Realization

In the midst of stress and worry about our state as jobless, homeless people, I've forgotten to rejoice. You see, had I not been worried about being jobless and homeless, I would have been counting down. Let me do so now. After I go to sleep tonight, there will only be four days before I set foot on Italian soil. That's right, we are leaving for ITALY on Thursday, and will arrive on Friday. I CAN NOT WAIT!!! It really is going to be the trip of a lifetime. Here are the top ten things I am most excited for:

1. A gondola ride with my hubby.
2. GELATO!!!
3. Pasta
4. Michelangelo's Pieta, which I have wanted to see since my freshman year's Humanities 101 class
5. The Sistine Chapel
6. Outdoor markets and the treasures I will buy there
7. A stamp in my passport (I am very distraught that I've had to start over after my name change)
8. Paintings . . . I can't narrow down to just one
9. Taking photos of the coolest things imaginable
10. Ummmm.... BEING in ITALY!!!!

I really am SO unbelievably excited! I am going to try really hard to be completely worry free while there so that I can enjoy the experience. I promise I will post plenty of pictures when we get back.

I Highly Recommend It

So, the "Someone Stole My Money" blog will have to wait. I've been tagged by one of my most favorite people, Scully, and I think this is a cool blog idea. So, here are the instructions I've been given:

1. Grab the nearest book. If you are currently reading something, that'll be fine too.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 4 sentences on your Blog along with these instructions.
5. Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet I know that is what you were thinking!
6. Tag 5 people.

I've just finished reading Anne Tyler's Digging to America. If you haven't read it, do! I borrowed it from my mom before leaving Utah, and just barely got around to it. I adored it. She's an amazing writer, and the book is fabulous. Anyway, enough babbling, here is the passage found on page 123, sentences five through eight:

"A book on needlepoint dollhouse rugs due back at the Roland Park Library on May 16, 1989. A manual for an electric typewriter they no longer owned. A box of unused thank-you cards. Twenty years of tax returns, some of the years missing."

I tag:
1. Noelle
2. Wendi
3. Jennifer
4. Tiffany
5. Meredith

Or, if anyone else is game, feel free!

UHauls Should Die

So. Last Thursday we pulled into my in laws driveway in quite a glamorous fashion. We were driving something like this:

(I am still kicking myself for not taking a photo with Chad in front of our own for future posterity's sake.) The difference between the Uhaul in this photo and the Uhaul we actually drove was the additional footage added behind the truck. We pulled our 4-Runner on a trailer behind us.

As most of you know, I am not really much of a driver to begin with. I am content to sit in the passenger seat for moral support, but I don't really care to take the wheel myself on a long trip. So, if I'm not crazy about driving a car across country, you can imagine how I felt about driving the beast pictured above. If you can't imagine it, let me give you a visual: I cried. I was petrified of the thing. I had more than one nightmare of me driving, Chad being fast asleep, and the UHaul being balanced on one wheel, whilst I screamed that we were about to meet impending death.

That is why, when I took the wheel in the desolate wasteland that is known as Western Wyoming, I wasn't exactly jumping for joy. The 60mph winds only added to my feelings of terror as my sweaty palms gripped the wheel for the couple of hours that Chad got some rest. And if you think I am exaggerating, I am NOT. Seriously, the winds were trying to sweep us straight off the road. You know how that picture posted above boasts "gentle ride van?" Well, here are three words in regards to that: LOAD OF CRAP!

And while we're on the subject of states that weren't my favorite, let's talk about Nebraska, shall we? Lincoln, Nebraska? Not topping my list of places I'd like to end up. Ever. Right before we reached the city, we were greeted with lightning and thunder. We'd been planning on sleeping in our 4-Runner, but with the approaching storm, and after being in the cab of a UHaul all day, Chad's comment of, "Kate, I really hate to say this, but I don't like the look of that storm, and I think we're going to have to get a hotel," was not sounding like bad news to me. I started craving a hot shower. A bed. The mini-muffins at the continental breakfast buffet the next morning. Well, when we reached Lincoln, EVERY HOTEL ROOM WAS TAKEN IN THE WHOLE, BLOODY CITY! Apparently, the classic car convention decided to meet on a TUESDAY and take every available room. OK. Here's the deal. If the people at the hotels had been nice and helpful, I could forgive the citizens of Lincoln for this ordeal. What I can't forgive is how incredibly RUDE they were to us in each place we stopped. Let me tell you, it doesn't feel good when there's "no room in the inn." We ended up sleeping in the back of our 4-Runner, while hail pelted the roof and the wind blew so hard I wondered if we were about to reenact a scene from the Wizard of Oz.

The next morning we were off again. When I drove through my first mountainous region, things started to get a bit more intense when signs like this began to appear:

But, my favorite signs, were the ones that I would frequently see while I was squeezed between a bridge railing and a semi truck. Feast your eyes on this:

Are you remembering the dream I mentioned earlier? Because I WAS! Not to mention the fact that every time I glanced down at the speedometer (which was frequently, since there was NO CRUISE CONTROL) I saw, printed in bold, white letters the following phrase: SPEED KILLS, SLOW DOWN AND LIVE. Thanks, Mr. Uhaul Speedometer, because I was a bit further from an anxiety attack before reading THAT! Chad would seriously have to coach me through moments like that. It's a good thing I have the sweetest, most patient husband alive, or I would be in big trouble.

Well, the second day of driving we did luck out and get a hotel room. You know you've been roughin' it when the towels at a Quality Inn feel like Egyptian cotton, and the beds feel like the most comfortable things you've ever slept on. The whole fiasco left me feeling this way about Uhauls:

Having complained enough, let me say that I do feel so blessed we were able to travel in safety. We missed a tornado in Iowa by a mere four or five hours, and we both arrived in North Carolina in one piece.

Stay tuned. I meant to write about today's episode, but alas, this blog is too long. I'll give you a hint. It will be entitled "Someone Stole My Money."

Cutest Puppy Alive!

As most of you know, I am not a cat person. I am not a bird person, nor am I a dog person. Animals are not really my number one love in life. I never thought I would own a dog until I met Bailey, Chad's family's sweet Golden Retriever. She was such a good dog that I started to think we could have a family pet someday, provided it was just like Bailey. The only problem is, when you buy a puppy I'm pretty sure it doesn't come with a warranty that says, "You only have to keep this if it acts just like Bailey . . ."

I know Chad really, really wants a dog, so I've been trying to keep an open mind. Lately we've been researching different breeds just for fun. So, despite my life-long pledge of never having a dog in my house, this puppy, has won my heart and convinced me otherwise. It's a Pembroke Welsh Corgi and I have fallen so in love with these that Chad and I spent last night Googling puppy names and deciding what we are going to name our little baby when we buy her. You can't tell me that after watching this you are not also dreaming of owning one!

I know what you're thinking. "Cute puppy. . . but it's a puppy . . . all puppies are cute . . . and all puppies grow up." Well, I'm one step ahead of you, kids. They're cute when they GROW UP, TOO!

Here's a Welsh Corgi a little bit older, and one all grown up:

Sick of Moving

After spending the weekend helping my parents move, we have now begun to pack up the massive amount of stuff that belongs to us. My house is in utter disarray which doesn't go so well with my slightly OCD personality. The sight of stacks of cardboard boxes gracing my living room makes me want to vomit. So far I have almost all of the office packed, all of the winter clothes, all of the books, all of the DVDs, and some other stuff. That's really not much, which is depressing, because it's taken all day.

We've sold a few things on Craig's List today which is exciting. We don't have to move the entertainment center now, and we're holding our computer for someone to come get tomorrow morning.

We're planning to pack the U-Haul on Monday evening and take off bright and early on Tuesday morning. I am having a hard time being excited about driving a seventeen-foot truck pulling a trailer (which I have already had night terrors about).

Memoirs of a Pack Rat

So, yesterday Chad and I went to my parent's house in Bountiful. They recently bought a new home (YEA!!!) and are getting ready to move. That, in combination with the fact that Chad and I are also moving in a couple of weeks, has forced me to get all of my belongings out of their garage. Sounds simple, right? Wrong. I am the epitome of sentimentality when it comes to accumulating junk. I never throw anything away. Notes passed to me in junior high school? Oh yes, some of those were there. Every card ever sent to me when I was Junior Miss? Oh yes, they were there. Some things were more than painful for me to toss away. I had to sit on my hands to keep from digging through the trash can to salvage what remained of the memories I was tossing away. I am a sick person. After going through boxes of belongings that have been packed away for the last five years, here are some of the worst of the worst. Things I am still asking, "Why in the heck did I keep this?" Prepare yourselves. It's not going to be pretty. The top ten:

1. WSU alcohol flask

This was gifted to me as a joke from my good friend Lena. We were attending universities with identical mascots: the cougar. My university, however, wasn't as keen on the alcohol consumption. I found this hysterical and it sat on a shelf in my dorm room, and later in my Glenwood apartment. I'm actually shocked I didn't get reported to the honor code office, come to think of it. Even with all of its charm, I'm not sure what I intended to do with it permanently.

2. Pink Fuzzy Dice

I feel a Cake song coming on . . . These used to hang proudly from the rear-view mirror of my 1984 Ford Bronco, Eddie. Oh, bless my heart. I know these were a gift from someone in high school as well.

3. Keys to my first car, a 1982 Honda Prelude

Her name was Truvy and she had a very short-lived life. For those of you who don't know, it is because of this vehicle that I now drive like a paranoid, 85-year-old woman. When I was 16, I flipped this car on my way home from school. Later that night I performed in the opening night of our high school's musical Our Miss Brooks, staring my good friend Emily.

4. Pet Rock from David

This rock from my friend David became a traditional gift. I think several of us were given these stones from his yard for various occasions. Was I hoping to use this to help pave my driveway someday? I know not. But saved it I did.

5. French Class Valentine

His name was Sam. He was a senior. I was a freshman. And was he ever cute. *Sigh. For those of you who can't read French, this says "I think that you are hot." Whatever possessed me to keep this for so many years I cannot say, because I'm pretty sure he might have been gay, but whatever.

6. Japan Airlines Barf Bag

This one takes the cake, folks. In sixth grade, JAL took all the sixth graders on a flight. This was the barf bag included in our flight package. Why did I keep this? Was I thinking that someday I might have the flu and be in need of a comforting reminder from my past that could still be used functionally? I have no idea.

7. IHOP name tag

As if the memories of two summers worth of feeding white-trash pancake eaters wasn't enough, apparently I felt the need to immortalize the experience by forever housing my name tag in a cardboard box. Was I holding on to this just in case the whole college degree thing didn't work out?

8. My Jesus shirt

This shirt became a bit of a trademark during high school. It was when I was going through my whole "Goodwill T-shirts, jeans, and no make-up phase." I think I have photos wearing this at play practice for each of the shows I was in. When I bought it on a Goodwill run, I had no idea that Jesus was on it. It wasn't until my friend Ryan proclaimed that "Jesus is on your shirt!" that I realized what I thought had said "sunrise balloon festival" actually said "Sonrise balloon festival."

9. Good Luck Poster

This is just one example of the countless similar items of memorabilia I had stashed away. This one was a poster my freshman ward friends made for me before I left to give up my title to the new Washington's Junior Miss. I guess I thought this definitely would look great framed in my house someday. I also had a poster my friend Jared used to ask me to Homecoming our senior year of high school. In addition, I had saved the Barbie birthday card my friend Elliott gave me when I turned 16. There was also a monstrous collection of cards from family and friends I felt the need to salvage.

10. Girls Camp Accessories

Every year at Girl's Camp we were all frantically trying to earn the special beads for our necklaces. I saved them all. Of course, one year it was pins for our tweety-bird hats, and I saved those, too. I think I look quite stylish, so I'm surprised I was able to part with these gems.

So, there you go. Hopefully, you don't think less of me after finding out about my horrifically bad habit. I do, however, feel I deserve some credit because each of these things is either in our garage sale pile, or on its way to the dump.

Screw You, Mr. George Bush Man!

In college, one of my favorite roommates of all time, a fiery red-head named Brianna, would scream "Screw you, Mr. Accounting Man!" at the computer screen as she did her accounting homework. It was her way of voicing her contempt for the ridiculous man she had to listen to who made no sense. I am borrowing her line, to express my similar feelings about our stimulus payment that came in the mail today.

I thought we were getting $1, 200. We are poor. We are married. It would make sense.

We only got $600.

WHAT?!?!

OK, so $600 is still $600. It's money we wouldn't have otherwise, and I realize we should be grateful.

But it's only half of $1,200. So I'm disappointed. And disgruntled.

Sure, the $1,200 was just going to sit in our bank account. But it would have been quite comfy and cozy there. I had a place all prepared for it. Visions of our account balance rising by over a thousand dollars were dancing in my head. Those dreams are dead. Thanks to the federal government.

In other updates, still no news on the job front. Another reason the additional $600 was supposed to come in handy.

Vultures

On Friday, after I got off work, Chad, Meredith, and I went to test drive cars. Specifically, we went to try one of these little babies:



We know that in the next year we will be buying a second car, and the Mazda 3 has definitely caught our attention. First of all, it's just a super cute car. Secondly, it gets great gas mileage (a MUST, because despite our undying love for Mr. Four Runner, we're sick of paying over $50 to fill up our gas tank, and watching that money quickly disappear). Thirdly, it's fairly affordable. Lastly, it has GREAT reviews. They hold their value unbelievably well, and the reviews we've read have had a hard time coming up with anything bad to say about the car. We're also considering a few other cars, but this one is kind of topping our list right now.

So, we headed into the Mazda dealership on Friday evening and the vultures were waiting to greet us. Four vultures. They didn't look like this:


And they didn't quite look like this:


But, frankly, they were just as frightening as the images depicted above. First of all, we were very upfront about the fact that we were NOT looking to buy a car that day. AT ALL. Nor were we even looking to buy in the next month or two. It's something in the not-so-distant future, but it's still in the future. We don't even know where we are going to be EMPLOYED at the end of the summer, so we certainly aren't going to be dumb enough to aquire a car payment.

Well, the vultures did not take the hint. They trusted that their handy-dandy-trusted-salesman-vulture tricks would get the job done. What I don't understand, is why they had to be SO pushy. Seriously. One, nice salesman would have been enough. In fact, it wouldn't even have annoyed me, because I would have realized that the gentleman was just doing his job. I would have felt guilty for not giving him a sale, but I would have enjoyed learning about the car from him, and having his Mazda expertise. Having FOUR different individuals approach us, and having to repeat FOUR different times what we were looking for, was a little bit over the top. Which my husband not so discreetly vocalized . . .

We took a cute little Mazda 3 out for a spin, and we really like it. Much to the sales staff's utter chagrin, we did not buy one. Nor did my husband give the pushy man our phone number. Nor did we "sit down" to talk over the "specials" going on. We made it out still breathing, with all of our vital organs still intact.

Had I been in there on my own, they would have eaten me alive.

Thank goodness my husband has a little bit more of a backbone than I do when it comes to this kind of stuff.

It makes me dread going to test drive the other cars on our list to try, not to mention the actual buying part!

Rants and Ramblings

I escorted a girl to the principal's office today.

I actually had a student tell me today, "Mrs. Reese, this is hard, and not even cool, or fun" to which I responded, "You're looking at me like I should care that you think this is not cool or fun...turn around and do your assignment."

I really wanted to give both of these kids a good, hard slap across the face, but I didn't.

A lot of the time, I love my job.

Today, not really one of those days, I'm not going to lie.

I am so sick of hearing kids whine, and complain about situations they have created for themselves after slacking off the entire year. "I'm not going to graduate!" Really? I find that shocking since you stopped coming to my class half way through third term.

Today was one of those days where I think, "Do I really want to do this again next year?"

It's a good thing summer vacation is almost here, because I am reaching the edge of my sanity.

Gettin' Friendly with Blockbuster Employees

So, my sister-in-law and I have been a bit movie happy lately. She has an account with Blockbuster where you get to rent two movies and then trade them in as many times as you want. Well, this handy-dandy account ends on Monday, so we have been trying to cram in as many movies as possible. So far we have rented:

The Kite Runner (watched while Adam was still here)
August Rush
High School Musical
P.S. I Love You
27 Dresses
The Golden Compass
Hairspray
Martian Child

We are actually watching Martian Child now. As soon as it ends, we'll be returning to the video store for two new estrogen-driven flicks. We're hoping to get through two before Blockbuster closes so that we can switch for two new movies for Sunday.

Chad is beside himself. During P.S. I Love You, he endured not one set of tears (the normal amount), but three sets (Meredith is pregnant...with a girl...and she's crying for two). At one point, he said, "There's too much estrogen in this room...can we watch ESPN for a few minutes?" Today, he offered to switch places with my mother-in-law, who is currently surrounded by too much testosterone (she's the only girl with 4 boys in the house right now). He's been a really good sport about it, though. I did go to see Ironman with him last night, so we've had one action flick thrown in with all the other films we've been continually watching.

I'll let you know what the final film selections end up being!

Rats with Wings and Despicable Neighbors

Seriously, I am disgusted. The people who live across the parking lot from us are clearly not ashamed to bask in their white trash tendencies, despite how appalling it might be to other people. When you look out our living room window, THIS is what you see:

Notice the strategic labeling my husband added into the photo for effect. No, you are not imagining things. That REALLY is a twin mattress. And yes, those REALLY are pigeons NESTING on top of it. Clearly the little birdies have chosen to really make it their home, or at least their toilet. No, we do not live in the back country of Arkansas, we live in Orem, UT.

I have no idea what the couple looks like who lives there, but I'm envisioning something that involves mullets, wife beaters, and driving a late '80's Mustang 5.0.

The thing is, it's not just how nasty this looks. It's how completely and utterly UNSANITARY it is. Are they PLANNING on sleeping on this mattress in the future? I would certainly hope not. And yet, if they aren't going to sleep on it any time soon, than why is it being stored right outside their living room window?

Honestly.

I'm a Believer

While everyone was here for Chad's graduation, my mother-in-law bought herself, Meredith, and me Ped-Eggs. We were all devastated when we didn't win the competition on Wendi's blog (see here for further explanation).



I will admit, despite Wendi's stellar review, I was a bit skeptical.



Well, tonight, I officially got my Ped Egg out of its plastic wrapping.



I assembled it carefully.



Grated my dead skin away.



Used the included free emery board to further polish my footsies.



And, after doing everything described above, a quick rub with peppermint foot lotion, and applying a coat of Ulta "burnt sugar" nail polish (my signature color) my feet look and feel amazing.



WOW. That's all I have to say.



Thanks, Mom Reese, for the fabulous foot gear =-)



I was going to take a picture of the three of us with our Ped Eggs before Joy flew home, but never did. But here is a picture of us hanging out (while the boys were all violently playing Halo):

Get Ready, Neil!

Well, as most of you may or may not know, my hubby has just graduated from college. HALLELUJAH!!! We are both done with school! Now. The job search begins.

Here's the deal. My worry-wort personality is not exactly cool with leaving this frozen waste land (it SNOWED again today...ON MAY 1ST!!!) without actual jobs. My husband, bless his heart, is perfectly fine with loading our belongings into a U-Haul and moving across country to where we want to live, and just trusting that everything will work out. I think his exact words were, coming from behind his cute, little-boy grin, "I think it would be fun! What an adventure!"

I have been rather teary-eyed about this whole situation lately. The thing is, I'm not really sure why. I can't really put what I am feeling into words. It's not because I don't think my husband will find a job, because I know he will. He is adorable, brilliant, and fantastic. Who wouldn't hire him?!?! In fact, I really do think that we would be fine if we packed up and moved having no clue what we were going to do once we got there. We've been financially smart, so we have money saved. I have a pay check coming through the end of the summer, and we'd be bound to find SOME kind of employment before that source of income runs out. But I don't LIKE that idea. I like the idea of knowing exactly what we're going to be doing BEFORE moving. Security. That is my idea of adventure. A more organized version.

I just feel so scared about a lot of things. I feel like so much is changing. Even though I'm beyond thrilled to be done with school, it is kind of crazy to think about us as not being poor students anymore. I'm excited to be starting our grown up life, with things like buying a place of our own, actually having two incomes, and starting a family in the near future, but I'm also sad about living thousands of miles away from my family and scared about starting a new job in an all new place. I know I'm a good teacher here, but what if I move and I'm the crappiest teacher in the department, the kids hate me, and I just don't fit in? I've been really spoiled having my family so close by the entire time I've been in college. I think they were cursed to move here so that I could still have them around =-)

Anyway, last night, while watching American Idol, my sister and I came up with the perfect solution. She and I are going to become Neil Diamond's back-up dancers. That's right. It's a job opportunity. I think that our dancing moves and singing skills will most definitely put those three ladies who were singing behind Neil last night to shame. My brother-in-law is going to take full responsibility for his unborn child, so that we can go on this singing spree. We're pretty excited about the whole thing. The only problem is we really only have two songs by Neil in our repertoire: "Sweet Caroline" and "We're Comin' to America." I figure we will dazzle everyone so much with our sweet dance moves, they won't notice if we're a little behind on the lyrics.

So there you go. Since Neil is such a supposedly-up-and-coming-hot-ticket, watch for Meredith and I on his tour. You might want to call Adam and Chad periodically, to see how they're holding up without us.

Dear Silly Mother,

As your son's English teacher, I feel obligated to let you in on a little secret. Well, a few secrets, actually.

First of all, your son is obnoxious. On days when he chooses to skip my class, my little heart is secretly doing back flips of joy knowing that I will not have to listen to his rude comments. I will not have to hover over him, reminding him to do his work. I will not have to say things that really, only an elementary school teacher should have to say (i.e. "Stop staring at so-and-so" "Turn around, please" "No, you may not eat the glue" . . . OK, so maybe that last one was a bit of a stretch, but you get the hint . . . in all honesty, DID you let him eat glue as a child? Because that would explain a lot).

Secondly, your son is lying to you. He is failing my class because HE NEVER DOES ANYTHING!!! Not because he has turned things in and I have mysteriously "lost" his assignments. HE IS LAZY!!! Surprisingly enough, I am pretty meticulously organized. Pretty sure I'm not throwing his missing assignments into the recycling bin just for the heck of it.

Lastly, I hope you know that despite how much I really do dislike your child, it really is not affecting his grade. In fact, I have put forth a great amount of effort to make sure he has no idea of my utmost contempt for his personality. I swallow my witty and sarcastic comebacks that are on the tip of my tongue every time he opens his mouth (well, most of the time...), I say hello to him in the hall, and if he ever did an assignment, I would give him a grade he deserved.

I hope you will take this new knowledge into consideration before you email me again. Thank you so much. I wish your son the best of luck in his future loser life.

Yours Sincerely,
Mrs. High School English Teacher

And That's When I Died

I LOVE going to work out. I became a really big fan of it after I took a weight-training class with my London chum, Steph, the semester after the "consumed so much British chocolate I gained 20 pounds" semester abroad. I really, really do like it. If I had my way, we would have a gym membership now (NOT with the evilness that is Gold's Gym of course). But, because we are trying to save money, we do not have a gym membership.

I am a fan of toning with weights, and using an elliptical. I am NOT a fan of running. Anywhere.

Today, after I came home from work, Chad and I went "running." HA! I about died! I am so out of shape; it is not even funny. We're going to start going a few times a week. There is this cute little park near our house, so we "jogged" there and back (with frequent "Chad, I can't . . . breathe. . . must walk . . ." moments along the way). The goal is to eventually be in good enough shape to make it to the park without passing out, so that we can then enjoy the nice jogging paths that meander amongst the tulip beds before returning home. Sounds pleasant, doesn't it? Wish me luck.

Tonight I devoured several OREOS for dessert. . .hmmmmm. . . something wrong with this picture?

The Good, The Bad, and The UGLY

OK. So it's been awhile since I've posted. So, for those of you who have been dying for a taste of my rantings, here's some to tantalize your taste buds.

Gold's Gym

The Good: Hmmmmm... Right now, I can't think of ANYTHING good about Gold's Gym. They are the devil.

The Bad: Chad and I were married almost THREE years ago. THREE. He had a membership at Gold's Gym BEFORE we got married. After we got married, he went in to Gold's Gym to make sure he was squared away. He discontinued his membership, and the floozy girl at the front counter said everything was fine. Well, about a month ago, Chad got a call from a collection agency. Yes, you heard right, my husband, who has never paid a bill late in his entire life, and has perfect credit, got a call from people who are hired to harass people with no financial sense.

The Ugly: Through a whole slew of technicalities that I do not feel like explaining because I get red in the face and enraged with hatred whenever I think of them, we were forced to pay the morally corrupt company of Gold's Gym around $800. That's right. Something went wrong with Chad's automatic payment withdrawal, which the floozy at the front desk obviously didn't inform him of when he went in to the gym, probably because she couldn't read, and so Gold's Gym has been charging us late fees and INTEREST for the last TWO AND A HALF YEARS!!! I cannot even express the utmost contempt and disgust that I feel towards these people.

Ben Folds Concert

The Good: AMAZING concert! Plus, Ben just happened to sing our wedding song. So, I heard the first song that I danced to as a married woman performed live by the artist, which is pretty cool. He's also a fantastic performer. LOVED IT!

The Bad: The doors opened AN HOUR late, which meant we stood in line for an hour longer than we'd planned on. Then, we found out that the only seating was either VIP, or over 21 at the bar. Well, that wouldn't be a problem, except I didn't bring any ID and they were carding EVERYONE. So, standing for another 5 hours was not the most pleasant experience. Particularly because I was packed next to hundreds of other people, most of whom were taller than my less than 5'5" frame. My lower back has never felt so much pain.

The Ugly: The tall man with a FRO who kept teasing me, by moving just enough to the right so that I could see Ben in all his goofy-glasses glory, and then moving his big, blond head right back into my line of view. I think such hairstyles should be banned from concert settings. As should excessive PDA. Who dirty dances and makes out at a Ben Folds concert? YUCK. Didn't want to see that. Thanks.


Graduation

The Good: Chadwick is GRADUATING on FRIDAY! That's right, folks, my husband is going to be DONE with school! We will no longer be starving students! Once he finds a job, he will no longer be on wife support. I can not tell you how much this thrills my little heart. His family has flown in to help us celebrate, which is also going to be a blast. PLUS, I get to take two personal days in light of the festivities.

The Bad: Our two bedroom condo is trying to accommodate eight grown-up-size people...good thing we all love each other.

The Ugly: Last Saturday, while I was deep cleaning our apartment, I decided I should probably try the shower in our second bathroom. Chad and I have never used it because, let's face it: there are only two of us. Why use a second shower that will only equal more cleaning? Anyway, when I went to test it, I discovered that the hot water WAS NOT WORKING! Obviously, we called my brilliant brother-in-law right away, because he knows how to fix just about everything. Well, after he came over and surveyed the situation, the verdict was in: we were going to have to call our psycho landlord. Yes. Our landlord is loony. We love our condo, but the man who owns it is beyond crazy.

Let me explain...When we moved in, all the appliances in the kitchen were Saran wrapped to keep them clean. Hmmmm...I've always just used cleaner to keep mine clean. He also proceeded to tell me that he had taken the liberty to put picture hangers up where he thought we would want to put pictures, and that we didn't need to put any other holes in the wall. OK. I might not be an interior decorator, but I watch enough HGTV to know that putting a picture hook a foot below the top of our very high vaulted ceiling isn't going to be the best placement for any kind of decor. I could go on, but I think you get the idea.

Anyway, since moving in, we've obviously tossed a few of his rules out the window. We haven't gone completely decorating happy because I want to respect the fact that this is his house, but some of his "picture-hanger" placement has been changed, and we've also taken the liberty to add a few more. And, the first thing that went was all the saran wrap covering the front of the microwave.

The point is, I was a bit nervous to call this crazy, because I didn't want him to come into our condo and start freaking out. He's also from China and speaks some-what broken English, which makes communication semi-difficult.

Well, he came. Twice. Banged things around. Went to Home Depot to ask questions. Came back. Banged things around more to the point that he somehow activated the hot water. Now we have a leaking shower. But at least it is working while our guests are here.

So, there you go. Just a few incidents that have been happening at chez Reese lately.

"In the Morning, I'm Makin' Waffles!"

In my first period class today about five senior boys cooked breakfast for all of us. It was awesome! Seriously.

This was the last day of school before Spring Break, so rather than diving into all new material for my students to promptly forget before returning from vacation, I scheduled a Read-a-Thon. This basically means we spend the entire class period basking in the joy that is reading. Students can read whatever they want, as long as they're reading. Magazines, comics, novels, newspapers are all fair game. Anyway, I also told them they could bring snacks, pillows, blankets, etc., because really, if you're going to curl up with a good book, you need to do it right!

Well, a couple of my students asked if they could bring a waffle iron and make waffles. I said yes, provided that they bring enough to share with the entire class, and clean up any mess they made afterwards. In all honesty, I didn't expect them to follow through. They did.

About five minutes before the bell rang, one student showed up with a waffle iron. No batter. But the iron was there. I mentioned just having a waffle iron was going to prove a bit pointless, but he assured me that the rest of the supplies were on their way.

Over the course of the next 10 minutes, more students arrived with the following: a griddle, pancake/waffle batter, butter, maple syrup, two dozen eggs, Sunny D, plates, cups, napkins, forks, and knives.

We had a full on breakfast buffet! Waffles, pancakes, scrambled eggs, and juice. I don't know how much reading actually took place, but it was truly awesome. They orchestrated it beautifully! I was so proud of them. By some miracle, no member of the administration wandered in to ask me what in the heck I was doing. The fire alarm didn't go off. I didn't get fired. It was an all around good time.

Back to Reality

Well, we are now back from our beyond fabulous trip. We had a GREAT time, and the only bad part about it was having to come back. I told Chad he was on his own, that I was going to stay in North Carolina, and that he could figure out a way to pay the rent because I was quitting my job, but I still ended up getting on the plane anyway. After dealing with a snot of a sixteen-year-old (or sassy-mouthed, cell-phone using LIAR as I will choose to more affectionately call her) today, I feel the need to bask in more positive things. That is why you are now privileged to read about our exceptionally wonderful weekend. Here are the highlights, with the first being the BEST, and the rest being in no particular order:

1. The Performance. Watching a sensational performance by an amazing singer, accompanied by a killer jazz combo band. The singer, of course, was my beautiful mother-in-law. SHE WAS AMAZING! I am so thankful that we got to watch her perform; it is something I will never forget. I have heard her sing before, but this performance really highlighted how truly talented she is (and how FUNNY, my goodness, she had us all in stitches during some parts of her performance). I just wish they'd had a dance floor, because she had me wanting to get up and dance. (Chad, on the other hand was thankful that they DIDN'T, so that I couldn't force him to dance with me.) Can I just say, after watching her sing, I realized how truly thankful I am for the mother that she chose to be? She easily could have pursued a singing career. It is obvious that she gave up a lot of opportunities so that she could be an amazing mother, which is why I have such an amazing husband. Thanks, Joy!

2. The food. OH MY HEAVENS, THE FOOD! Did I ever eat!!! I think I probably gained back every pound I've lost since the summer. There was Bojangles, Carolina style BBQ, Andy's (five words: chili cheese burger and orangeade), and a plethora of food that came from the kitchens of Joy Reese and Prissy Hill, and what is NOT to savor about that? I don't regret a single calorie.

3. The weather. Everyone kept apologizing for the weather, but to us, it felt like a tropical paradise compared to Utah. We went for a drive with the top down, sat out on the back porch in shorts, and I got to wear sandals for the first time in ages. Plus, we got to listen to the rain, and oh how I do love sitting on the back porch and soaking in that sound. We loved it.

4. Shopping. Let's just say...I came back with more pairs of shoes than I left with...enough said.

5. The people. The people you know are happy to see you, and so are the people you don't. Everyone in the South is so friendly, and I love it. It was so fun to live in North Carolina last summer and really get to know so many people from Chad's home town. It was great to see so many people that we know and love. (Even though some visits were all too brief, sorry Wendi!)

6. Family. I always LOVE having time to spend together and this was no exception. It was especially wonderful to see Tyler, since we had not seen him since he got home from his mission.

So there you go, the memories of a wonderful weekend to console me after my encounter with aforementioned, hormone-driven teenager. AND, tomorrow is the last teaching day before Spring Break! YEA!!!

Sneaky, Sneaky

I am in North Carolina right now. Oh how sneaky, sneaky we are! We came to surprise my mother-in-law. She is singing at a huge event tonight, and we get to go cheer her on. She had NO CLUE we were coming. I love surprises, so today has been awesome! Can I just say, the weather is FABULOUS! I am going to Bojangles right now, so ta-ta, I shall talk to you later!

Since When Can't Rain be Moisture???

OK. I really hate to complain about Utah, yet again, but today it is unavoidable. I feel the need to complain. To vent. To wallow in my self-pity. This morning I woke up to get ready for church. Keep in mind, last Sunday was EASTER SUNDAY people. EASTER. As in, it's time time to break out the pastel colors and sandals in the wardrobe. But alas, while I was running around like a crazy person trying to make bed-head look presentable (we are always running late on Sunday mornings) Chad went to the window and informed me that there was about three inches of snow on the ground.

I laughed at this, knowing that, surely, he was just joking. Because, hey, as previously stated, last Sunday was Easter. And you can't wear pastels in the snow. After he coaxed me to come to the window to see for myself, I let out a scream of rage.

When we went to church, all the Utahans were elated. In heaven. On cloud nine. "When I woke up this morning, and saw the beautiful snow on my thirsty lawn, I knew today was going to be a great day," one man said. ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME???!!!

Here's the deal. I realize that we're in "a drought." That we need "moisture." (A word that I have never really liked very much by the way. Can't we just say we need water? Or rain?) Anyway, I realize the need for something falling from the sky to give us some water. BUT COME ON! Hasn't anyone here ever heard of rain? I love a good thunderstorm. I would adore seeing a light sprinkling, or even a brief downpour, of rain to wash away all the nasty inversion filling the valley and leaving behind a clean, fresh sky. What I don't want to see is SNOW covering the ground 2 DAYS BEFORE APRIL!!! COME ON, PEOPLE!!!

It has yet to stop snowing. Sadness fills my heart.