lunch.  Because Becky loves culinary adventures,  she suggested a cute Korean barbeque restaurant where you grill your own food.  Everything was delicious, but more than that, we had such great conversations.  It began with idle chit-chat about work (how awesome it is to work with your girlfriend!), but eventually we started to talk about things more near-and-dear to our hearts.  For me, it was much-needed therapy.

Yesterday we went to my parent's house on the lake for an early Fourth of July celebration.  My parents know how to entertain, and they pulled out all the stops to ensure we all had a good time.  We ended up having an amazing day.  Something about the whole day just felt different and more memorable than normal.  Part of it was my dad was being so nostalgic and loving.  Meanwhile, my mom was being hilarious and silly.  Shannon and I normally just float around on rafts, but this time we actually played in the water.  I swam all the way across the lake and back, which is something I haven't done in years.  It's fun, except for the fact that when you get to the other side, you're forced to stand up in a bunch of muck.  When I was a little girl, the lake used to be full of small leeches.  Shan and I would exit the water and our legs would be covered with them.  My grandma used to spray our legs down with the hose to clean off any residual mud, then any brown blobs still remaining would have to be plucked off by hand.  I never thought this was a big deal until I shared this memory with Clint once, and he was completely grossed out.  Luckily, despite my gallanting around in the mud yesterday, I came out of the water leech-free.  I wonder if they are even there anymore.

My favorite part of the day was last night.  We all piled into my dad's speed boat and went out into the big lake to watch the fireworks.  Between the silly oohing and ahhhing, song-singing, and my mom freaking out that my dad's lousy anchoring skills were going to result in us missing the "finale", it was a perfect night.

Oh, one more quick thing about Yosemite.  Jeremy's constantly teasing Shan about possibly having more kids, and of course she is way, way done.  Well on our last night there, we were sitting around the campfire and taking turns responding to questions posed.  It was my turn to come up with the question, so I asked the group, "If you could make it rain anything besides water, what would it rain?"  This question prompted the most hilarious responses, but by far the one that stands out the most in my head was Jeremy's.  He said:

I'd have it rain Shannons and I'd scoop them all up because I'm sure at least ONE of them would want to have a baby."

Yes, More Pets

After all of the lamenting I've done about losing my URL, I had to get on here and say that I am officially over it.  Between Clint, my sister, and the emotional/technical support I received from long-distance friends, I was able to get to the root of the problem pretty quickly and take steps to move forward.  I still left some followers behind and have zero web presence, but Shan and Jewls helped me to make my peace with that.  Plus, to my complete delight, Leavenworth found me.  Sorry, I know that sentence doesn't make a lot of sense.  "Leavenworth" is simply what I have dubbed one of my followers (currently stationed in Germany), and he or she was the one who I was the most concerned about never seeing (so to speak) again.  It's hard to explain, but L has been with my blog for so long, and has gone through so many ups and downs with me, that even though we've never technically met, he or she feels like an old friend (albeit a very quiet friend).  So in a random streak of inspiration, I left a message on my Glazey blog, and L was able to follow those bread crumbs back to the new URL.  Clint's response when I exclaimed this afternoon "Oh my gosh, Leavenworth found me!" was a simple "Good job babe."  He totally gets me sometimes. 

Yesterday Shan and I got to visit with Kristyn.  It was awesome.  We talked each other's ears off for hours.  Kristyn got to my house at around 3ish, and we all hung out for about an hour or so, then went to La Casita for dinner.  Once back at my house, Shan left, but Kristyn and I hung out for a couple more hours.  Clint and the kids came home that evening (they were out shooting), so Kristyn got to meet my kids for the first time.  Trin and Elijah both love her to pieces, which cracks me up since Kristyn's not a kid person.  It reminds me of those people who don't care for cats, but always seem to have cats gravitating to them.  Elijah was asking me today, "When's Crystal coming back?" (okay, he's a little off on the name).  I had to explain to him that Texas wasn't right down Main St.

This morning we went to church, but that was an unpleasant experience because we somehow got blindsighted into a memorial service for a young man that we didn't even know.  That's a story in of itself, so I'll skip that for now.  After church, we met Steve and Becky for sushi.  Later, we purchased four chickens and two goats.

I was hoping to slip that last sentence in, but it's not blending very well.  Dang it.  I just know that all the people who think we own too many pets as it is are going to have a field day with that one. 

The four chickens are named: Polly, Zebra, Olive, and Princess Buttercup.  Can you guess which one I named?  ;)  The goats will not be at our house until either Tuesday or Friday, so their names have yet to be determined. 

My heart goes out to Dusty!  Here I've been whining about my pitiful blog issues, and meanwhile Shannon  has had to cope with the decision to amputate her dog's leg (and pay $1600 to boot).  But I think the fact that they're investing so much money to save this dog is going to turn lil' Dusty into their most beloved pet.  Wherever you store your treasures, the heart tends to follow.  By the way, I know this is still an emotional issue for my sis, but how long exactly does etiquette require me to wait before I'm allowed to make fun of the fact that she's paying a GRAND and a HALF for a three-legged dog??

Rodent Escapees & Staple-ectomies

Somehow this beautiful, open week got all crowded and busy.  Dang it.  I keep getting teased by a light at the end of an insanely long tunnel.

It's already getting late, so I'm just going to list a few quick updates.

1. Just participated in 7th grade orientation tonight.  It was fun meeting some of my future 7th graders...and having Trin enter my classroom as part of the orientation!  I don't know if I will ever get used to the idea of having my own child on campus (let alone in my classroom). 
2. I have a job interview this Thursday for a summer teaching position at the local community college.  It's for a high school program called Gear Up.  That stands for: Gaining Early Awareness and Readiness for Undergraduate Programs.  Yeah, it's a bit of a mouthful.  Do you ever wonder if people make up the acronym first, because it sounds catchy, but then they're stuck scrambling around to find words to fit the letters they chose?  No, you've probably never wondered that, because I'm sure you have a life.  Anyway, I found out about this position through Becky.  We met on Saturday for some much-needed girl time (lunch at a cozy Mexican grill, followed by wine), and she let me know that her program was hiring two language arts teachers.  She will actually be the one interviewing me this Thursday, which is sort of amusing to me.  How do you turn off the silly and turn up the professional when it's your girlfriend?  Guess I'll have the answer to that after Thursday.
3. I've been nominated for Teacher of the Year at my work.  This does NOT mean that I am Teacher of the Year, it just means that I'm in the final running.   I've known for almost two weeks now, but I didn't want to post it on my blog because it hardly seemed newsworthy (since it's merely a nomination).  But ultimately I decided that I still felt honored to be one of the final nominees.  Even if I don't get the final vote, I'd still like to remember that feeling of seeing my name on that sheet saying "Congratulations Jodi!"  That felt pretty good.
4. My pet rats escaped last night.  One of them I found right away (Ms. Frisbee).  She came crawling out of her little hole as soon as I turned on my radio.  But Ms. Whatsit pulled a disappearing act well into first period.  I actually had to walk down to the office and report to the V.P. that there was a rodent running around the school somewhere.  He nearly cried with laughter.  He said I had made his week.  Ultimately we found her (she was taking a nap in the students' file folders), and all was well with the world again.  Their little escape hatch has been safety-wired shut now, so there should be no more prison breakouts.
5. I had to perform a staple-ectomy on one of my students yesterday.  He stapled his finger.  I mean, really stapled his finger, to the point where the staple was completely embedded into his flesh.  I just applied lots of pressure, counted to three, and pulled that sucker out.  If you yourself have any surgery requirements, I'd be glad to assist.
6. Class pets made me think of home pets--we have five kittens and they are EVERY where in my house.  I haven't been able to breathe through my nose in two months.
7. Still pluggin' away at my manuscript.  In my next scene, I have to  gruesomely kill off a sweet rabbit, so I'm not looking forward to that.
8. I finally got around to posting the commissioned piece on my Glazey blog (I still love how that rhymes with "lazy" blog, since it pretty much is).
9. Spelling Bee starts tomorrow, and I'm the Master of Ceremonies person again.  I'm excited because I love the break from the classroom, hanging out with the judges, and eating chocolate (there's always chocolate). 

That's not everything, but I need to dig up some clothes for tomorrow and drag my weary arse to bed.

Back to Work: Still in the Honeymoon Phase

I'm trying to remember what #3 was the other day.  Work, cameos, and...what? 

I'll mention really quick that my first two days back to work have been pretty awesome.  Of course, it's been only two days. It's possible that my students are still sleep-walking lethargians trying to recover from being on the swing shift for the past three weeks, and thus too tired to engage in their normal antics.  But I'll take what I can get.  I have also been in an inexplicably good mood these last few days.  Even yesterday, when I was running on a few hours of sleep, I felt so upbeat.  Long story short: I'm happy. 

Wow, it's like being on break for three weeks slammed me right back into the honeymoon phase with my job.  It's almost nauseating.  In a few days, I'll be cringing at these words, rolling my eyes, and muttering "moron" at myself.

Off the work topic, my weekend was good. Thursday Becky and I went out to lunch. As usual, it was incredibly pleasant to relax with her over some greek salad and iced-tea, chatting about whatever.  Friday I went somewhere, but I don't remember where.  The end of break has been sort of a blur.  On Saturday I went out to Sizzler with Teri.  Sizzler's food is not the best, but I have a soft-spot for that place.  Shannon and I used to go there on our birthdays when we were kids, and we always brought along our best friends at the time, Sam and Jackie.  I still remember this one year, Sam grabbed a fortune cookie from the buffet (back when they actually had fortune cookies).  She didn't like her fortune, so she went back and grabbed another one.  She didn't like that fortune either, so she disappeared a third time.  This time, when she came back, she had an entire plate full of what must've been forty fortune cookies.  I remember I couldn't stop giggling as she tore through fortune after fortune, determined to get the "perfect" one.  Okay, I'm digressing majorly here.  I think I must get long-winded when I'm tired.  Or sometimes I get long-winded just because I'm long-winded.  What was I talking about again?  Oh yeah.  After lunch with Teri on Saturday, I visited with Julie for a couple of hours, which I loved.  I always feel so comfortable and safe with Jewls. 

I remember what #3 was!  I was curious if an artist should ever compromise their own tastes/style for the sake of selling a piece.  Two days ago I had my reasons for pondering that issue, but I'll have to explain later when I'm feeling more energetic.  I'm losing steam with writing tonight. 

Entering 2012

Yikes, I've had this post saved under "drafts" since January 3rd, and still haven't published it.  Okay, New Year's Eve...here it is: 

I'm a little sleepy but I still need to talk about New Year's, so this is going to be the short version.  For New Year's we had a small get-together at our house with Shannon and Jeremy, Sarah, Becky and Steve, and almost all associated kids.  Everyone showed up at our house between 7:00 and 7:30.  For the first hour or so, we just hung out and chatted.  After that, Becky and Shannon played a game of shot glass checkers, which was pretty damn entertaining to watch.  As the name suggests, all of your checker pieces are actually shot glasses, and every time your opponent captures one of your pieces, you have to down the shot.  Since it would have been sheer insanity to take that many shots, Becky's glasses contained red wine, and Shannon's contained margarita mix.  Ultimately Shannon won the game, which meant more casualties for Becky to gulp down.  That didn't sound right.  I'm too tired to go back and fix it though, so moving on...

After checkers, we all played "Apples to Apples."  I mentioned this already, but that game is so hysterical.  And pretty screwed up too, depending on who the judge is for each round (I swear a little fear would enter my heart each time Steve judged).  We played the game all the way until the countdown.  During the countdown, we did our usual ritual of running outside and banging pots and pans.  Afterwards, the kids wouldn't stop blowing their party whistles, so Clint stole them one by one and kept throwing them into the fireplace.  Okay, I realize this sounds jacked up, but it was really funny.  Shannon, in particular, was driving him crazy with her whistle, so he chased her down, grabbed her whistle, and chucked it into the fire.  A minute later another one showed up in her mouth, so again they went tearing through the house, and whistle #2 ended up in the fireplace.  Thirty seconds later she had another one.  It was awesome.  She had somehow found a magical way to make these things materialize from thin air, just to torment my husband.  Later Elijah crept into the kitchen and asked, "Mom, where all the whistles?"  to which I replied, "Sorry, Daddy burned them all." 

After the countdown, Becky made a delicious champagne cocktail that tasted like butterscotch.  We pressured her into giving a toast.  About two minutes after saying "cheers", the power went out.  The timing for the outage was more than a little amusing, just because it came right after the countdown (not to mention Becky's toast).  We were all joking around about it being an omen of some kind.  And naturally, Jeremy was sitting there hootin' and hollering about 2012 and the end of the world.  Overall, the power was out for about an hour, I think, but with the fireplace lit and the massive quantities of candles we have in our house, it was never truly dark.  It was actually very warm and ambient.  I have to admit that I felt a little let-down when the lights finally came back on.

Once we had electricity again, everyone sort of lost steam and decided to watch a movie.  Becky, Steve, Shannon, and Jeremy stayed the night, and like last year, Clint made everyone breakfast in the morning.

This was the short version.  Makes me wonder what the long version would have been like.  A tedious yawn-fest, I'm guessing.

I never came up with resolutions for this year.  I'm still waiting to feel "resolved".

New Tattoo

After a lot of research last night, I decided I wanted a cherry blossom branch as my new tattoo.  I'm sure it's no coincidence that a cherry blossom branch happened to be the first real painting I did, too.  I guess I must be partial to that particular tree.  I also decided that I wasn't going to get some dainty little thing that was just going to be floating around in the middle of my ankle like my rose--uh uh; it was 'go big or go home' this time around.  Today, we went to the tattoo parlor, and I told my artist (who was absolutely awesome--same guy who did Clint's) what I had in mind, and he was able to sketch out a design on my foot/ankle pretty quickly.  Once I approved it, he got to work.  It took almost exactly an hour-and-a-half.  He had estimated two hours, so shaving that extra half hour off was sheer bliss. 

The pain of getting this tattoo was much more intense than I expected, but maybe I'm just wimpier than I used to be.  The top of my foot was the worst.  The skin is so thin there, and there was just no barricade against that needle.  Nonetheless, I held it together the entire time...I spent the entire time joking around with Clint and the tattoo artist, singing songs in my head, counting spots on the ceiling, etc.  When the pain got real bad, I would just focus on relaxing my hands and arms (both of which kept tensing up), and I would try to imagine that they felt like water.  For some reason, doing this temporarily took me away from the pain.  One positive thing is that, although the first ten minutes is the longest (endorphins still waiting to kick in, maybe?), the time flies after that.  Those ninety minutes felt more like thirty.

Okay, enough chatter.  Here's the new tattoo....

My tattoo artist had just finished the tattoo when we took these pics, so my skin was still pink and raw.  Now that it's nine hours later, the flowers have more white in them that makes them pop out more and look much prettier.  The two largest blossoms closer to the top are what's actually covering up my old tattoo.  Overall, I am SO happy with the final product!  It's simple but dramatic.  And other than some initial shock I'm receiving from the older relatives, I'm getting a ton of positive feedback on this one.

After leaving the tattoo parlor, Clint and I were both feeling pretty famished.  Apparently self-mutilation works up an appetite.  Steve was stuck at Starbucks all day waiting for his car to be fixed, so we decided to meet him for lunch.  Much to my delight, he chose sushi (it's ridiculous how much I love the stuff now).  Clint had never tried sushi before, and he and Steve both ordered the all-you-can-eat special and pretty much ate themselves into a coma.  I, on the otherhand, ordered sane proportions of food, but that's neither here nor there.  Overall, lunch was definitely my favorite part of the day. 

Tomorrow I will be decorating Rose Floats in Pasadena from 1:00 p.m until 1:00 a.m (yep, A.M.!) with 25 middle schoolers and about 15 high-schoolers.  Wish me luck!   

Sushi, Tattoos, & Christmas

I HAVE to do a "How Christmas went" post like, NOW.  It's almost a sin to be the owner of a regularly updated blog and not have mentioned how the holidays went by now. 

Okay, so I'll get to Christmas in a minute (haha, still procrastinating), but first I want to talk about the two things that are on my mind this very second.  Be forewarned, they're both pretty shallow: #1. I tried sushi for the first time, and #2. Tomorrow I will probably be getting a tattoo.

So #1, the sushi thing...there's nothing exceptional about that except for the fact that I don't really have what I'd call sophisticated taste buds, so I was never sure if I would like it.  I mean, it is raw fish, after all.  But yesterday, Becky and I decided to go out to lunch, and she suggested a sushi bar.  When I walked into the restaurant (which was beyond adorable), she was sitting at the bar and had already ordered us a bottle of this delicious rice-wine-stuff whose name I can no longer remember.  You drink it with these cute miniature china cups, and I remember off-handedly trying to estimate how many thimble-sized glasses one would have to consume to get sloshed.  Anyway, since I was new to the whole sushi experience, Becky ordered everything for us, and she couldn't have done a better job.  Everything was so delicious.  I'm actually craving more today.  We stayed for over two hours, enjoying the different varieties of sushi, itty-bitty cups of wine, and good conversation.  I also ordered a delicious hot tea that I think I must've downed eight cups of (ughhh, ending in a preposition.  Might have to come back and fix that later).  The only downfall to our lunch was the fact that I am clumsy with chopsticks, and the fact that I locked my keys in my car.  I don't know how I managed that one, considering it has remote entry.  When I called Clint to tell him that I had locked my keys in the car, he said "That's impossible."  I was thinking, "Well, hmmmm....there's a set of keys sitting dead-center of the passenger seat that would beg to differ."  He was a good sport about it though, and we used it as an excuse to treat ourselves to smoothies. 

#2 is easy to explain.  I have a small rose tattoo on my left ankle that I got on my 18th birthday, and I've been wanting to cover it up for years, but keep putting it off.  I think I have a little commitment phobia when it comes to choosing a new tattoo to cover it up with (damn, another preposition-ending...that's a stupid grammar rule anyway).  As one of my Christmas gifts, Clint made an appointment for me to get the new tattoo.  I'm actually really excited about it (minus the whole needle-pounding-into-my-flesh-over-and-over-part), because this gives me the push I need to get it done.  But, as of tonight, I still have no idea what I'm going to get, and the appointment is for 11:00 tomorrow.  This should be interesting.   
 
Christmas was so nice!  Clint's family came over for Christmas Eve, and we had our usual pajama party and breakfast for dinner.  Christmas morning we did our own nuclear family thing, and as usual, I think I was more excited to watch Trin and Elijah open up their gifts than they themselves were to open them.  After presents and breakfast, we got ready and headed over to my parents house.  Overall, it was an awesome day.  I hate to define the day in terms of "what I got", but I really scored with the gifts this year.  Clint gave me: the new generation iPod Nano (in pink--it is so tiny!), an iPod docking station that is constantly changing colors and is about the size of a tissue box, a set of twelve professional grade paintbrushes, a giant goldfish bowl (that one has a back story), one of my own paintings customized into a laptop skin, and of course the appointment to get my rose tattoo covered up.  My grandpa sews, and he made me three "artist" aprons to wear when I'm painting.  He also made me a beautiful cabinet for my bathroom (my grandpa is truly a Jack of all trades).  In addition to all that, my grandma gave me my great-grandmother's old oil painting set, including an antique wooden carrying case.  I didn't even know that my great-grandma painted, so it was thrilling to go through her set and see some of the things she was working on before she passed away.  None of this includes the lovely gifts I received from the rest of my family, but it's going to get really boring if I just prattle on and on about gifts, so I'll stop here.  Although I do have to add really quick that I got Shannon some new jeans, a new shirt, and a new pair of heels for Christmas.  I only bring this up because when I opened my Christmas gift from her, it was new pants (really cute black dikis), a new shirt, and a new pair of shoes.  We got each other the same gift.  I swear, sometimes it's like we're twins or something.

The best part of Christmas was watching my grandma open up the willow tree that I painted for her.  Her reaction went beyond my wildest expectations and almost made me cry.  She was so thrilled, and it was just adorable.  The second best part was playing Apples to Apples with the family.  It's a pretty hysterical game.  That, and eating prime rib for Christmas dinner, and drinking this delicious white chocolate coffee that my dad made.  The whole day was just incredibly nice.

Okay, I did my obligatory post-Christmas entry, which means that I can actually start talking about other un-holiday-related things for my next post.