Over/Re-View

I know, how much more excited can we get about my birthday?
But a lot of things occurred post birthday post, so a summation is required I think.
First, how did this happen?:

It has my name on it. I understand they can program it to say anything they want, but how do they do it so it only shows up on my computer?
Next, Tarzan bought me a lovely present:

So I can make pesto with all the lovely basil in the front yard without having to scrape extra bits off the ceiling. (Our current food processor is a tad ancient and doesn't lock closed anymore, so ingredients can take a walk during rotation if they like.)
And then another present last night:

For my feet which do not like shoes or socks and so often get dry and cracked and he has found the only lotion in the world that does not cause him to break out in hives to touch it, so we are both happy when he rubs my feet. Then, a friend from high school sent me this:

Tarzan ALSO took me out for dinner. We had hoped to find the only restaurant in the universe that served dim sum after 4pm, but it wasn't to be. The food was "a feast for the eyes" as my mother-in-law likes to tell us is a big deal in Chinese cuisine: 

And it also tasted really good:

Tarzan tried valiantly for a few minutes and then decided he was too hungry to manage the chopsticks and asked for a fork:

One day we will make it to a dim sum establishment.
While it is still serving the dim sum.
And of course there was the ego stroking that is Facebook's reminding people it was my birthday. Even if some of those people only chat or leave a message once a year, it still makes a person feel special.

This is me and all in all, it was a very lovely birthday. Thanks peeps.

Top Of The FB Page Today

There are days when FB says just what I need it to say to make me laugh. I especially like the darker of the two blue ones:

 

This is me and that was amusing.

5:00 AM

What is special about five o'clock in the morning?
I'll tell you.
It is the hour in which anyone who has anything to say to me, decides to say it.
Not in emergency type ways - not, "the sky is falling!" or "we just won the lottery!" kind of way - but in a non-essential, it can most definitely wait a few hours until Jane has propped her eyelids open kind of way.
Three times in the last week I have been woken up - and expected to say intelligent things! - in the 5am hour.
This is not easy for me. Perhaps it is the architectural experience or just natural inclinations, but I am not an early morning person.
Way late into the night? Sure! Call me, text me at 11pm, no sweat.
It matters not how much sleep I have had the night before; go to bed at 10pm, 11pm, 2am even, but please do not try and rouse me before 8am.
I know, if I had kids I am sure it would be different. Either that or my children would learn quickly how to pour themselves some cereal and turn on the cartoons.

This is me not coherent that early.

I Spy A Bishop

So yes, for those who haven't guessed, Tarzan was sustained Bishop of our Ward (local congregation) on Sunday.
We invited friends and family to be present for the sustaining vote and some stayed for the setting apart process afterwards.
Tarzan, once again, gave some fabulous remarks. His uncles particularly like the bit about "when the flood waters are rising is not the time to learn carpentry."
It was a few days after the fact - a few VERY busy days (more to come on that later) - that I received a lovely note from Flieghund and BGE, thanking us for our invitation to come and offering Tarzan their support and confidence in his new position.
Attached to the email were a few clandestine photos. Pictures aren't usually taken in sacrament meeting (I felt almost naughty looking at these) and I have not sat in the congregation for so many years, I forgot what it looks like from down there.
So here you have it, Tarzan's inaugural statements:

If you look to the lower left of the window you will see me. Good thing I wore red:

 This is me and if his mother thinks his hair is grey now...

Weird Dream #43

Things have been going well here with Rocketgirl & Co.
Condor is adorable of course, the weather is less than stellar but not as horrible as feared and the woman herself is far better than her own posts let on. She's managing as the mother of three with style and aplomb.
I have felt a little superfluous serving mainly as a companion and family gossip dispenser. Mostly because I came all intending to do nighttime duty so she could remember what sleeping for a full 8 hours feels like, and SHE WON'T LET ME DO IT. Something about it making her feel like she has control of the situation...
This leaves me getting a lot of sleep and last night, I dreamed a really vivid and intense scene that left me exceptionally weirded out.
I dreamt I was getting married. To Rufus - an ex-boyfriend from USC - though I hadn't seen him since college. We were to meet in an office in the temple - which looked like a hospital - in order to get reacquainted. Rufus arrived in a wheelchair with both feet in those walking boots they give you when you sprain an ankle or break a foot. He also brought his ex-wife and four children. He kissed like I remember though and we spent time talking and looking at old photos when my mother came to tell us to hurry up because we were holding up the line. That's when I realized I had forgotten my make-up bag and had only one pair of shoes - apparently I need two pairs of shoes to get married. We were going ahead with it despite my anxiety and were queued up to be next when Tarzan arrived, in a broken down, old, blue, car and came to stand with the crowd. When I saw him I ran up, threw my arms around his neck, said, "it's always been you" and kissed him thoroughly.
We walked out to his car - before or after being married I do not know - through the wet parking lot of the temple/hospital, past a food truck with a very long line of people and stopped to talk out by his car, where, after a short while, a man wandered by with several black antelope following him. It was as we turned to look at them that I woke up.
It was so real I had to talk to Tarzan this morning just so he could tell me everything was okay.

This is me and it was trippy.

On The Fly

I received an unexpected call this evening on the way home from work; from Fleighund's wife, BGE, with an invite for dinner.
We have been trying to get together since before Thanksgiving but schedules being what they are and holidays being what they are we never made it.
Spur of the moment seemed to work for us.
We went and ate and laughed and discussed how many towels a couple needs to be happy and watched a video of Tarzan's parents driving around a crazy ice resort in the country they are visiting.

This is me and we have nice friends.

Would That I Had Learned

There are times when I feel all proud of myself for recognizing notes or being able to dink along on the piano for a bit.
Today, when I sat behind the man who not only could play Mannheim Steamroller's 'Stille Nacht,' but accompany two violinists who weren't sure where they were all the time, and still have it sound good, I knew my talents do not lie in that direction.
Not even a little bit.
I am a little envious of their skills, but even more glad I know people who can do it and are willing to share.

This is me and tomorrow will be good.

Via The Facebook

I do not love Facebook as a lot of people do. It's good for getting pictures to and from across the world and it's nice to catch up with old and new friends, but I guess the point is that I don't see every trend or cute picture that goes on because I don't visit that much.
And that's okay with me.
It also means that when I do see something good or appropriate, I find ever so much more interesting because I haven't seen 25 other things, equally as good or appropriate.
The short version is, when I signed on today I was met with a statement from RHM that perfectly captured my state of being these days. With her permission I quote it to you now:
"With great power comes ridiculous responsibilities."
Summed up the whole day in six words. I need to be that efficient and then I might not have the challenges I do.

This is me and it's so true.

First Dinner Party

I'm not sure we can call it a dinner party if there were only four of us but for what we think is the first time in almost twelve years of marriage, Tarzan and I had another couple over to eat with and chat with and "hang" with.
We've had family over for dinner before, and the missionaries, and RHM is one of our favorite guests. (I don't know if it counts as the same sort of event if the person who you ate dinner with last night is also sleeping on your couch and eating breakfast with you in the morning.)
But this time, we invited a couple that we know from church. They are also interested in family history and from the same part of the world as Tarzan's ancestors, and so we had some fun with making Polish food and chatting about the typical things. (How we met our spouses, where we grew up, what was in the sauce, allergies, the ususal.)
They were here three hours and I think everyone liked the food, the company and the conversation.
No one was required to have a good time, no rides were involved before or afterwards and it was nice.

This is me and we hosted other grown-ups.

High School Revisited

So, all these years I have been using Facebook for games and checking out photos posted by family. Sometimes I comment on thought provoking status-es from friends. I have searched for and found friends from high school, or grade school, always with half excitement of catching up and half trepidation that we won't have anything to talk about.
Inevitably we "friend" each other and maybe a brief message or two pass and then we cease to communicate ever again. They have lives, I have a life, we don't have much in common anymore except the few years at the same school.
It's not like I was an uber-popular thing anyway. There aren't THAT many for me to find.
I never parted from a boyfriend in anger, so there's no angst to meet them online again and most of them are married, I'm married, we're all happy, so no dramas or anything.
Again, not like I had a string to leave behind in any case.
In short, I've seen no need for FB. In fact, I stopped even logging in for about six months this year because there was no reason.
But recently, I received a friend request from a guy I went to high school with. Yes, we dated for a while and he was my first kiss, but neither of those are the reasons we got in touch and apparently can write miles of messages to each other. He is a really nice guy. Still a really nice guy. He had dreams of writing music when we were younger and he's actually gone on to do it - all without getting a big head about it. He loves musicals and get this - 'Wicked' is his favorite Broadway show too! He also likes 'Jekyll & Hyde' which makes him my best friend ever. (Tarzan is a doll and has many good qualities but he thinks musicals are dumb.)
For once I really am able to pick up where we left off, like the intervening 18 years don't matter. It's nice to have friends like that.

This is me and some things really are as good as I remember them.

I Try To Use It In Real Life

Every time I have a cold I am reminded of an observation my friend Cogent made years ago; part of the fatigue one feels when ill is because one is required to blow one's nose every 90 seconds.
So true.
And because it hurts my head to think too much, I am falling back on one of the provided prompts for this month.
Why do I like writing?
Two words: delete button.
Writing is so great because, whether texting, typing, emailing or IMing, the delete button let's you edit what you are about to say so it comes out the right way, rather than the first way you think of it. My first thoughts are not always the most coherent and 'delete' lets me fix it.
The down side to this self editing is that I try and use it in real life. I can't count the number of times I've cut, or dropped or said something I wasn't supposed to and tried to 'control Z' it.
Doesn't work and people just look at you weird.

This is me and I think we should petition for 'delete' to be allowed in real life.

She Remembered

In which I FINALLY bake cookies for my first ever contest winner, Cathie, remember to take pictures of the cooking process AND possibly overdo it. You be the judge.

Cream the butter:

Mix in the sugars:

Eggs and vanilla:

Flour, salt, baking soda AND powder:

Add the oatmeal:

White chocolate and butterscotch chips:

Roll the dough into balls:

Bake at 350 degrees for 11 minutes and cool on wire racks:

This is me and that wasn't so hard to remember.

One Percent

NOTE: I know I've been incommunicado for a week or two - refer to my vow of not excusing myself - but I really haven't forgotten to document all the fun. And I have been starting posts...just not finishing them. Witness this episode I almost completed from 08/14/2010

We were lucky for the last few days to have RHM visiting. And though she's one of MY dearest friends from college, Tarzan and ATL have adopted her into the clique of They Who Sit On The Couch With Their Laptops:

She was sweet enough to take us to dinner - such good Tangerine Beef! - and we took her to one of the museums (almost) in town. As a designer, this is one of those "if only" situations where there was an unlimited budget and no restrictions other than 'spend it all.' The donor wanted to get rid of the money - tax evasion maybe? - but the city wanted the revenue from visitors, so the museum is free but parking costs $15. There are probably five people who live close enough to walk to the thing and everyone else has to drive. The experience is needs to be experienced at least once if you live here and I deem it worth the exorbitant parking fee if you go with friends:

There is a lot of travertine:

Also a lot of stairs:

A few elevators, but I get the feeling the architect did not want to include them, was forced to for accessibility reasons so he stuck them in the most out of the way places:

Dude had serious ideas about how people should tranverse this place. Witness the walkways:

I do particularly love these:

Because from far away it looks very organic, rooftop growing, living umbrella kind of thing but when you get next to it you realize they are steel reinforcing bars:

This set of directions amused me. This was the sign at the bottom of the stairs:

We went up the stairs:

And this was the sign at the top of the stairs:

In the end we had to walk back down, around the stairs, out a door and up a RAMP to get to the level they were alluding to. All that rigmarole for this sculpture plaza:

Oy.

There were alternative sculptures - modern versus the classical - on the adjacent lawn. Here is me not touching one of them:

The maze was cool:

In fact, all the landscaping was lovely:

Maybe I'm just not an art person?

We did have a good time, so that's all that really matters:

This is me and we were culturally edified.

We Have A Winner

I think I've given you all enough time to think of a decent response to "How Embarrassed WAS I?" and so I now officially declare a winner.
Cathie is the winner!
I started reading Cathie's blog because Rocketgirl told me to. But I kept reading because she's funny, smart, she loves to cook and SHE remembers to take pictures. Also, if you ask, she will come, comment, or anything else you have asked of her. She's awesome and we've never met.
So, Cathie, send me your address and favorite variety of cookie via tempest30ATgmailDOTcom and they are as good as yours.

This is me and when she says the word, the cookies are in the mail.

It's Always Been Blue

I totally copied Cathie's post today and took the color test to see if my favorite color has changed:

It hasn't. It's still blue.

The interpretation is fairly accurate I suppose. I am, by nature, an introvert (55%) and have had to grow extrovert wings (45%) to keep up with my husband, his family, my profession (WHY did I want to be an architect?) and all the tasks that come my way.

I am balanced in my understanding of the environment with 35% morals, 33% ideas/feelings/experiences and only 31% facts. Facts just cloud up my mind anyway.

My relationships with others are 53% influenced by my own creativity and spiritual impulse and 47% by my family and personal ties.

My decision making is 65% inner conviction and 34% conversing with others. Does that make me independent or just stubborn?

Tarzan should be happy to know that I take my spouse's sensibility into account 43% of the time. I am driven by my personal goals 56% of the time.

Apparently I am imaginative, intellectual and well-thought (I don't really understand that one) but I don't care too much about others. Perhaps a little resentment still lingers from last night.

This is me and the short version is I am a moderate person. Straight down the middle of the road. At least according to my color preferences.

Weird Dream #31

That was, quite possibly, the most continuous dream I have ever had. And I finished it before I woke up. (That really is weird.)
I was living in a dorm of some sort, maybe as a WAC or a WAV, at the start of WWII. On my first day there I met two girls - we were all walking down the very narrow corridor carrying dishes of food, couldn't pass each other, so we chatted and became friends - and they stayed my friends for the whole war. In a very Where The Boys Are moment we met three guys, with names like Biff, Joe and Buzz, and we fell in love. (I think mine looked like Tarzan, their faces were all very fuzzy.) In addition to our official duties we gave shows in a very USO-esque way. My guy and I couldn't sing so we danced. RHM was there, she waved at me from a parade she was marching in, until I remembered she couldn't have been alive in 1943 - could any of us? - and she changed to a baby who I found in a pile of orphans. It wasn't too hard as she had told me how to find her; she would be the only one who didn't "smell like milk." Somehow all seven of us survived the war - in separate units; I spent some time in an army hospital nursing soldiers - and the celebration was fantastic when we were released to go home. Sadly, the first of my friends to leave died when her plane crashed and because of that the rest of us drove or took the train. My soldier and I were married but apparently had a falling out. We were reunited years later for a benefit to save a theater - all very Barkleys of Broadway except the dance routine was more Dirty Dancing - and made up. There was more to it, something about us teaching dance classes and helping the theater owner find the love of his life. The longer I am awake the vaguer the details become.

This is me and that could be a full length movie - albeit a boring one.

Plus Three: Part 1

Rather than the traditional whining about how old I sound - not feel because I don't feel the way 33 sounds but sound because 33 sounds old no matter what comparisons people make - and what I don't have, let's skip all that and move directly to what I have accomplished since last we met this way.

• Led the group in planning and executing a surprise party for Tarzan's mother
• Celebrated with Tarzan, our 8th wedding anniversary
• A few weeks later, celebrated my blog second anniversary
• Moved ATL. Twice
• Lost two cats and quasi-adopted another
• Served on a jury for a misdemeanor
• Went to The Happiest Place on Earth with a whole lot of family and met my niece Rosy
• Went to QC's wedding ON Tarzan's birthday
• My team won the Rose Bowl. Again
• Visited The Frozen North not for a happy reason but with great company
• Saw Celtic Woman live in concert
• Spent a LOT of time in a dentist's chair but the upside is I think it's fixed for real now
• Attended the wedding of one of my best friends
• Spent a lot of time caring for Tarzan's grandfather and then attended his funeral
• Saw Topol live in Fiddler On the Roof
• Bought a new dishwasher - and it's awesome still
• Went to Circus World
• Saw Spamalot with Tarzan
• Planted and actually harvested some tomatoes and cucumbers off the back porch
• Visited Rocketgirl in The Land of Cheese, played with Sunshine and met Woody only a few hours old
• Cleaned out the shed
• Spent a week with my family in The Real Desert and canned a lot of pickles

So it's not as dire a picture as I thought when I began the list. I'm not a completely lazy bum. And now, some picture-age of the party today.

These three ladies sang Happy Birthday the minute I walked in the door:

These are possibly the sweetest people on the planet:

They brought the cake:

Turtle ice cream cake. Sooo gooey and good. This is The Boss:

He's actually a doll too and really fun. This is the guy who works with me most regularly but he doesn't like having his picture taken:

Good thing it's my birthday and I get what I want:

Today is the actual birthday but more partying will come this weekend so stay tuned.

This is me, 33.

How Do You Party?

So, my birthday is next week - not anything momentous like Rocketgirl, but still it's a birthday - and I am actually getting a few party opportunities. There will be one celebration with Tarzan - probably the Saturday after and he says he bought me a present already which is AWESOME - one on Sunday with my family and then one at the food bank where I volunteer every Thursday.
So the question for you, fair Internets, is WHAT should I do for each one? Should I try and host an additional party?
Should I have cake three times? (That's a lot of cake.) It's not exactly kosher to bring half a cake from the previous celebration I'm guessing. What about cupcakes? Is it cool to have a pie? Do I want a pie? Or ice cream cake? Or ice cream AND cake? What about additional/alternate food? Music? Balloons? How much planning should I really be doing for my own party? So I ask you to tell me what you would do if it were your situation.


This is me, getting ready for my birthday.

If Only It Were That Easy

RHM will likely send me a punch in the nose when she reads this BUT I will tell you anyway. I am watching a new show on the television these days.
Glee.
Yes, another TV show for Jane to clog her DVR with...but really, is it a surprise that a show about people who sing and dance is a huge draw? Did you hear that - SINGING with DANCING - it's like the holy mecca for me. (The main chick, Lea Michele reminds me a bit of a young Idina Menzel.) And considering the special guests - Kristin Chenoweth people! - who have been on the show already - and it's only in it's fifth episode - I would continue to watch it for that alone, even if the storyline was horrific. And it isn't. Not really horrible.
Now, I understand irony and artistic license, which is emphasis for effect, and satire and sarcasm. I get that they are mocking the high school experience and not portraying it honestly but still. Really? It is amusing to be sure - the pilot was just incredible - but I am also sure that one decent club will not change all of their lives and make high school bearable.
Maybe I am a little skeptical because I DIDN'T have an angst-y high school experience. I had my friends and my activities and so did others and the twain did never meet, even in my Frozen North high school that had only 900 students. I never met all the other teenagers, I didn't know everyone in my CLASS, let alone the entire school. I didn't run into the same people regularly. If someone needed to be avoided, then it wasn't hard. I never went home in tears, I never fought anyone for a boy, there were very few confrontations in the hallway, I never dreaded the 6-7 hours a day I spent at high school. If my experience was unusual, then I am very sorry for everyone else because high school can be just fine.
And that is what I find a little hard to stomach in Glee. For the interpretation to be so dramatic, how bad is what is considered the normal?

This is me, loving the musical nature of the show but the storyline is beyond my ken. Did high school suck for you?

Ode To A Friend

It seems less than it is to call RHM merely a friend. Even 'my best friend' doesn't seem like enough. Stupendous isn't adequate either, but she is all of those things. Commenting on her service for others and desire to help doesn't really convey the reality of being on the receiving end. But I have, more times than I can count. But she keeps doing it. And it has not been the easiest year for her. What with the budget situation and the cutbacks - fortunately she got to keep her job - and then so many family members getting sick and/or passing away.
I am so proud of her strength and compassion and concern for others especially in the face of such personal trials.
I am just super impressed with her and can't really explain the depth to which I admire her.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

You're a marvel, RHM, you really are.

This is me, Happy Birthday to you.