Something About Tentacles, Got It. On Your Mark, Get Set, Go!

Well, I'm twenty-five today.

For a long time I would mistakenly group myself in the "teenage" category. When I saw a teenager walking around I would describe them as "my age" even though I was twenty three and twenty four. I just still felt like a teenager, I guess. Several months ago someone asked me how old I was an my first instinct was to reply "Nineteen." But I stopped myself and answered with the correct answer.

Sometimes I still feel really young, like when my real estate agent offered my champagne; It took me a second to realize I actually was old enough to drink it. But for the most part, I now think of myself as an adult. I should; After all, I'm married, I have a toddler, I own a home, a car, and a retirement account. I have bills to pay and meals to plan, shop for, and cook. I know all sorts of boring things about car insurance and health insurance. That's an adult, right?

I think the hardest part of being an adult is that people expect me to pay attention when they are talking about boring things. Adults don't really expect teenagers or children to listen, but they assume adults are listening. I've had to catch myself a few times: "Self! Pay attention! He's talking about which forms you need to send to buy this house! This is important!" or "Self! This guy is talking about how to get your car fixed after the wreck! You need to know this!"

Even worse is when other adults want boring information out of me.

Real adult: "So why hasn't your house closed"

Me: "The lender is lazy."

Real Adult: "No, really. What exactly is going on?"

Me: "Well, the lending agent mistaking thought that once her job was over, we could close immediately, but really, after the lending agent, the paperwork has to go through a closing agent, then the title company, then back to the closing agent, then back to the title company, then we can sign, then the title company and the closing agent have to agree on the closing fees, APR, interest rate, and concessions, then it can be submitted to the county, and twenty-four hours later we can record. After that we can officially close and get the keys. Aren't you impressed that I know so many big and important words?"

Real Adult: "So are you still in escrow? What stage are you in?"

Me: "Does this seriously interest you? Because it's my house we are talking about and I'm already asleep. Oh, look! Something shiny!"

But most of the time I think other adults are just as board as I am, they are just being polite while I am pretending to be an adult. Sigh.

But I know I am an adult now, because subjects that I used to find boring, I now devour. Last week NPR (Yes, I listen to NPR. See how adult I am?) broadcasted a segment on taxes, and I turned it up and parked so I could pay close attention to what they were saying. I was very interested in what they were saying, but at the same time I was making fun of myself (Taxes? Really?). I am now immensly interested in budgets, both mine, my states, and the government budget. I love to hear how other people budget, what they budget for and how much, and in what way the government has failed to budget this quarter. Where did that interest come from?

And to top it all off, I am now old enough to rent a car. For a while there I was trusted with a child, a cat, a household, a mortgage and a bank account, but I could not be trusted with a rental car. Odd.

So, in conclusion: I'm twenty-five! I am not upset (is not getting upset over birthdays a maturity thing?). In fact, I am glad I am twenty-five. It sounds like a nice age to be.

I Know That the Drop Off is Desirable With the Great Schools and the Amazing View and All, But Do We Really Need so Much Space?

Okay, so you might have caught on that the pictures are not of our new house. They are actually pictures of Celebrity's mansions. That's Charlize Theron's Bedroom, Justin Long's Kitchen, Mel Gibson's backyard...yeah, you get the idea.

But, we did actually close on our house yesterday. We met our real estate agent at our new house and he got out of his car filming us with his iphone and holding a bottle of champagne to celebrate the big moment. As he walked toward us with the champagne a whole conversation ran through my head:

AAAAHHH!! He's offering me Alcohol! What do I do? What do I do?! Okay, Don't panic. Stay calm. He obviously thinks I am an adult. Oh wait, I just bought a house. I am an adult. Should I tell him I don't drink? How about I just smile an accept it graciously. Okay. Go.

This coming a few days after this conversation with Drek:

Drek: "If we close while I am on my business trip you might just want to rent a U-haul and start moving some boxes over by yourself."

Me: "I can't rent a U-haul."

Drek: "Why not?"

Me: "You have to be twenty-five. I'm too young. They won't let me drive. I can't rent a car either."

More about that weird age thing next week. But this post is about the house: We now own a house. We have the keys. We are moving on Monday. The carpet is being installed today and Monday. I'll post before and after pictures when it's all done and then you can see how very different those pictures are from the pictures I posted yesterday.

So, anyone know any good recipes for cooking with Champagne?

Home Sweet Home

Great News!! We got the call today that our house is finally our house. Phew! Never doing that again.

But, anyway. I thought I better post the photos of the house up on my blog. So here is the photo tour of our new house!

The entryway:

The house we bought is an REO, meaning it was sold as-is. So all the furniture is included.

My favorite room, the kitchen:
(Don't you just love the double range oven and huge kitchen island?

The bedroom:
Very simple: only one fireplace, nothing to elaborate.

But the bathroom is perfect, don't you think?
To the left is the walk in shower.

The backyard:
and last but no least, the pool room:

Do you like it?

Yesterday I got a call from a member of our lender's "Customer Dissatisfaction Team." Hey, here's a tip: If your lender has a whole team devoted to correcting mistakes and smoothing over angry customers, and that company would rather pay that team rather than just have capable employees avoiding dissatisfied customers, that might be a good sign to avoid that company entirely.

And it's still not over. At the beginning of this house buying nightmare, I was assigned an agent from the lender to work with. I worked with her until last week, when I started working with her boss, because she was so entirely incompetent. And by that, I mean twenty days AFTER she was supposed to have all her work done, she gave up and gave the work to her boss. I had actually spoken to her boss before and he didn't seem any better at his job than she was at hers. But since he was higher up the ladder, I thought he could help. I was wrong. Three days after their final deadline (which they did not make because...well, I don't know why they won't do their jobs. They procrastinate? They really hate paperwork? I have no idea what is taking them so long) He left a message on my voice mail:

"Would you contact the title company? I haven't got anything back from them for the for the final settlement statement, I've tried contacting them several times this morning and they just aren't responding. They really are slowing this whole process down. If you could call them and get on that, that would help things speed along."

Yeah. Besides his blatent attempt to pass the blame to someone else, the problem was a time difference: The title company wasn't open yet. It was too early in the morning. And why couldn't he have "tried contacting them several times" the day before?

After that I started working with his boss, who is a bit more helpful.

This morning I called the title company to ask if we had a closing date yet. She responded that they needed one more thing approved by the lender, and the lender wasn't responding. At this point, I lost it. Instead of calling the lender, I called my real estate agent. In between flashes of rage, hopelessness and desperation, I left him a message about how I refused to ever talk to anyone from the lender again, and how it was like having a ten year old child who won't do their homework. I informed him I would no longer call them to coax them into doing their own job, that I was done trying, and if that meant we didn't get the house than I didn't want the house. Period.

An hour later I call back from my real estate agent, who apparenly had taken pity on me and called the lender to go on a yelling spree with good results: We are funded (a big step in the right direction) we finally have a last possible day to close (for real this time) and there is even a chance we will have the keys to our new house tomorrow. Yes, that's right: tomorrow. Cross your fingers.

Fires of Besowin

Did you know you can go read novels on Amazon for free? You can go read the first three thousand words of the novels entered into the Amazon Breakthrough competition. I recommend this novel:

http://www.amazon.com/Fires-of-Besowin-ebook/dp/B004TEYGXA/

It is awesome.

So remember how I said that after seven months of looking, I found a house I wanted to buy? I changed my mind. I don't want to buy that house anymore. I don't want to buy any house anymore. Ever.

This has been the wost experience of my life. At first it started off as stressful, but exciting; There big decisions to be made, but Drek and I handled them and it looked like things were moving along. It was the first of March that things rapidly went downhill. We were supposed to have an answer from our lender on March 7. After weeks of me calling them DAILY, leaving messages, emailing, begging, threatening, pleading, flattering, blackmailing (okay, I'm exaggerating on that last one) they FINALLY gave us an answer on March 22. Two weeks and a day late. The answer was positive though: we got the loan! The house was ours! Or not: See, when we signed the offer, the seller had us sign that March 25th was the very last day we could close, or we couldn't buy the house. Basically, they gave us so many days to get our act together, and if we couldn't, then they didn't want to work with us.

Well, it wasn't us who couldn't get our act together. For over a month we have been waiting on the lender. For over a month they have done...nothing. They are entirely incompetent. They failed their goal of closing on the 25th. Miserably. In fact, today is the 29th and we STILL haven't closed. We are STILL waiting on the lender. Even worse, their only answer this whole time, starting the first week in March, was "We're working on it! We'll get it done as soon as possible!" So we still don't have any idea when we'll close. Best guess is Friday. An even better guess is two months from now, or when pigs fly.

This whole time we've been waiting on them. This whole time we keep thinking that we'll close "in just a few days". So this whole time we've scheduled plumbers, contractors and carpet guys to come fix our house, but we keep having to reschedule because we still don't own it. We've reserved U-hauls and had people lined up to help us move, but have had to cancel because don't have a place to move to. This whole time I've been packing, and then repacking because I don't know when we are actually moving.

Up until March 24th, we didn't know if the seller would still work with us. Since we signed an agreement that said we would close by March 25, we didn't know if they would back out. Last week, on March 24th, things were really bad. Here was the scene:

We told our landlords we would be out of our apartment on March 25 (because we thought we would have an answer on March 7, close on March 11, fix up the house and then have plenty of time to move our stuff over to the new house in a nice, relaxed fashion. Hah) and our lender was still telling us that they could make the deadline and we would close on March 25 and get the keys that same day. We asked our landlords if we could stay just one more day. They said yes! So we told the contractors to come on Friday to make the house livable, then we rented a U-haul for March 26th. We asked people to help us move and lay the flooring on the tht same day. Everything was ready to go. BUT, I still believe the lenders. They had been telling the same thing for three weeks! I didn't think we would close on the 25th, and I didn't think the sellers would still work with us after that, but we had to be out of our apartment...

So I went looking around at other apartments. I found a great place with a floorplan I liked. I called them up and asked if we showed up on the 26th with a U-haul could we move in? They said yes, so I didn't cancel the U-haul or the help. I figured I was moving, I just didn't know if I was moving into a house that I owned, or an apartment that we were renting.

Well, I was right that the lender wouldn't make it, but I was wrong about the seller. The seller gave us an extension: on the night of March 24th the seller said they would still work with us, IF we closed before April. So now our closing date is in April. Can we still buy the house? I don't know.

I wish we had moved into that apartment. I don't want the house anymore. This whole thing is a nightmare. I would rather rent the rest of my life then ever go through this again, or go through it now. I would rather live in a cardboard box under a bridge then go through this.

So, here is my recommendation to you: If you want to buy a house, save up money in a fancy briefcase. When you think you have enough, find a house you like, knock on the door, and tell the owner you will give them the briefcase full of money if they will vacate the premise within two weeks. That might be better. Maybe.

Candy Doesn't Have to Have a Point. That's Why It's Candy

It's been cold here and very wet. Yesterday it was a bit sunnier so we decided to go have a little beach side fire with tinfoil dinners and marshmallows.
The recipe was a bit new:

Two Ritz crackers + 2 mini chocolate kisses

roast a marshmallow and sandwich it in between. It is both salty, and sweet.
It's very good. Although, I tried it with a gingerbread-flavored marshmallow and liked it even more. It was like Christmas in my mouth. We might have to start roasting marshmallows on Christmas eve.

And then we heard sea lions barking, so we went to investigate:
They were sleeping, so they let us get really, really close to take pictures. Not close enough to touch, but still, I was only a few feet away:

Not a bad way to spend a Saturday in March.

You Know, I Care About My Carbon Footprint, but Most People Out There are Making Carbon Snow Angels

Confession: When I was little (like, ten) I wanted my future husband to be a carpenter so he could build my daughters a dollhouse. Okay, it might have been so he could build me a dollhouse. I've always wanted a wooden dollhouse. I'm not sure if my obsession started with reading The Dollhouse Murders, but I do remember loving that book and reading it several times (I was a very morbid child). When my mom would go to the craft store, I would spend hours in the miniatures aisle dreaming about each tiny piece of furniture and how I would fit it into my dream doll house.

Anyway. A few weeks ago I went looking on Craigslist and came across an ad for a consignment sale. I had heard of them, but wasn't quite sure what they were, so I checked it out. Here is it in a nutshell: I go through my kid's clothes and toys and take out anything with rips, stains, or anything faded. The remaining stuff I tag and drop off. My stuff is sold alongside everyone else's stuff. I get 60% of my profits. At the end of the time, I go back and pick up everything that didn't sell. It's like a garage sale, but you have a lot more prep work and you don't have to sit there and sell stuff; that part is done for you.

I love the idea. Buy stuff for cheap, sell old stuff and get some cash. It's a lot easier to find the clothes I want because the selection is huge, and all of it is like-new condition. It's just as great as shopping in a store, except everything is cheap, I'm giving my money to moms instead of big corporations, AND it's not new, so it's better for the planet, the economy, my wallet and...well, everyone wins.

And, since you are selling stuff, you get to go in before the general public and see if there is anything you want to buy from other sellers. This is where I bought Ash's pants. I also bought a few dresses, a few books, a few toys, and...

This:

A wooden dollhouse. I know! I know! It was a silly purchase. My kid is way too young, and it's just taking up space and blah blah blah. But I've always wanted a wooden dollhouse and look how perfect it is:
It opens up, the roof comes off, all the shutters and doors open and close, and there was even some cute little furniture pieces:

Oh, I love it.

(Isn't my quote so clever?!)

So Long Thy Power Hath Blest Me, Sure it Still Will Lead Me On

About five years ago, or is it six? How old am I? Too old. Anyway. A while ago, in March, I decided my life...well, sucked. I was miserable. I wasn't doing what I wanted to be doing and when I asked myself what I wanted to be doing in five or six years, I could clearly see that my life was not headed in that direction. What did I want? I wanted to be married to a great guy who loved me. I wanted a baby I could sing to sleep with Primary hymns and lullabies. I wanted to have peace. I wanted to have hope. I wanted to find happiness.

So I changed. I changed a lot. I cut off ties, I made new ones, I dropped bad habits and tried to start new, better ones. A big part of that change was to go back to church, a place I had not been in a year. I needed directions on how to get where I wanted to be, and I thought going to church could help. I remember how tough that first year was. I wasn't sure of myself, I had a very, very hard time sitting through church meetings and I spent a lot of time trying to distract myself. But I kept at it. I healed a lot. I changed a lot. I grew a lot. Church did help. The gospel gave me those directions, encouraged me, helped me, guided me. Somewhere along the line I could actually sit through three hours of church meetings. Somewhere along the line I started wanting to go to church.

And then, today, as I sat in Sacrament meeting with my awesome, super-good-looking husband who loves me and my beautiful, perfect little baby whom I sing to sleep at night with lullabies and Primary hymns, I realized something: Oh my gosh, I made it. I'm here. This is what I wanted all those years ago. I wanted to sit here, just like I am, and want to be in church. I wanted to listen to the speaker and be blown away by the peace, love and happiness I felt. I wanted to feel the spirit so strong that I knew, without a doubt, that God loves me, personally. The speaker today gave such an amazing talk, And yet, I'm not sure if it was that his talk was really that awesome, or if I was just finally ready.

I can't even express how grateful I am for what I have. I can't begin to express how much I love the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I can't begin to tell you how much peace, hope, love and true happiness it has brought me. It is amazing. A true miracle.

Find Places of Worship Near You

What a Plan. Simple, Yet Insane

Seldom have I encountered a situation with less solutions than the situations that parenting brings everyday. No...that's not quite right. Seldom have I encountered a situation with more solutions than the situations that parenting brings everyday. That's the frustrating thing: There are too many solutions to each tiny little problem.

Example:

Problem: Toddler will not eat carrots.

Solution: Just cook them with brown sugar and butter and they will gobble them right up!

Solution: A toddler's taste buds need to adapt to new food; keep giving her plain, raw carrots until her taste buds adapt and she will love them! Adding butter and brown sugar will only make her always HAVE to have brown sugar and butter.

Solution: She's not ready for carrots. Try again in a few weeks. Until then, don't give her any carrots so the novelty will make the appealing.

Solution: If she doesn't eat them for lunch, offer them to her as a snack, and then for dinner, and then as breakfast, until she's eaten her carrots.

Solution: It's because she's been psychologically traumatized by carrots. Don't offer her any carrots of any form ever, she'll learn to accept them when she's ready; on her own terms.

Solution: You're vegetarian? Not eating carrots is her way of rebelling against you. Think of it as her pre-teen rebellion. Give her a thick slab of red meat. That will dissolve the issue so she can eat carrots without betraying her cause.

Solution: She's asserting her power. Give her a choice between carrots and peas. If she chooses peas, don't make her eat carrots.

Solution: Carrots aren't in season right now, she doesn't like them because it goes against her internal clock. You shouldn't be offering non-season vegetables to her.

Solution: You're the parent. She's the child. She needs to listen when you tell her to eat her carrots. FORCE HER.

Solution: She has some sort of allergy to carrots. She feels bad when she eats them, so she's learned not to eat them. You should trust her.

Solution: Have her eat one bite for every year she is old.

Solution: Forcing children to eat food, even one bite, gives them eating disorders. Never push food on children.

Solution: If you eat your carrots, your child will eat her carrots.

Solution: You never gave her raw carrots as an infant because she didn't have teeth. She sees you eating carrots and assumes carrots are adult food. If you stop eating them, she will start eating them.

Solution: It's because she has anxiety at the dinner table. Are there problems at home?

Solution: You should read books and watch movies about eating carrots! Monkey see, monkey do!

Solution: She's not getting enough sleep and night and is too exhausted to chew raw carrots. You need to adjust her sleep schedule so she has energy to eat.

Solution: It's because you are a bad parent. If you were a better parent, she would be a better toddler. Obviously.

And even if I pick a solution, and she does start eating carrots, I don't know if I picked the right one, if it was just a phase and she would have done it on her own, or if I made the wrong choice and have now damaged her beyond repair.

It's just so frustrating! Why isn't there one simple answer? Why isn't there a "how to raise your child step-by-step" with pictographs? Why can't my toddler tell me the reason she isn't eating carrots so I can make an informed decision? Why is it that the more information I gather the harder parenting becomes?

A Stranger is a Friend You Just Haven't Met Yet

Top o' the mornin' to ya!

Wake up, get dressed in my shirt with an Irish flag. Eat a traditional Irish breakfast:

Decorate the house for a small celebration:



Eat a dinner of Irish Stew and Soda bread (my best batch yet!) with friends and family. Play a few game, including one where green dice are rolled and if you get doubles, you have to hurry and get dressed in leprachan clothes and eat an entire pixie stick (an orange one of course) before someone else rolls doubles.

End the day by following little leprachan footprints to a pot of delicious gold.

I Bake Pies and Wake the Dead. I Live a Very Sheltered Life

Ah, pi day. I decided to keep it low-key this year; no parties, or pie eating contests. Next year we'll do that.

This year I made Shepard's pie for our main dish, sweet potato puff pie for our side dish, and cherry cream pie for dessert. I also invited a few friends over for dessert and they brought pies to share! So for dessert we also had a homemade apple pie and a a homemade coconut cream pie. Yum!

This is the third time I've made the sweet potato puff pie. I LOVE it. It is seriously delicious. But then again, I love sweet potatoes, so yeah.
Sweet Potato Puff Pie

3 cups mashed, cooked sweet potatoes (from a scant two pounds)
1/4 cup brown sugar
3 tablespoons butter (if the potatoes aren't hot, melted in the microwave in 10-second increments)
4 eggs
1 tsp rum extract (if you're feeling daring)
1 tsp cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350F.

Mix all the ingredients in a medium bowl with an electric mixer. Transfer into a buttered pie dish. Bake for 45 minutes or until a knife inserted in the middle comes out clean

C'mon. Let's Go See How Much We're Going for on eBay

I held my very first yard sale ever yesterday. It went well, I think. Since we live in an apartment, I put all the stuff on the corner of the apartment complex, which is on a main road, so we had a lot of people stop. It was a nice warm day and the sun was shining so much that I got pretty sunburned. It was a good way to spend a morning.

I sold my stuffed animal skunk collection. I've been collecting stuffed animal skunks ever since I decided the skunk was my favorite animal. I had just under twenty different skunks. I only kept a few: one is a puppet that I thought Ash would like, one is a skunk costume that comes in handy every halloween and two are little glass skunk figurines that my mom had when she was a child. I sold all the rest. They were sold to different but all of them sold. The last two to be sold were my favorite two. I had them priced higher than the rest. A little girl around six years old saw them and asked her grandma for them. She only had two dollars, which was the price of one of them, but I sold them both to her for two dollars. She seemed really excited. It was very "Toy Story 3" moment for me. I hope she takes good care of them. I hope they are happy with her, since with me they only take up space in the bottom of the toy bin and never get played with.

We're Always Behind this Metal and Glass. I Think We Miss That Touch So Much, That We Crash Into Each Other, Just So We Can Feel Something

Last month I went to the post office first thing in the morning. It's one of those places that is too far to walk and the bus doesn't go there, so I drove (although this was before my No Drive Week). I mailed my stuff, buckled Ash into her carseat, got in the driver's seat, (miraculously) buckled my seatbelt, backed out of the parking stall into the aisle, and then had to wait. I stopped to wait for a car in front of me. While I was stopped a truck began to back out of their parking space. I honked to let her know I was behind her, but she kept coming, so I laid on my horn. She crashed into us leaving a huge scrape on the side of our car, a big dent, no door handle and the taillight hanging off. Her truck had a tiny scratch on the bumper.

In this blog post, I was in another car accident. I was a passenger in a friend's car and again, we were not moving. We were stopped at a red light and were hit from behind. Two years ago Jasmine was parked in a parking lot (I was not in the car at the time) when another car backed into her. That's three accidents in a little over three years where I WAS NOT MOVING. Does this prove it's harder to hit a moving target? I think it proves that even though I consider myself a bad driver, at least I have never CAUSED an accident. So other people must be worse drivers than me.

Anyway, not a bad accident; I was not moving. She was going slow, everyone was buckled in. She was really nice. She apologized, gave me all her insurance info, her name, phone number, address and driver's licence number. But not her licence plate or VIN number and I didn't think to get it from her. We didn't call the police because she said Sunland cops don't respond to no-injury accidents and I was dumb enough to believe her (but also, I hate cops, especially Sunland cops so I'm not saying I was hard to convince). The next day I talked with her insurance company, did all the claim stuff, filled out papers, got my car inspected blah blah blah. All that boring crap that goes along with car accidents. A few days later they called to inform me that although they insure the driver, she was not driving her car; the car they insure, so they will not be paying for anything. At that point I was told I needed to call her and get the car's owner's info. Except she won't return my phone calls (of course). Our car is broken. It's drivable but ugly and we can't open the back door. Also, I need a new carseat for Ash since this one was in an accident. These things are being taken care of very slowly, with dozens of phone calls to my insurance company made while Ash is sleeping.

The odd part is, even this accident was in no way my fault. I feel guilty. I feel like I knew better than to be out driving, using a car, killing the planet, and even that I, personally, should not be driving, because I feel I am not a good driver. That's why I hate driving. I feel guilty when I drive. I feel like I'm doing something wrong. I feel like I'm sneaking around behind the cop's back. Why do I feel that way?

Metal shop? Oh, Miss Nalca's Interpretive Dance, Two Semesters. I Was Usually in the Back Because of My Weak Ankles

Today I drove to a birthday party for a friend (the bus doesn't go there and it's too far to walk). While sitting at a red traffic light the car next to me honked their horn and I was startled to see the man driving the car had his window down, was leaning out, and was trying to tell me something. I hesitated, unsure what to do in such a situation. He was young looking, tan, with sunglasses on and he didn't seem angry, so I rolled down my passenger window.
"Is your name K La?" He asked. I was stunned.
"K la Maidenname?" He said. I was slightly nervous at this point.
"Don't you recognize me? It's me!" He said his name and then, in fact, I did recognize him. More from his voice than his looks. He was a boy I went to High school with, we lived a few blocks away form each other. How weird that we run into each other sitting in traffic in Sunland. Crazy.

I Can't! I Lost the Defuser Gun When I Misplaced the Invisible Car

And so ends my self-imposed No Driving Week.

Thursday I needed to go to a non-grocery store. The store is only about a mile away, and there is a bus, but the bus would only take me the last quarter mile: kind of a waste. So I put Ash in the jogging stroller and went for a walk.

It was surprising. When you walk, you see things that you don't see while driving. I discovered that my city is very walking-friendly. The sidewalks are extra wide (and don't randomly end like in Burgville) there are always cross walks, and I even found a walking path next to the sidewalk that took you along park benches and trees in case you wanted to go the scenic route. Speaking of scenic route, I'm amazed how much of this city is not-city. I found a beautiful waterfall surrounded by palm trees, a brook that ran along a forest, and dozens of trees and bushes in random places. It's just beautiful!

We got to the store, got what we needed, and walked back. I have no idea how long we took, but I know it was a lot longer than if we had used a car. I also know the next time I need to go, I'll just walk. It made for a much more enjoyable day.

Friday a friend picked us up and we went to the outlets for some shoe-shopping. She dropped us back off at home at the end. It was a nice outing, but she did have to go out of her way to pick us up and drop us off. I think that is the main problem of not driving: it forces other people to pick up the slack.

I liked this week a lot. I liked taking the bus, I liked walking, I liked how I felt like I got to spend more time with Ash. When we were waiting for the bus or going for a walk, we would talk and play and tickle. I can never do that while I'm driving. It made me feel like a better mom. It also made me feel like in better shape, since I was walking so much, and like a better citizen of earth, since I was reducing emissions.

The downsides are obvious: Cars are freedom. That's why they are so popular. Without a car you can't just go when you want, you have to plan around bus routes, walking time, weather and other's schedules. Still, I don't really mind that. I think the benefits far outweigh the extra planning. Like I said: the problem is that I feel like I'm punishing others. There are some places that are too far to walk and the bus can't take me: the ocean, the library, friend's houses. If I want to go to those places, or if other people want me to go to those places, they have to come get me, and that's just annoying. I have awesome friends who have volunteered to take me places, but can I really ask them to spend extra gas money because I don't want to? The answer is no. If I got me driver's licence taken away, or if I lost my car, sure. But just because I don't want to drive? No.

So, I think I will take the bus to go grocery shopping (as long as I remember my purse). I will walk to the store and anywhere else I can. For now, I will keep the car and use it only to go places I cannot go on the bus and are too far to walk. For now.

Who Needs a Car in L.A.? We Have the Best Public Transportation System in the World

I hate driving. I really, really, do. For a while now I've been looking into alternatives. This week was declared "no driving week" and I've tried to stick to it. Monday was easy: I didn't go anywhere. Tuesday Anna drove me to a fun outing, but today was different. Today I needed to go grocery shopping.

So I used Google maps to plan my route using Sunland Public transportation (har har. Yeah, I know, it's on oxymoron). The good part was is the bus stop is close, and has a route directly to a grocery store. The bad part is the bus only comes once per hour, so if you miss a bus it's an hour long wait.

Today I hoped to make the 9:06 bus so I left the house all ready to go shopping when I left to walk to a doctor's appointment. Sadly, the appointment went longer than expected, so I missed the 9:06 bus. I went home, Ash got into the backpack, we played, cleaned and then headed out the door. We found the stop, waited, boarded the correct bus, paid in exact change and got off at the correct stop. I was just beginning to feel accomplished and self sufficient, when I opened my backpack and discovered I had forgotten to re-pack my purse. Meaning I didn't have any money for groceries, or for the return bus ride. Oh noes.

Thankfully Mandy had called me before I left and told me to call her if I got stuck. I was stuck, so I called her. She came to my rescue and saved the day. I finished grocery shopping and since the bus didn't come for another thirty minutes Ash and I hung out in the pet store looking at birds and mice and chinchillas. Afterward I once again found the correct bus stop, boarded the correct bus, paid in exact change and got off at the correct stop. It was a successful day, I just wish I wasn't so scatterbrained. Yeash.

But it was good enough that I will do it again. I think the bus is a great way to get the few places on the bus route. For everything else: well, that's still a problem.

Don't Worry About It. We Use Recyclable Clothes Now. Wear Them Once, Then Eat Them

As promised, more information about my church calling:

First off, as I have mentioned before, I love my calling. I am the ward bulletin coordinator, which means I make those paper programs. Before I was called, I remember looking at the ward program every week, seeing the full page folded in half, and trying to calculate how many trees died so we would all know who was speaking. Needless to say, I was excited when they gave me my knew calling, and right away I asked if I could make a few changes, starting with shrinking the program down to half a page.

"As long as you can get all the information on there and the font is still big enough that the elderly in the ward can read it, you're good." was the response.

So, I put the schedule on one side, the announcements on the other, and left out the directory (hello, it's online now!) and the cute little picture. Alas, I was told that the directory HAD to be included every week. After a few weeks of struggling with this, I came upon a very old program from a BYU student ward. It was amazing. It was a quarter page, with one side having a nice picture, and to the side of the picture a simple schedule. I mean simple as in, instead of this across the whole page:

YOUTH SPEAKER...................................................John Smith

CLOSING PRAYER..................................................Jane Smith

It had this:

Speaker: John Smith

Prayer: Jane Smith

indented to the right. It was simple and beautiful. I loved it. The next week I adopted it. Not the quarter page, ours is still half a page, but all the info is there, it looks awesome, and the bishopric approves! Hooray!

My next task was to collect a few buckets from grocery store bakeries, label them as recycle bins, and post them outside the doors every week. I started this three weeks ago and this last week I got some real results! I'm so excited! I feel like I'm making a difference! I love my calling!

With Water the Temperature of Lava, One Side to be White Hot Heat for Scarring, the Weight to Cause Blunt Force Trauma...

When Drek went to school, and later, when he worked from home, he lived in shorts and T-shirts from DI. Now that he has a "grown-up" job with an office and everything, we made an effort to go to a store and buy new dress pants, button-up shirts, and belts. He wears these new clothes to work and he looks good. Really good. My husband is amazingly good-looking. Those clothing companies should pay him to wear their clothes, he looks so good.

The only drawback is now that he has nice clothes, we're supposed to keep them nice. That involves sorting laundry, reading tags and (gulp) ironing.

I have ironed before. I iron creases when I sew and for a while I ironed a boyfriend's BDU's. But I've never really learned how to iron.

A friend let us borrow their ironing board and iron and I set about watching YouTube ironing instructionals. I was kind of having fun with it. It made me feel all wife-y. As I was ironing I thought to myself "And my husband will know I love because his clothes are all nice and wrinkle-free. And everyone who seems him looking so nice will know he has a wife who loves him." And I was happy to be learning a new skill and taking care of my husband.

After a few pairs of pants, I switched to shirts. At this point, I made the mistake of reading the comments. I HATE online comments. Especially Youtube comments. People are so, so stupid. Anyway, the very first comment I read was "That women knows her place." (referring to the women in the ironing instructional) Suddenly, my attitude changed. I thought to myself: "What am I doing? My lazy husband can iron his OWN freaking clothes. How dare he take advantage of me like this! I should NOT be learning how to iron, I should be learning how to dismantle a nuclear warhead. How DARE my husband force me to iron. He makes me do EVERYTHING for him! I'm amazed he even gets himself dressed in the morning. Stupid men, always taking advantage of us women. Stupid, lazy, good-for-nothing men."

You see why I hate comments?

It took me a good three hours to calm down. My poor husband.

But I learned how to iron! I am ironing again today. I think I like it. I will continue to iron my husband's clothes to show my love for him. Just don't make any snide comments or I might iron your face.

Tuesday Ash came down with the flu. In three hours, I had been thrown up on four times and pooped on once. And then Drek came home from work. Ah, the joys of parenting.

Wednesday Ash was sick with a fever. She needed to sleep, but wouldn't sleep unless I was holding her. So, all day we cuddled, napped, and I watched six episodes of Next Generation. I was supposed to be cleaning; Drek's family is coming into town, but instead I just enjoyed that fact that my baby was actually cuddling with me. Is it horrible of me to say I loved her being sick? It was like having a newborn again. It was like having a baby that likes me to hold her. It was fun to push all other obligations and responsibilities aside and just give her exactly what she needed, no exceptions. I loved that.

Today she is better. Not back to her normal self, but she is back to hating cuddling and is well enough to scream when she doesn't get her way. I'm grateful for her good health, but I can be grateful she was sick, too?

Pop! Goes My Heart

On Saturday we had a big Valentines party. It went really well. Anna and I decided do the same thing for food that we did last year, so we had a chocolate fountain (Hooray!) and cheese fondue. Instead of doing all the food ourselves, we asked the guests to bring different things, which worked out really well since the food we needed was super easy: a bag of pretzels, a box of graham crackers, steamed broccoli, bread, fruit...

I made the cookies to dip in the chocolate fountain. Peanut butter, mint chip, and chocolate:

Everyone brought food and it turned out amazing:

Anna decided to do an Alfredo sauce instead of a cheesy sauce, and it was perfect! Everything was delicious and there was way more food than we could eat.

I planned the games, so I asked every couple to send me a story about how they met, or how he proposed, or their first kiss, or something romantic like that. i read the stories out loud over dinner, and everyone had to guess which story belonged to which couple. After that I gave each couple a list of couples from books, movies, TV and real life and they had to name where they were from.

Mandy brought Valentines day crafts for the kids, which was amazing. All the kids had a great time at the craft table. We tied a balloon to all the kid's legs and they chased each other to try and pop the other's balloons while protecting their own.

We played a game where as a group we had to answer Valentine's Day trivia questions and race to the correct room. The kids LOVED that game, with all the running around. It was great.

Then we played a sort of soccer game, where the individuals in a couple were handcuffed together and we played with an enormous exercise ball. We had to end that game a little early since the little kids wanted to play and it go really dangerous. I was afraid one of the babies would be trampled. But all in all, it was a great party.

For Valentine's Day I made eggs in the shape of a heart for Drek and Ash. That night we went on a picnic to the park and swung on the swings. It was very nice.

Happy Valentine's Day!!

That's a Lot of Hair. She's Growing It Out

It is a dream of mine to have waist ling hair. I have had this dream ever since I was a little girl, but, although most people would say I usually have long hair, it has never grown as long as I would like, due to a series of hair disasters: my five year old older sister finding scissors and deciding to give me a hair cut, going swimming so often my hair turned green, dying my hair black several times for several months then trying to dye to brown, resulting in a clown-orange horror... All of this is not helped by the fact that my hair does not grow fast. I don't know the average speed of hair growth, but I'm sure my hair grows slower than most. I KNOW my hair grows slower than my amazing cousin, M. Rose, who has grown her hair out, cut it all off and donated it to Locks of Love SEVERAL times. Really, she is amazing.

Anyway, the point is I've been trying to grow my hair out. After a year and a half with no cuts or trims, my hair was looking... hirsute? Is that redundant? Fine, we'll say disheveled. So I asked my amazing sister-in-law if she would trim my hair. She did, and it looked great. She cut off around three inches, but my hair was still long and looked crisp and clean. That was last week. This morning as I was doing my hair, I looked at the length and thought "my hair looks great. It looks even and long. Hooray."

So you know disaster was about to strike.

For five weeks now, I have been doing the paper programs for my church. I am the person who collects announcements, the names of the speakers, the hymns we are going to sing, and then arranges them nicely on paper, makes a hundred copies, and hands them out before church. That is my calling. I love it.

One of the reasons I love my calling is my ability to implement change. instead of giving each family a full sheet of paper folded in half, I have rearranged the program to be a half-sheet of paper, thus reducing the amount of paper used and saving a few trees in the process. I'll save the details for another post. The point is, for five weeks now, I have printed off the copies and then used the church's huge paper cutter (those things were you lay the stack of papers down, and then pull the blade down, leaving a straight, clean cut through your stack of papers) to cut the papers in half.

Today I used that paper cutter again. It can't handle fifty papers at once, so I do five stacks of ten. While I was doing this, I moved the cut papers off the paper cutter and placed new papers on, when I noticed a lock of hair on the side. I thought "Huh. strange. I wonder who's hair that...oh no."

Somehow, a thick strand of my hair had managed to sneak under the blade without me realizing it. It cut off about four inches. Of my hair. MY HAIR. So now I have a chunk of hair missing. I can either try to hide it everyday, or cut the rest of my hair by four inches.

Not cool, paper cutter. Not cool.

I Told the Elephants to Forget It, But They Can't. The Cheetahs are Hard Up, But I Always Say, Cheetahs Never Prosper

Yesterday we went on a walk. When it came time to cross the street we had to wait, not for cars, but for this:


Okay, okay. So the walk was in a zoo, not just out in the town, but still, that is so cool!!

It's Like He's Doing His Crazy Boot Stomp Dance Every Night.

I've been renting my housing for a while now.

I've rented a room in the dorms. I've rented a room shared by five other girls, one of which was a crazy, OCD, psychopath. I've rented an apartment with no heat and holes in the walls that let the sun shine through and holes in the porch that threatened to capture you every time I left for work.

When Drek and I were first married we lived in a tiny apartment with no water pressure and a broken bathroom sink. It had no parking and you could easily hear the neighbor's conversation. It was actually a great place to live: waking up every morning to the sound a the next-door rooster, super-cheap rent. I'm grateful we lived there, but also grateful we moved.

We moved to the next town over, where we rented a delightful townhouse that had no yard, and a horrible heating/cooling system. It was too expensive, too big, and looking back, we really shouldn't have bought a washer and dryer, but I'm so grateful we lived there. We had awesome neighbors, lots of space and that is where my LO was born.

Next is was off to Burgville, where we rented what I now refer to as our "luxary apartment." Three bedrooms , two bathrooms, a garage, and by far the largest place we've lived. The basement neighbors were the best neighbors ever and it was heated by radient flooring, which is pure genius if you ask me. We didn't live there long, and the landlords were dirty rotten crooks, but I loved living there.

We currently live in our smallest apartment ever, square footage wise. It's also the most expensive, rent-wise. It's two bedrooms and two bathrooms with the smallest kitchen I've ever seen, let alone used. It's infested with ants, has no lights and no functioning electrical outlets. There aren't washer and dryer hookups, the sun can't find it's way inside, our house shakes when our neighbor watches a movie with surround-sound, and the upstairs neighbors are boot-stomping screamers with a dog that won't shut-up. And yet, the location is unbeatable. It's next door to a park, around the corner form a grocery store and the plants smell so good that whenever you walk down the sidewalk you think the air itself is perfumed. We have access to a grill, a swimming pool and a hot tub, our ward is awesome, landlords know us by name, are in love with Ash and are always friendly and helpful. I'm grateful we live here.

And yet, I am hoping for a bit more. I would like to stop renting. I would like to own. It's time to move into our very own house.

After six months of looking, I've found it: our perfect home. I'm not sure we can get it, but I want it.

I've never owned a house before. Any tips? Does anyone have any home buying/home owning advice?

Green-Blooded Hobgoblin

I love my CSA box. I love it because it's organic, local, and fresh. I love it because the fruit, vegetables and herbs taste better and are more nutritious than store produce. But here is the big reason I love my CSA box:

Last week in our box we got a bag full or oranges. Three or four small ones and three or four big ones. I put them in the fridge and forgot about them. This week we got another bag full or oranges, so I decided that since we had so many, we should have fresh squeezed orange juice for breakfast. I got out my juicer, sliced the big oranges in half, and then cut into a smaller orange. This is what I saw:
I paused. Is it a grapefruit? I tasted it. No, it's very much an orange. This must be a blood orange! I have heard of them, but never seen one. And now I have around eight blood oranges sitting on my counter. So for breakfast we had juice that was half orange, half blood orange. Today we had the same thing. It tasted AMAZING. I'm sure a lot of that is due to the fact that it was fresh squeezed and organic, but I'm also blaming it on the blood oranges. They taste sweeter. Also, they look really cool. I think I want to plant a blood orange tree now.
See? Without my CSA box, I never would have known how much I love blood oranges. So great.

Dude, This Thing Claims I Have Mail. It's Amazing What We Can Do With Computers These Days. Dude, Now I'm Totally Reading It

Today at church, instead of having our normal meetings, the Bishop gave a lecture on the new church websites. The church has completely re-done the LDS.org website and has introduced the new Mormon.org website, so the Bishop took us on a brief tour of these sites and their awesomeness. I was so excited he did this. Have I mentioned I love my Bishop? I do. He gives great lessons.

Anyway, I was so excited he did this because I had not yet had time to play with these websites, and had yet to unlock their potential. Did you know that on the new website you can download complete audio files of the scriptures for your ipod or smatphone? Did you know you can access the Friend online and play cute and educational games? Did you know you can find out what the Humanitarian Aid is doing and how you can help? Did you know you can search through a massive database and find a mormon who is your same gender, age, race, has the same interests, or has been in a similar situation, and find out about that person's life, opinions and testimony? That means I can instantly find other vegetarian mormons and read about they deal with ridiculous relief society lessons. Oh, I love it.

One of my favorite things is the ability to log in. If you log in, and you're a church member, you can access an online ward directory. That means three things: Since it's online, you don't have to keep the paper ward directory around to clutter up your house. You can instantly get the phone number of someone new to the ward, or updated information if someone just changed callings or their phone number, and the church is going to stop printing paper directories to save trees! Isn't that wonderful?!

It was a great meeting. I think my favorite part was when the bishop showed off the page for teenagers and talked about how is has a lot of youtube videos, and then went on to explain that "YouTube is a video sharing service where you can upload videos and watch videos made by others." I giggled. Sometimes I forget that some people have never used Youtube, or Google, or (gasp) Blogger.

A Bug! A Bug! What is is Lavender? A BUG!

I love Sunland. On a day when the rest of the United States is under snow, we decided to go to the tidepools in our awesome eighty degree weather.

It was a perfect day to go. The tide was lower was lower than usual and we found some pretty neat stuff. The first thing we found was a family of HUGE starfish:

The smallest on was bigger than my hand. They were big!

Drek found a big beautiful conch shell, which was home to a giant sea slug. We decided to let it live in peace.

And then we found this:
It's an octopus! We found an octopus! It was so cool! We snapped a few pictures and then it slipped of the Frisbee (great octopus catchers) and went home.

Tea and Coffee and Tobacco they Despise. Drink No Liquor and They Eat But a Very Little Meat They Are Striving to be Great and Good and Wise

I attended our Relief Society meeting on Wednesday. The theme was "New Year, New You" and promised to be about eating healthy, exercise and my favorite topic: The Word of Wisdom.

I have learned my lesson. Really. From now on, when there is a ward function involving the Word of Wisdom, I promise not to attend. It just makes me upset and no one wins.

Let me set the scene for you:

This is a church activity so we are meeting in the church. Around twenty to thirty women, ages eighteen to really, really old, are sitting around the gym at various dinner tables, eating a delicious pot luck of salads, fruit and rolls. There are a few children, but not many. A few women have an infant in their arms. There are no males in the whole room. Let me emphasize that: This is a girls only activity. No boys were invited, no boys came. This activity is geared toward women. By women, for women, about women.

The night started out with a lecture from a nurse. She stands up in front with a microphone, explains that women need to value their health and then starts off on her topic. Her topic is Testicular Cancer.

Actual quote: "I've seen boys come in the balls as hard as rocks and I'm like: really? You didn't notice there was something wrong? Just like girls are supposed to do monthly self breast exams, boys should do monthly self...well, you know. They should check!"

Oh. My. Goodness.

She finished her topic (after briefly discussing Prostate Cancer. Why?!) and another girl got up to discuss healthy eating habits. She informed us that protein is very important and we all need more protein.

Actual quote: "Chicken is the best source of protein. I've learned to put chicken on everything! Put it on sandwiches, in pasta, in salads, in soups...anything you make with no meat needs to have some chicken! It's healthy!"

And that's about where I vowed never to underestimate the stupidity of humans. That is also about where I zoned out and gave all my attention to Ash.

No one even mentioned the Word of Wisdom. Not surprising since that second speaker has apparently never read it. That's okay. Neither has most of the church.

Pretty Please? The Physical Appearance of the Please Makes No Difference

Rissy got off her mission today. I can't express how much I've missed her.

Of course, since I don't live in Hometown anymore, I couldn't be at the airport when she arrived. In September it occurred to me that since she was over seas, she could potentially have a layover at an airport within driving distance. This was very exciting, and I decided I would get a hold of her travel plans so I could meet her at the airport. I wanted her to meet Ash. And I wanted to see her again.

I did get a hold of her travel plans and she did, indeed, have a layover at an airport within driving distance, but by the time her plane landed her connecting flight was already boarding. She would have to run across the airport if she wanted to make her flight. There was no way she could even wave through a window, let alone go out of security, meet Ash, and then go through Security again. Besides, I didn't want to make her go through a Backscatter machine and extra time. I called the airport to ask if I could go through security without a ticket. The answer was no. It wouldn't matter how nicely I asked, the TSA would not let me go through security to run her to the connecting flight.

She landed at the airport today. Less than three hours away and I wasn't there. As it turns out she missed her flight, so she waited with nothing to do in the airport for almost an hour. Gah! Why wasn't I there?! Why?!

She called me when she got home. It was good to hear her voice. We're already making travel plans. I can't wait to see her.

I've Got It! Let's Flap Over to the East Side of the Jungle. They've Always Got a Bit of Action, a Bit of a Swingin' Scene, All Right

Today we went to the zoo! We went early, which was awesome, because there was so few people which meant that all the zoo employees talked to us so we got the inside scoop of the animals. Like that the oldest Galapagos Tortoise is around one-hundred-seventy-five years old, and the baby is a girl and only ten years old.

After we were done with the tortoises, we walked along a back path. Coming around the corner I saw a zoo worker walking a beautiful golden retriever. Following behind her was another zoo employee, holding a leash. Her leash was attached to a creature I couldn't fully see, because it had no yet come around the corner, but I could tell it was HUGE. I watched it and my eyes nearly bugged out when it came into view.

"That is not a dog." I said aloud. The zoo workers chuckled and said "No, This one is a dog, but this one is an adult male Timberline Wolf. "

Out for a stroll. On a leash. Sniffing the ground just like any other dog. Right in front of me. I mean, RIGHT in front of me. The wolf came about a foot away from where we were standing. He sniffed Ash and then happily went on his merry way. I asked if I could pet him, but the zoo works said that the public can never touch the wolves.

You Think You're Pretty Smart, Don't You, Trebek. What With Your Diego Mustache And Your Greasy Hair. Look, What Did I Just Say About Racial Slurs?

We don't own a TV or a gaming system, so I have to find other ways to amuse myself. Today during Ash's naptime, I decided some good entertainment would be to call my Health Insurance (Company A) and ask why they are sending me "Final Notice" bills when we're set up for automatic payment.

I am on hold for twenty minutes before I decide to get online and see if I can figure it out that way. I called them through Google (did you know you can make free calls from Google? I do most customer service calls through them so they can keep me on hold forever and it doesn't eat up my cell phone minutes. I love Google) so I open a new window and find their website. First I have to create an account, then I have to log on. After that is done, I see that our detectable has been changed, but I can't see how. I also see me and Ash, but not Drek. And then I say "pay bill" so I pay our bill and then start an email to Company A (since they won't answer their phone) asking if Drek is covered because I can't see him, how are deductible has changed, and since they don't pay for well baby visits, how do I let them know that I paid for a well baby visit so it can count toward our deductible?

While I am writing that last part, I decide I need to be more specific, so I look up the date Ash had her well baby visit. I also want to add the amount I paid, but I can't find the receipt. I paid with our HSA (Health Savings Account) debit card, so I think that all the information will be online. I got to the HSA website, and realize I have to create yet another account. This one is not so easy. I don't know the information they are asking for so I have to call them too.

I am on hold with Company A through Google. I am on my cell phone with Company B. I am on Company A's website and am trying to log on to Company B's website. Entertaining, no?

Anyway, Company B says they can't tell me that information, but they can tell me where to find it, so I go digging through files and find the paper with answer to their question. I set the paper down in front of the computer. As I about to type it in, Company A FINALLY answers the phone! I have been on hold for thirty two minutes. I ask them my questions. They say Drek is over eighteen, So I'm not allowed to see him when I log on , but he is still covered, they say the new Healthcare bill changed the deductible and they said that when that happened, all automatic payment information was lost. I ask about the Well Baby visits and she informs me that under the new Healthcare bill, they will pay for all of Ash's Well Baby visits from now on. I am stunned. I ask her to double check, so she does. She checks my doctor and my plan and assures my that they will pay from now on. Wonderful!!

I thank her, hang up the phone, and then realize I've already started this account with Company B, so I might as well finish. I enter the answer, hit continue, and it gives me a crazy error message. I call Company B again, and the girl says she can help if I verify my address. I give her our address in SunLand. She pauses, and then asks if there is another address. I give her our address in Burgville, thinking we hadn't updated it. She says that's not it either. I give her our HomeTown address, that is also incorrect, but she says the state is right. I give her my parent's address, thinking I used that as a mailing address four years ago, she says that's not it. I ask her if it's the first address Drek and I lived after we were married. She asks what that address is and I can't answer because I have forgotten it. I remember the street, but she says she can't say yes or no unless I give the full address. So I go online to Google maps, type in the street, find the house, and look at street view. I zoom in to the address on the curb, give it to her, and she laughs and says no, that's not it either. I am baffled. She thinks I am am traveling vagrant and points out that we've only had this account for three years. Yeah. I move a lot.

And then I look down at the paper in front of me. On the top it is addressed to Drek and has his parent's address. I ask if that address is correct. She says that the address is, in fact, correct. Hooray! I win! It was right in front of me all along.

I don't need to watch game shows on TV, I create them for myself with customer service calls! Today on K La's Customer Service Calls, K La won two online accounts and free Well Baby visits! Join us next time on K La's Customer Service Calls!

I Shall Call Him Squishy. And He Shall Be Mine. And He Shall be My Squishy

I love Sunland. Last week we were freezing to death and slipping all over the ice-covered roads in Hometown, but this week we are walking barefoot on the beach and dipping our toes into the water. And my, was it beautiful:


We went to see some tidepools! Drek found a website telling us the the tides and the best time to go, so we went! There were all sorts of creatures and crazy rock formations. This was the most abundant creature. I have no idea what it is. If I had to name it, I would call it the Sea Gush. The video explains why. Any one else have a guess?

And we saw a crab! So I give you another video:

I held the shell that Drek gave me in the palm of my hand as we walked down the beach. Suddenly I felt a strange tickling. The shell was alive! There was something coming out of it! IN MY HAND!! I screamed and dropped it and Drek laughed at me.

And that is why I love SunLand.

The Moment You Set Foot on That Casino Floor, They'll be Watching You Like Hawks. Hawks With Video Cameras

I'm not thrilled about the heightened airport security. I already think the TSA is not only useless, but a complete joke, so the fact they are spending MILLIONS of taxpayers money on new machines that no one wants and they've admitted won't keep us safer, makes me mad.

I'm a little worried about the radiation, I'm a little worried about my naked X-ray picture ending up on the internets or on the iphone of some perverted, lonely TSA worker. I'm even more worried about voicing these concerns in the security line because I am very opposed to a TSA agent sticking their hands down my pants.

So, once the announcement was made that every airport would have a Backscatter X-ray or a Millimeter Wave Scanner I did a little research. I looked up a list of which airports had which machines and purchased tickets based on that information. For instance: There is a small airport here in Sunland that does not have either machine. They are not the closest airport to us, but that's where we decided to fly from. I also discovered that the HomeTown airport only has a Millimeter Wave Scanner in one terminal, meaning as long as I didn't fly Delta, I was safe.

And thus, I purchased tickets for us to fly to HomeTown for Christmas. I admit, I was really hoping it wouldn't be an issue. I was hoping "National Opt Out Day" would get some attention and by the time I flew in December, the machines would be ancient history.

That's not how it played out. The security at the Sunland airport was fine. Not a Backscatter X-ray or a Millimeter Wave Scanner was in sight and all the agents were polite and professional. We arrived in the HomeTown airport without being blown up, but as I walked passed security I stopped dead: people going through security were being ushered through a very big and expensive looking machine.

"Is that a Backscatter?" I asked the TSA agent in charge of making sure people did not go in the exit.

"No, it's a Millimeter Wave. We just got it yesterday. Pretty cool, huh?" She said.

My mouth fell open. But, I did research! I drove farther than I had to! I didn't fly Delta! I'm not supposed to even see one of those machines! But I just nodded, not sure how anyone could think that it was "cool". There are multiple security lines in the HomeTown airport and only one Millimeter Wave, so maybe I could avoid it anyway.

Thus, I was a little anxious about flying home. We had an early flight, so Drek and I wanted to get there just an hour early, instead of ninety minutes early. We knew we could do this if we checked in online. The night before Drek got online and checked himself in, then turned the computer over to me. I went through the link, but when I entered my name it took me to a screen informing me that the TSA had flagged my lap infant as a possible terrorist and they needed additional information about her.

Really? I'm not flagged but my daughter is? Really?

So I entered her full name and date of birth. Except when I got to the year she was born, the drop-down menu only had two choices: 2010 and 2011.

Seriously? Because four day olds are known terrorists? Where was the 2009 choice? Drek looked it over and decided the programmer must have thought that since lap infants are two years old or younger, he would only put two year choices. And clearly it's more likely that my child would be born in the last four days, than in the entire three hundred and sixty one day span of 2009.

I tried entering her birthday as 2010, but it said what we entered didn't match their records (of course) and to see a flight agent immediately. I called my airline and explained the problem. The girl tried to override the system, it didn't work. She tried to give me 2009 as an option; it didn't work. So she tried changing my daughter's birthday to 2010 so the records would match. This only succeeded in having us red flagged. Great.

We got to the airport the next morning (an hour early. I was not going to get up at four in the morning because some web programmer is a moron) and to my dismay I realized that all the security lines had brand new Millimeter Wave Scanners. However, I also noticed that one of the machines had orange cones in the entrance, and no one was being ushered inside. Hah! Less than three weeks old and already broken. So we went through that line.

They did not pull Ash aside and they did not pat us down. In fact, besides the fact that one of the TSA agents was a complete jerk, it was business as usual in the security line. Still, I don't think we will be flying anywhere anytime soon. The entire situation is one I want to avoid.

What Can it Be? We're All Doomed! Who's Flying This Thing!? Oh Right, That Would Be Me. Back to Work

Today we drove the wrong direction on the freeway. It was super exciting.

Drek is driving down the freeway in Hometown. I am in the backseat, entertaining the baby, who is in her carseat. We are all wearing seat belts. The truck in front of us changes lanes, revealing that the cars in front of us are stopped. Drek slams on the brakes, I gasp and pray we can stop and aren't hit from behind. Ash takes another bite of her snack.

We do stop, we aren't hit from behind, and by now, no one is moving. We just passed an exit a quarter of a mile ago. We are in the right most lane, about five feet from the on ramp where, further up, cars are also at a standstill.

We turn on the radio and hear that there is a nasty multiple car accident, all lanes are blocked, emergency vehicles can't get to the scene and "avoid that part of the freeway because you can't get through, period." Oh noes.

We wait. A car passes us on the on ramp and has to stop. Another minutes passes. Another car comes and has to stop. A few more minutes pass and a brown station wagon and a green bug drive down the on ramp and stop behind the line of cars. The driver of the green bug looks at the freeway: all lanes blocked, no one moving, and looks behind him: the on ramp is all clear. He then puts his car in reverse and slowly drives back the way he came, going around a corner and everything. Drek mentions he was just thinking the same thing. I reply that it is too dangerous and we aren't in a hurry. Drek replies that we might run out of food and water. I look at Ash. She gobbles up the rest of her snack.

A minute passes. The brown station wagon goes into reverse and follows the green bug. The truck behind us does a U-turn on to the onramp. His truck is now driving forward, following the brown station wagon as they go the wrong direction on the freeway. He is followed by two more cars in reverce.

Drek decides to be bold. Despite my protests he follows the example of the truck: flipping a U-turn onto the on ramp. We are now in a very slow moving line of cars, some going forward like us, some going in reverse, exiting the freeway using an on ramp. Yes, it was terrifying. Surprisingly I was not afraid of getting hurt, I was afraid a cop would give us a ticket. I am so screwed up.

We turn the corner and flip another U-turn so we are now facing the correct direction in a correct lane. We drive over the freeway to take the back roads to our destination. As we drive over the on ramp we had just used as an off ramp, we see a very long line of cars following our example.

The cars that are unaware of the accident or the traffic jam and are trying to get on the on ramp have stopped in the wake of the dozens of cars facing both directions, trying to get off the on ramp. I giggled as I thought of what they must be thinking: "Wait, are we in the wrong lane, or are they? Are they all drunk? Are zombies attacking?"