Because I've always wanted a finger mustache...

And me an Ben have always wanted to wish The King a happy birthday while wearing one.



(Sorry for the bad photography. Must work on self-portrait setting.)

Happy Birthday, Mr. King!! Sorry this is late.

The time I wanted desperately to say "Don't you know who I am?"

I've mentioned before how much I love my gynecologist. It borders on obsession (ok, maybe not. But I did name my son after him. Not a grandpa or favorite uncle or president of the USA. The ob/gyn who delivered him, thank you very much.)

So anyway. My dear doctor is retiring this month. I hate that he's doing the with a passion, but nonetheless, I made an appointment for my special, ahem, exam, 6 months early just so I can go in and say good-bye (what a way to say good-bye, mind you.) I got thinking last week that while I was there, I might just talk to him about switching my IUD so that I don't have to find a new doctor to do it next year when it expires. So I made a call to the nurse. The conversation went like this (mind you, I was on the treadmill at the time.)

Nurse: why are you calling me?

Me: (sucking air) Sorry, I'm on the treadmill. But I want to get a new IUD next week when I visit Scott so that I don't have to worry about finding a new doc when it dies next year.

Nurse: can you repeat that, you loud-breathing person?

Me: blah blah repeat repeat. Can I have a new IUD next week?

Nurse: let me find out.

Me: Um, does that mean your going to preauthorize with my insurance?

Nurse: Yes. (Click.)

So. I wait 24 hours and get this call:

Nurse: Hello, patient. Your insurance doesn't cover IUDs, so you are on your own. (Click) (Ok, so no click, but it might as well have been click.)

My desired response: DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I AM? (But I assure you, not what I really said.)

Scott loves me. He tells me so each time I meet him for my whoopdi appointment. He talks to me about all the other ladies in the neighborhood that he knows (a significant number, btw). He asks about my husband and sons. He tells me I'm like his daughter. He's offered to not charge me for my appointments before because he didn't know if I had insurance. When I thought I was going to have to leave him while pregnant with Ben, he found a way to deliver Ben.

So, I was nice to the mean nurse who rebuffed my request. I calmly hung up the phone and planned to talk to Scott the next week. He wouldn't tell me I was on my own, and I knew it.

Fast forward 1 hour. Scott calls me on my cell phone, heralding me as his favorite patient. He tells me that he'll give me the IUD at his cost. I ask his cost (more than I want to spend, thank you very much) and we chat. He tells me to come in and visit with him anyway next week.

I sat there, smug in my triumph over mean nurse, knowing I was anything but on my own; well, at least for a week. Then he'll be retired and I'll have to try to like one of his partners as much. Hmph.

So, no new IUD for me this time. And I have to find a new doctor. But what if I'd actually said that to the nurse? Wouldn't it have been awesome?

Have you ever been tempted to ask someone, Don't you know who I am?

Post-publishing edit: I hope that this post doesn't sound snobby. I'd probably never actually say "Do you know who I am" because, you know, I'm not really anyone. But it was funny (in my mind). Now I'm all paranoid, 6 hours post-publishing. I really just like my ob/gyn, and will miss him a lot. That is all.

Chance encounters.

Just seeing her car (and now thinking about it) put butterflies in my stomach.

There Shane and I were, driving home from work together. There was an accident on the freeway, so I took a different route home. As we passed a certain bank, he said, "Hey, there's a black Sebring in the drive-up of blah blah bank." I looked at him in disbelief, then craned my neck around while we waited for the light to change. I was granted a vision of Herself, pulling out of the drive-through and heading for home.

I know all families have issues. Some of them are easily looked over, and others aren't. A few years back, a chasm broke up part of our family. It was all he said, she did, I'm mad, you suck. You know: typical, selfish reasons that seem really important and good until a few years have gone by and children have grown up and still no phone calls. No invites to Chrismas dinner or Easter brunch. Part of it makes our lives easier; after all, one less family to throw into hectic holidays. A few less birthday gifts to purchase.

But all the same, it sucks. It sucks walking across the street to the Sam's Club entry and looking into the eyes of individuals who you used to talk to on a daily basis, all the while wondering if they are secretly wishing they could run you over. Thinking about the fact that the child holding your hand has no idea that those people are related to him. Seeing a car at a bank and a glimpse of reddish hair and thinking of the life she is going back to. Getting butterflies in your stomach because it all rises up again in your heart how stupid and childish and pointless it all is.

And yet still being a party to it. Unwilling to mend it, because so much has passed and I know they won't forgive (forgive what, I want to scream, but I know they have their Reasons. I imagine them cradling them to their hearts at night, snug in their justification.) Remembering the time between, before we knew that we had been banished, wondering at the sudden silence of unreturned phone calls.

I know those butterflies are messages from my spirit, which is uncomfortable in having unresolved family issues. Which knows that families should be together, not strangers in the aisles of Sam's Club. But I'm weak, and I can't do it all. I can't apologize for things taken out of context or choices wrongly percieved.

So I'll just wait for the light to turn, and rehash it all again for a moment with the only other person who knows it all. Be grateful for the family who hasn't shut me out, who has returned my phone calls.

And when the light turns, I drive on home.

I stole this from my sister Amy. It's pretty fun.

***20 YEARS AGO (1989)***
1) How old were you? 13
2) Who were you dating? Hmm, dating? Not even. I probably liked Jared C, who was a total dork, but he probably didn’t know who I was.
3) Where did you work? I didn’t work. But I spent 5 hours a day doing gymnastics. It would have been the year I first competed optional routines (meaning I had a routine different from anyone elses), like you see in the Olympics. Only I couldn’t do all the cool tricks, unlike the 10-year-olds in my class. Sucks being 13 and tall in the gymnastics world.
4) Where did you live? With my parents and sister Amy.
5) Where did you hang out? Gymnastics.
6) Did you wear contacts and/or glasses? Yes.
7) Who were your best friends? School, Amber, Bethany. At the gym Jessica, Mindy,
8) How many tattoos did you have? None
9) How many piercings did you have? 2.
10) What kind of car did you drive? Didn’t drive.
11) Had you been to a real party? Nope. I don’t think I’d even been to a birthday party in years. I was a loser, remember?
12) Had you had your heart broken. Nope.
13) Were you Single/Dating/Taken/Married/Divorced? Single
14) Any kids? No, but I had 3 nieces. Jacqui was about a month old.

***15 YEARS AGO (1994)***

1) How old were you? 18.
2) Who were you dating? Eric C. Oh, March was a bad month. I think we broke up for the first time that month. I remember skipping school and drinking a lot of coffee at Salt Lake Roasting Company. Oh, wait, I always drank a lot of coffee at SLRC. It was a month and a half before I would meet Shane.
3) Where did you work? University of Utah Bookstore.
4) Where did you live? In an apartment on 7th south in Salt Lake with Cindy (future wife of Eric C.)
5) Where did you hang out? Coffee shops, Eric’s apartment
6) Did you wear contacts and/or glasses? Yes.
7) Who were your best friends? Cindy, Rebecca, Janna, Angie
8) How many tattoos did you have? None
9) How many piercings did you have? 4, in my ears.
10) What kind of car did you drive? Toyota Tercel.
11) Had you been to a real party? Oh yes. Every weekend was a party.
12) Had you had your heart broken? Yep.
13) Were you Single/Taken/Married/Divorced? Taken and broken up all at once. It was the story of that relationship.
14) Any kids? But I had 5 nieces (BreAnn was 13 months old).

***10 YEARS AGO (1999)***
1) How old were you? 23
2) Who were you dating? Married to Shane for 1 ½ months.
3) Where did you work? At a credit union.
4) Where did you live? In an apartment in Holladay
5) Where did you hang out? With other married friends at their houses.
6) Did you wear contacts and/or glasses? Yes.
7) Who were your best friends? Amy, Rebecca, Angie
8) How many tattoos did you have? none
9) How many piercings did you have? 4 earring holes, but only 3 occupied
10) What kind of car did you drive? A green Saturn without power steering, but with air conditioning, which beat all my other cars
11) Had you been to a real party? Yes.
12) Had you had your heart broken? Yes. But not recently.
13) Were you Single/Taken/Married/Divorced? Married
14) Any kids? Nope. But we had a fish. And the nieces/nephews count had jumped to 6 nieces and 2 nephews.

***5 YEARS AGO (2004)***
1) How old were you? 28
2) Who were you dating? Married to Shane for 5 years.
3) Where did you work? Insurance company.
4) Where did you live? In my house
5) Where did you hang out? At home with John and Melanie.
6) Did you wear contacts and/or glasses? Yes.
7) Who were your best friends? Amy, Rebecca, Melanie
8) How many tattoos did you have? none
9) How many piercings did you have? 4 earring holes, but only 3 occupied
10) What kind of car did you drive? An Xterra
11) Had you been to a real party? Yes.
12) Had you had your heart broken? Yes. But not recently.
13) Were you Single/Taken/Married/Divorced? Married
14) Any kids? 1, Thomas. But we had 2 cats. And the nieces/nephews count had jumped, but I can't remember how much.

***TODAY (2009)***
1) How old are you? 33
2) Who are you dating? Just my husband
3) Where do you work? Insurance company
4) Where do you live? In my house.
5) Where do you hang out? At John and Melanie’s, and at home.
6) Did you wear contacts and/or glasses? Yep.
7) Who are your best friends? Amy, Melanie, Shelly, Rebecca
8) How many tattoos did you have? None
9) How many piercings did you have? 4 earring holes, 2 occupied
10) What kind of car did you drive? Mazda
11) Had you been to a real party? Yep.
12) Had you had your heart broken? Yes, but it’s been a long time
13) Were you Single/Taken/Married/Divorced? Married
14) Any kids? 2. Well, 3 if you count Shane, and 6 if you count the kids, Shane, and the cats. And the nieces/nephews count stands at 17, including nephews-in-law and great nieces and nephews. Whew. We've been busy.

My inability to spellcheck.

Yes. I admit it. I've had some misspelled words of late. Partial words. Dangling participles. What has happened to my grammar?

The problem is that I think I don't need spellcheck. I'm an excellent speller, I thinks to myself. But, I'm not an excellent, error-free typer. Yes, I'm fast, but I make lots of mistakes. And I've been lazy lately at editing myself.

So. Sorry for all the misspelled words of late. I'll start using that little ABC button more often. Like right now. Of which I just discovered "typer" is not a real word. Imagine that.

Carry on with your day. Be hopeful for me.

Book review a-rama

Hello. I leave blogging for weeks at a time and then return only to give book reviews. Sorry.

Sea of Poppies, Amitav Ghosh



Holy cow this is a good book. It is set in the 1830's in India at the beginning of the Opium war that China had with Great Britain. It intermingles the stories of numerous characters (a runaway widow and her lower-caste lover; a high-caste former Rajah who is convicted of a crime and banished from India; a mulatto American who passes himself off as white after all his former shipmates die off; a french orphan and her Bengalize foster brother, and more) who are all set to board a ship called the Ibis, sailing for the Maritius Island(s) (I can't remember if it is a single island or a group; sorry.)



The story is long--over 500 pages--and very detailed. But the details are so entertaining and make the characters incredibly real. I can't imagine how much research went into writing this novel; it is impecuously written, using the dialogue and lingo of sailers from this time. When I read the original review, it talked about how there aren't many books these days that truly tell a story. This book fits the bill and more. Check it out if you really want a mouthful. (It took me almost 3 weeks to read it, and I was trying. That's saying something!)








Ah, Toni Morrison. I love her writing for so many reasons. One of my favorite college courses was a class on Morrison and Alice Walker. I've read almost all her books, and was excited to read this one. She didn't disappoint.



A Mercy is a slave-narrative, but not in the traditional way. It explores all the facets of slavery. How, in a way, we are all slaves to something or someone. The man who must cowtow to the people who give him employment. The wife who is subject to the whims and desires of a husband. The slave mother who must give away her children to keep them from harms way. The slave child, who must live a life away from her mother without knowing why. The adolescent girl who loves a man who will never love her back.



Of course the writing is poignant. Of course it makes you want to weep and nod your head and laugh all at once. It's Toni Morrison, after all. If you have enjoyed her other books, pick this one up. If you've never read one by her, pick this one up. It's less than 200 pages, and reads incredibly fast. But it strikes a chord on so many levels.



Painted Veil, W. Somerset Maugham


Can I be an english major and NOT know about Maugham? Apparently. Anway. I read this for my last SDBBE book, and it was fabulous. It tells the story of Kitty, who's affair with another man is discovered by her husband.


The realities of adultery are prominent in this book. That the man you cheat with will never leave his wife. That the fun and excitement wear off when you think your husband is outside the door.


I really enjoyed Kitty's story and watching her grow from a self-centered little cheat to a woman. I thought that the transformation time was a little fast, but it is fiction afterall, so I'm willing to overlook some of that. I think I'll check out a few more of Maugham's novels in the future.


Anywhere. I'm starting the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society (or whatever it is called) now. Onward and forward!

Ode to Whirlpool

Right now, my counter tops look like this:

This is the detritus from a batch of cookies, some hard-boiled eggs for egg-salad sandwiches, cheese and ranch for a quesadilla for Ben, and a box of corn dogs.

It looks like this because of what I had delivered this morning by the Lowes truck. It looks like this:When we built our house almost 10 years ago, Shane decided that a self-cleaning over was overrated, so we opted for the manual model. I told him that he could be the one doing the manual labor. Now, after all this time, he's tired of scrubbing the oven out. I've often referred to our stove as a "Shane-cleaning oven" just for fun.

He wasn't having fun. So we found this little friend at Lowes and they delivered it today. I consummated the relationship by baking cookies and boiling hard-boiled eggs. Both were delicious. If you were here, I'd have shared.

Shane is really excited because the top is flat, so no more scrubbing cooked on rice from the dripper pans under the burners. I bet he can't wait to scrub the top of this baby.

Anyway. Here's to self-cleaning ovens and hot chocolate chip cookies!