Ender's Game

Hey! A review of a movie I saw when it was still in theaters and also current! Groundbreaking. The lengths I will go to for NaBloPoMo...
I love the book 'Ender's Game' so when I saw they were actually going to make (and release) the movie (it's been promised on and off for years) I was both thrilled and terrified.
Thrilled because it's a great book and has the potential to be a great movie and then terrified because if it's a horrible movie I can't un-see it and it will ruin my reading of the book in the future.
I am happy to say I can still read the book and not hate the images that come to mind.
Much.
Tarzan, ATL and I went last night to see the flick and I was surprised at how much it was like the book and how much it wasn't; impressed at how it had all the correct pieces of the story and yet wasn't at all like the story.
Very strange.
The typical criticism is that the speed of the movie was such that instead of 6 years in training, Ender spent about 6 weeks. I have to agree completely. The movie wasn't overly long so an extra 5-6 minute montage to indicate that time is passing would have made me less angry. 
I can say that the battle room - where they fight the zero gravity battles - was excellently done. FAR better than my imagination could do. Truly exceptional and I wish more time had been spent there. All the space graphics and effects were brilliant. Battle School, Command School, all superbly done.
Harrison Ford as Graff was decent, and the writers made Anderson less than I expected/wanted, but Asa Butterfield was a really good Ender. Equal parts emotive and independent, though - because of the time issue noted above - I never got the impression that Ender was exhausted, frustrated or lonely; three things stressed in the book.
The parts of the story that had been edited out were smart and didn't detract from the main thread and I know why they toned down the violence and I guess it's a good call but I think it made the story less forceful.
Overall, it was good...but not quite enough for someone who had just finished reading the book (for at least the 15th time in her life) on Friday.

This is me and who knew I would ever ask for more montages?

Costume Applicability

I do not have the talents that some have to designing a new costume every single year for Halloween - much as I might have the ideas; the time, the skillz, the whatever isn't all there.
So when I find something that works, I stick with it as long as it will go. Hence the hippie outfits that Tarzan and I use for EVERYthing.
It's true. We had to perform a dance for the International Festival; pull out the bell bottoms and do a hustle.
Halloween; don a paisley shirt, grab a peace sign and voila:

We've used these outfits since we were in college - seriously - and the only thing I would say is the shoes could use some more thought...I need platforms!!! 

We're retro, comfortable, and cool all the time.
Because she's so professional and all ATL's contribution to the Halloween mayhem this year was a little more suited to the office environment:

This is me just fine with it.

Rock Of Ages

Yes. Yes, it was released last year (2012) and this year - 2013 - is almost over and I only just saw Rock of Ages.
But it did not disappoint.
Now, lest you think otherwise, there is no deep plot line - no plot at all actually; chick falls off the bus into the arms of the guy who will solve all her problems - but who went to this film for the plot?
Exactly.
*I* went for the fabulous soundtrack - and it really was fantastic. Songs from Journey, Def Leppard, Foreigner, Bon Jovi, Poison...it was an 80's dream. And the stars sang their own songs and did a decent job. I was pleasantly surprised with Tom Cruise and Alec Baldwin. (Some of the others, Catherine, had proven themselves before and others were there just because they could sing.)
I thought the stars who had lived through the 80's were more personable in the film than those who weren't born for the decade the first time through. The younger ones played it straight and didn't let any of the humor and fun seep in. I got the distinct impression Russell Brand lives like his character ALL the time; he was so comfortable and easy in the role.
So no deep meaning, but a lot of really great songs and some really cool people rocking out.

This is me and now I want to rock!

Freeway Fun

This amused me greatly:

Because he's all proud of his RAM truck but it's a Ford...

This is me and it's the Jungle.

A Life Beyond #15

I suppose it's only fair that there be some bad with the ridiculous good that some places have.
For example, when one's back yard looks like this:

It's only fair that the entire house be carpeted in leopard:

And there be this guy in the bathroom:

This is me and it's a weird world I visit every day.

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.

That's What It Is

I finally figured out what it is about the Barefoot Contessa that bugs me so much.
The Food Network is one of my favorite channels and I have watched Ina Garten for years. Her food looks fancy but good and I have learned some very helpful things from her show, but watching her has always made me angry as well.
Today I figured out why that is.
The woman NEVER cleans up after herself. She mixes, spills a little, but never wipes the counter down, she never cleans the blade of her knife, never puts the food scraps in the compost bowl/basket/bucket/pile, never scrapes out a bowl, never puts a bowl in the sink when she's done with it, and puts the goopy spatula back down on the counter and does not give it another thought.
I know I am not a spectacular housekeeper but I can manage to empty the food processor and get it in the general vicinity of the dishwasher before moving on to the next step.

This is me and I feel better now that I know what it is.

Brave

Much as I wanted to, I can't say that I was impressed with the storyline of the Disney movie Brave. (Yes, I only just now saw it.)
Having it be a Scottish heroine was a cute idea and the three little boys were adorable.
The animation was typical. The closing credit sequence was beautiful.
The plot. My goodness. So. Many. Holes.
Why was the father an idiot? I hate it when the man is made out to be a doofus.
How was this the first the daughter was hearing about a marriage being necessary?
Considering the control the mother has over the room, no one could think her weak and downtrodden.
Considering Merida's opinion of the boys that were competing for her, why did she want to shun all vestiges of civility and become just like them?
Plain and simple, Merida was a moron. Every time we turned around she was doing something stupid and running from responsibility. And in the end she didn't really learn anything. Oh sure, she missed her mother but she didn't choose to accept the responsibilities of her station. Gah!
Also, what about all the nudity? So completely inappropriate.
Not a movie I will be recommending to anyone.

This is me and can someone please get that girl a brush?!!

I Didn't Miss Them

This is not my first comment on the federal government.
I doubt it will be my last.
I am so irritated by this government shut-down / resurrection nonsense.
First, why did we elect such stupid, immature representatives?
Next, why do they think blaming the people / claiming that "the people have spoken" in any way makes sense?
Next, WHY do we allow these schmucks to continue to get paid - at all, let alone during the shut-down - when all the federal employees - who had nothing to say about the shut-down - did not?
Lastly, does anyone else think we should consider a third party? If enough of us vote for Floyd next time we might make a difference.
Frankly, I was very intrigued when the some of the states decided to take matters into their own hands and reopen the national parks with state money because the federal guys couldn't get it together. If that had gone on long enough I could see the states becoming independent countries and we could have forgotten all about the losers in D.C.

This is me and it always comes back to "the people get the government they deserve."

Ode To A-Mazing

It's Rocketgirl's birthday...and despite my not being skilled with the rhyming odes like she is; a tradition is a tradition dangit.
Rocketgirl is an amazing person.
She has three fantastic children and that's not by accident. She is an amazing mother.
She has played with two renowned bands - still plays in fact - and rocks it every time! She is an amazing musician.
She grew up with three brothers - amazing accomplishment right there - and welcomed all the girls they married with open arms and big smiles. (Even though we're all a little nuts.) She is an amazing sister.
(I can't swear by this 100% but there are those who say she is an amazing daughter.)
Don't be taken in by her 'I'm-not-talented' and 'I'm-not-pretty' lines.
She lies.
She is both talented and gorgeous:

She is an amazing woman.

This is me wishing a very, very Happy Birthday to Rocketgirl!!!

Plus Seven

It would seem that my parents were correct. The older one gets, the faster time goes. I'm not sure if it's because there is more to do or that there's less of my life left and my mortality is sneaking up on me, or what it is but if you can believe it, it's been a whole year and it's my birthday again.
On the one hand it's been a heck of a year, with a lot of things coming and going. And on the other hand, it has passed so quick I can't believe it.
Some of the major events, in no particular order:

• Tarzan accepted the assignment to be bishop(!) of our ward (local congregation) and has been alternately flustered, frustrated, absent and elated at the events and responsibilities of the calling.
• Because of Tarzan's reassignment, I was released from being Relief Society President and was placed back in Primary - NOT the President - so I am happy.
• Another faction was added to the odd list of things I do in the day; in the form of drafting for an architect. Both better and worse than before.
• My hands are refusing to cooperate and I have perpetual trigger fingers it seems.
• Celebrated six years of this blog.
• Based on the title of a post, Tarzan bought me an iPad Mini for Christmas. I find it really fun - books and games and things - but I still wonder at the necessity of it. I feel spoiled.
• Celebrated 12 years married to Tarzan. TWELVE years. That's a long time people.
• Tarzan and I took a road trip in a really fancy RV with Stingy, her daughter and a hired guide through the southwestern states.
• Got to go to the theater to see Jekyll & Hyde.
• We pulled out the apricot tree in the front yard and the weird, termite infested tree in the back yard and replaced them with an avocado and lime tree respectively.
• Watched Les Miserables in the theater with mixed feelings. Our only trip to the movie theater this year.
• Caught some possums in the back yard.
• Welcomed a new nephew and two new nieces. (Not all from the same parents.)
• Visited Rocketgirl for 10 days! Met the Condor and partied hard even though it was freezing rain outside in APRIL!!

It has been a very busy year and this blogging in feasts and famines is kind of challenging. I think I need to work out a schedule.

This is me and I hope I'm getting wiser.

A Life Beyond #14

This is one of the weirdest houses I have ever been in. In the back yard, they have a fenced off tennis court, another fenced off area for the pool, an outdoor bar and a koi pond with a bridge and turtles:

The powder room did not disappoint:

Mirrors EVERY-where. Even the ceiling.


This is me and I think I would be afraid to pee in there.

Reemergence

I would like to say that I took a blogging hiatus in protest to the government being stupid and shutting down because the entitled, spoiled brats in Washington can't get along.
But we all know it's been way longer than that since I posted anything. (Has anyone seen September?)

This is me and I'll try to be back.

I'm Wearing What?!?

This is me just realizing I wore my Sunday shoes to work today. Oops.

In Case You Ever Need To Know

Just in case at some future point, for your information, and reference, you should ever need to know...
Bishops?
Bishops need more socks than regular people.

This is me with a tidbit of knowledge, gained on the job.

Weird Dream #44

It is so irritating when, rather than waking me up, my alarm gets into my dream.
Last night - or rather, early this morning - I dreamed that my alarm went off.
AND I COULDN'T MAKE IT STOP.
Tarzan and I were living in the "woods" somewhere and during the course of the dream, I ripped my teddy bear to shreds, took off all my clothes, pressed buttons and turned knobs and levers everywhere, all to make the alarm stop ringing and at the end I was in the water, naked, alone and it was still going off and I couldn't find anything else to try.
That, of course, is when I woke up.

This is me, irritated that I woke up irritated.

So True

This is so my cat:

He sits there with such a frustrated look on his face. Like he could totally do a better job running this planet than these foolish humans...
Except for that one thing.

This is me and I could be a minion!

Quandry

What do you do when it's the High Council speaker's cell phone that goes off in sacrament meeting?
(This high councilman also used to be in the stake presidency.)
During the actual sacrament so it's as quiet as it's going to get in there.

This is me and it's never dull in our ward.

A Life Beyond #13

So, the neighborhood I go TO in the mornings is a world away from the one I leave FROM.
Which is both good and bad.
And weird.
Take, for example this scene as I was driving up a well known street the other day:

What is that, you ask.
It is a crane. And not a heavy object lifting/construction based kind of crane. No, the flying gracefully through the air to alight softly in a pond kind of crane.
It had been on the sidewalk in front of this house as I came upon it and in the few seconds it took to pull over and whip out my phone it moved to the peak of the roof. It didn't seem nervous. It didn't squawk or caw or screech.
In fact, it seemed quite at home and familiar with the environment. Like it belongs in the yard.
How idyllic.
I wonder what it would be like to live in a place where gentle birds come to visit?
There was a crack pipe in our front yard yesterday. Thanks for asking.

This is me and this one's for you Rocketgirl!

You Know...Prison

Apparently there is a hunger strike going on in one of the state maximum security prisons. It's been All. Over. The. News. lately and my question is: why should I get worked up over a hunger strike in a prison?
If the prison guards and/or administrators were starving the inmates as a form of torture, sure, then I could find some compassion.
But when guys who care so little about society's rules that they end up in Pelican Bay decide to exercise the only choice they should have left to make - to eat or not eat - why does it become national news and why does it divide the nation?
These individuals all CHOSE to flout the law, CHOSE to commit a crime - and a really serious one to end up in Pelican Bay - CHOSE to do it multiple times in some cases, and then CHOSE to stop eating.
I say, have at it.
Why does this guy:

"Beasley is serving a life sentence for murder. Once behind bars, he joined a violent white power prison gang. And that's when officials sent him to Pelican Bay"

Deserve my sympathy and support?
Sure, solitary confinement is not pleasant and I'm sure there are things the guy could be doing that would make him feel better. Next time, DON'T KILL SOMEONE! and then when you get to prison, DON'T JOIN A GANG! Especially a VIOLENT WHITE POWER PRISON GANG!
It's not rocket science people.
Not an easy call for the prison authorities to make. Lock the guy up; be called cruel and inhumane. Protesters, media coverage, extra audits and inspections.
Let him out with others; guards, inmates and innocents on the street die.
Nice options.
My two cents are these. We have some of the nicest prisons in the world. Offer these complainers a choice; same sentence in either place.
Stay here in America's maximum security facility or prison in North Korea.

This is me and they're not doing well with captivity.

Christmas In July!

Almost literally:

Perhaps more accurately, auditioning for Christmas.
In July.

This is me and the weird stuff I see around town.

Summer Observations

I am just going to stop with the back dating of posts, start afresh and use this post to cover all the ground I lost. It's harder to try and write something as if it just happened and none of the intervening events did, than to look at a six week gap in my posting history. 
Just some random things I have noticed this summer.

1. Despite June 21st being the longest day of the year - and therefore the days are getting shorter now - July seems to have really bright evenings. As in it's 7pm before I start to think about cooking dinner.
2. As a child, I did not appreciate the beauty of summer vacation as much as I should have. Think of it; two+ months off to just bum around, go swimming, read, lay in the sun, visit the beach/park/museum/library/zoo/botanical gardens, sleep late and play with explosives. I totally understand the phrase "youth is wasted on the young."
3. This is not so much a summer observation but a note, now that I'm drafting again, WHAT did we do in the days before email and Google maps? Roof plans are so easy now that I can get a satellite image and just copy it!
4. Took a trip over to my "local" Asian market and found exactly what I have been searching for:
   
5. Ran down one of the local streets and discovered the OTHER thing I have been searching for. You might have to zoom in a lot little to see the sign. (P.S. It says Virgin Malaysian Hair):

This is me and my summer so far.

How Does This Happen?

I wouldn't believe it if I wasn't living it.
Someone, and I am not in any way joking when I say it was NOT me, decided I wasn't happy in my current employment status and needed to start drafting again.
(Not instead of my current employment but in addition to. Naturally.)
My newest employer is none other than Stingy's husband, Buster, who is an architect.
I attended an event for Stingy's daughter earlier this month and during the chatting session, Buster said he would like to hire me. I said I was pretty busy with Aunt Richie and Stingy - as he very well knew since he'd come home from work and I was still in the house entering donations or whatever - and I'd have to see. I also talked down my skills with the 3D modeling and it's been 5 years since I was in the profession.
Still, by the end of the week I was out in the field measuring for as-built drawings. I really don't know how these things happen to me. I really don't.
So for the last few weeks I have been crazy out of my mind working for EVERYONE in that family and Tarzan's parents are here this weekend - just back from a year in the Orient - and I'm so exhausted it doesn't even bother me that I didn't clean the house before they arrived.
The insanity is out of control.

This is me; I can't believe I thought I was busy last month.

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.

Post Script

I knew there was one more thing!
I forgot to mention that last Sunday, after all the auto insanity, and the weekend with the missionaries and dinner and work and all of that, I was getting in my car after church, to take a friend home...
And the passenger side mirror was gone from the door. Not the whole thing, wires weren't hanging out or anything. In fact, the mechanism that turns the mirror were quite visible, and when I used the knob inside, I could see it turning the nonexistent reflective surface. No, just the mirror surface had been popped off.
And again - because Chrysler makes such fancy cars - they couldn't just replace the individual piece, they had to order and replace the entire apparatus. So that was two more days in the shop.

This is me with really low mileage this month.

Mother Of The Ward

Speaking of missionaries as we were, I remembered that I had neglected to tell you about my first week as The Bishop's Wife when one of the newest dudes came to ask me if I knew anyone who could hem pants. Being the control freak and know-it-all that I am, I started talking about inseams and shoes and cuffs and everything when all the poor kid wanted was someone to tack up the hem he ripped out when biking.
Much simpler.
I took them, and I did my best. I'm not a professional like my mother but I think I managed to secure the edge AND I did it so the stitches aren't seen on the outside of the pant leg. I hope Mother would be proud.

This is me hoping it holds for 22 more months.

Feeding The Horde

Another 'blessing' of being the bishop's wife is the opportunity to meet and feed the missionaries of the ward. Since I love to cook and they are very enthusiastic, I don't mind, really.
Most of the time.
But there are times when I wonder at the wisdom of letting the little punks out of their cages so early in life.
Our ward boundaries are very large and we have four pairs of missionaries to manage it all. If we feed each companionship once a week, that's the whole month and then we start over.
This last weekend, events conspired against us - well, me - and I wasn't going to be home in time for dinner. So Tarzan ordered in, met the missionaries (plus some random stranger off the street they invited without telling us!! Whole other post right there) fed them, excused them and dashed off to a meeting.
When I finally got home, this is the scene that met me in the dining room:

The microwave had seem better days and there were other surprises left in the restroom too, but this is a family blog.

This is me and that's why men are supposed to get married.

Bishop-ing - Part 1

There are many blessings that come from being married to a Bishop.
One, people give you A LOT of food. I don't know if it's a bribe, a representation of their sustaining him, a desire for recognition, or they're just nice and have a direct focus for their service. In any case, I might not have to cook as much over the next seven years if this keeps up.
Two, any setting apart of myself can be done at home and with little fanfare, not taking up valuable time at church. As was the case when I was released from being Relief Society President and - same day - called to be in the Primary. 1st counselor as opposed to President and let me tell you, it is a marvelous thing. I LOVE being the support staff, the help meet, the back up singer, the nurse. I've never liked being in charge and so this is great. (First time in eight years I haven't had to be at all the early morning meetings.) It's amazing. But on the day I was released another sister was called to be Relief Society President and I walked her through the basics, handed over all the books (Also the first time in eight years my church bag held only my scriptures.) and explained the lessons, activities already lined up, and the procedures  for food orders and stuff.
In the kerfluffle, I was not set apart for my calling.
Tarzan and I remembered it later that night and so we hopped back in our Sunday clothes so he could do it in the living room:

Twice we've done it this way. Once for Primary counselor, once for music chairperson (I was doing that already, just not officially I guess.)
Both times, full suit and tie. No socks.
As far as the work itself, Tarzan is a different sort of Bishop. Maybe it's because I see him all the time and not just when he's "bishop-ing," maybe because he's not concerned with the politics, the PC way of speaking, just about getting the job done, and when done correctly, there is a lot of work to do, maybe because he persists in doing it without socks:

He is doing well, people like him and the ward is growing, so we can't complain.

This is me living with the Bishop.

Factoid Part II

This is in answer to a question from a post back in March.
To refresh your memories - and mine - I mentioned that roasting avocado pits smell EXACTLY like moth balls.
The way in which I know that is a funny story. (Aren't they always?)
My baby brother LBO was in town - for spring break - and he, ATL and I were making dinner.
Whatever we were eating required avocados and we were pitting them. One was a little harder to get out than the others and when it finally let go, it flew across the room and disappeared. We looked everywhere, under the counters, the fridge, the stove, behind appliances on the counter, in the dining room in case it rolled.
It was gone.
When I opened the oven to retrieve dinner the pit fell into the oven - it had been in the tiny gap between the door and the cooktop on our stove - and rolled all the way to the back. It was very hot in the oven so I left it for later.
That was my mistake.
I completely forgot about the pit until a few days later when I turned the oven on again and the unmistakable odor of mothballs pervaded the kitchen. We couldn't figure out where it was coming from. We took out the trash, washed the can, mopped the floor, threw out some potatoes. Anything that was in the vicinity of the smell.
Again, when retrieving dinner, I rediscovered the pit in the back of the oven and it all came together.
I did not wait so long to get it out this time and we have been mothball smell free ever since.

This is me and that's how I know.

Three-peat!

And it's Jane with another epic car story. FTW!
Seriously, this has not been a good month for my car.
Not long after the key experience at the beach I was driving my car as usual and the electrical light came on the dashboard. I have been having some trouble with the sensors in my car recently; had to get one cleaned and another one replaced, so I called the auto shop - we are on REALLY good terms with them - to see how serious they thought it was.
Verdict was, it shouldn't damage the car provided I drive it to them right away and not take the freeway.
Fair enough.
I was on my way to work when it happened, so I finished what I had scheduled for the day - no driving of the car involved - and headed over to the mechanic. Now I do work on the other side of town from the mechanic. 15 +/- miles. I drove carefully but as I kept going I noticed that electrical components of the car were shutting down. First the radio turned itself off, then the lights on the dash got dimmer.
At this point I know, I KNOW! I should have pulled the car over to the side of the road. I really should have.
But I was so close to the last turn before the long, straight piece of road that runs by the car shop.
It was a left hand turn.
If you haven't guessed by now how it goes down, we are way too similar. (See above about pulling the car over)
I was in the left hand turn-only lane and the car shut itself off. No noises, no pops or explosions, just, 'I'm done. kthxbye'
I immediately put my hazard lights on and called AAA - yet again. It's such a nice service to have when you need it - but because it was an electrical problem with the car, the hazard lights DIDN'T WORK.
When the light turned green I looked like some moron on her phone who didn't notice. Oh the honking and the middle fingers I got from people going around me! Going around me on both sides - as in; into oncoming traffic to go around me - and honking and cursing. Did I mention the honking?
To be fair, AAA arrived in 12 minutes. It was not a long time I was stranded in the left, left hand turn-only lane, but in that amount of time, probably 4-5 cycles of the lights, only one person asked me if I was okay. One delivery truck driver yelled at me to turn my hazard lights on. Genius suggestion man! Wish I'd thought of it...
It didn't help that the ticking of the hazard lights in the car - which most certainly were on - were like some kind of a bomb waiting to go off.
In those 12 minutes, one car pulled up and asked if I needed help. I thought it was sweet of him because he got honked at for pausing. I flashed him my AAA card and my phone and mimed a thumbs up. He waved and carried on. I hope something special happens for him because of that small act of service.
Shortly thereafter the tow truck arrived and took me to my mechanic's place. Turned out the alternator was broken. (I know!) They replaced it fairly quickly and we are good.
For now.

This is me hoping there are no more chapters to this tale.

Wait, Wait, It Gets Better

You thought THAT was crazy?
It gets better.
Yesterday was Stingy's daughter's birthday party - a private beach party with rented cabanas, 'help' and we should all be so lucky - and it was my 'privilege' to assist in the event.
I got up early, donned my beach attire and trundled off to walk the dog, check on the work stuff, pick up the balloons and the Chinese Chicken Salads and head out to the beach. It was a nice drive up the coast, a good 15 plus miles, tiny secluded turn off to the long winding drive. In a horror movie this is where you'd be yelling at me to turn around and go home.
I pulled into the parking lot - there is a restaurant there - and knowing that I would have my hands full of teenagers and presents and balloons and food and relatives all day, I did the smart thing, put my phone in my pocket, unclipped my car key from my key ring and locked my purse and remaining keys in the trunk.
I took the balloons over to the cabanas, tied them in appropriate places and went back to get the salads, which were also in the trunk of my car.
I pulled out the key with the fob for the trunk and realized something horrible.
It was not my car key.
I had saved Tarzan's car key and locked mine in the trunk.
Oh yes. Go Jane.
Having read something vague on the Internet - it doesn't lie right? - I called Tarzan - reception was - naturally - almost non-existent up there in paradise - and asked him to use his key fob to try and unlock my door.
Not even.
I'm not sure if the wind was too high, the reception too poor or the Internet was pulling my leg but it would seem it is not possible to unlock a car over the phone. FYI.
The battery on my phone was draining rapidly - poor reception symptom - so Tarzan called AAA - lovely people - and asked how long it would take to unlock my car seeing as I was way up the coast and though I was early to set up the others would be along shortly and I had two gigantic Chinese Chicken Salads in the trunk.
Turns out, with my fancy car, they can't just pop the trunk open and if they unlocked the door there's no way to get to the trunk - cursed convertible - and the trunk release does not work if the car is off. So they had to call a locksmith to MAKE A NEW KEY which - of course - costs over and above the membership fee to AAA. About as much as I made working at the party that day.
Fortunately for me, the guy was not too far away and arrived in 30 minutes. Of course his call saying he was there did not connect because the isolation of the area. But the staff helped a little and we got my trunk open.
With Stingy and the rest of the help standing by and watching my epic adventure.
If Facebook is to be believed it was a smashing good party, no one died from food poisoning and I now have an extra key to my trunk to stash someplace special in case I need it.

This is me and I am skilled.

The Story Of My Keys

In the midst of all this bishop become-ing we were doing, was one of the craziest days I have ever lived. And there have been a few.
Let me tell you about it.
Last week, the office manager from the last place I worked for real, called to let me know that the architect in the office had passed away. (I had an inkling something was up because the only other time in five years she had called was when he had the heart attack before this one.) She told me they were having a memorial on Tuesday (last Tuesday) and would I like to come. I thought, sure. Time had dulled the wounds and it seemed like a nice thing to do.
So. Tuesday morning I got up, dressed in my funeral attire and headed west to the church. I saw all the guys from the office, got caught up with things, heard the service, which was lovely, and we all headed over to the hotel for a lunch. The hotel was near the beach and had valet - which was paid for - and did I mention that my car was sick and in the shop so I was driving Tarzan's car. (Had had to drop Tarzan off at work early in the morning, do my stuff and at the end of the day pick him up again.)
I left Tarzan's car with the valet and went to lunch, which was lovely, ate with the guys, MC was nice to me and we carried on a conversation of pleasantries - unusual - and went back up to the valet to get my car. Turns out the valet was NOT prepaid and so everyone in front of me was really angry about having to pay $14 for their cars. It irritated me too but what were we to do? The woman's father had just died, who was going to whine about having to pay for their car?
I got in my car, drove almost home, stopping at the store for some refreshments and supplies for the Spa Night we were having that evening.
Did I mention I had a huge combined Relief Society activity that evening? (Relief Society and Young Women for both our ward and the Spanish speaking ward we share our building with.)
I got home close to 4:00 and only when I got to the door of the house did I realize that I did not have my house keys on my key ring. Weird. I called the hotel - the only place I had not had my keys - and sure enough I had "dropped them." (Total lie.) However, there was not enough time to turn around and go all the way across town to the hotel, come all the way back and make it in time to get Tarzan and still get to the activity.
So we left my keys, I went to the school and borrowed Tarzan's keys in order to change and fetch other things for the activity, fetched him and we ate dinner in the car on the way to the church. The activity was a grand success:

 

(In my humble opinion) and Tarzan was very productive in his meetings.
But my keys were still on the other side of town.
I was able to get them the next day, after all the work stuff and the car nonsense - that's another story to tell, my poor car - but the dude at the desk made me wait forever for help and forever to fetch my keys from security and then insisted that I had dropped my house keys - off my key ring - and I was very fortunate that they had found them. I sort of think they wanted a tip at the valet desk but I was not in the mood.

This is me and this sort of stuff happens only to me.

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...

Inauguration

Guess what went down yesterday?

This is me. It's going to get crazy over here!

A Life Beyond #12

There have not been a large number of houses to show/sit for Stingy of late and subsequently there aren't many pictures to show you. I did find this though.
It comes from a house of an elderly vocal performer who is also a pack rat:

Stuff EV*ERY*WHERE. (It's not hoarding if you have money.)
Including this interesting tidbit on the mantle in the living room:

She has those signs all over. Maybe back in the day smoke at parties was a problem for her voice?

This is me and who knows?

Mother's Day 2013

Tarzan spoke in sacrament meeting yesterday - for Mother's Day.
Now, I know Tarzan is a deep guy but even I was amazed at what he produced this time.
Especially after I asked him the day before how it was coming and he said, "eh, it's done." So laid back that man.
Anyway.
It wasn't a straight up, "my mother is the best" kind of thing, which I appreciated. (Everyone's mother is the best - for them.)
It also wasn't a copy of a General Authority talk - not that those dudes aren't fabulous - they are - but I watch Conference, I read the Ensign, I don't need it read to me. I want to hear a person's own personal anecdotes, their own testimony.
Tarzan started by talking about the universe, gravitational force, solar bodies, all that and pulled it together - using scriptures - likening the family unit to the universe. Then he gave specific examples from his own life; the example set by his mother, the principles she taught him, and how they each have an effect on the world as a whole.
Totally unique.
Something I hadn't even thought about before, but rang true as he said it.
It was a lovely tribute to his mother and an amazing commentary on our place in the universe.

This is me and it was brilliant.

The Way It Used To Be

I don't remember exactly what day I heard this. (NPR has a horrible filtering/sorting function.)
But I have an opinion about the piece, which was discussing what elected officials earn. Namely Presidents, Cabinet people, Congressmen and Senators.
And I think they are definitely paid too much.
It is my humble opinion that elected officials should be doing their job out of desire to make the country a better place and not a belief in their own 'divine right' like the kings of old that the US of A was founded on leaving behind.
They sure don't pay me a sizable sum to serve on jury duty. And the video that is shown at orientation talks about the civic responsibility and how our service with only token compensation keeps the system equal and fair and *I* would like to think if Washington saw it they would feel guilt for the desire to line their own pockets and not give two snaps at how greed affects the nation as a whole and we might actually get better suited representatives if those running for office understood that it wasn't a paid position.
It wasn't always a paid position. Or not a large compensation. With a lifetime of Secret Service and a pension forever.
'Back in the day' Congressmen and all those guys had jobs outside of serving the country and when they weren't in session, they went home to their jobs. Their living. Their lives.
I think it was a better philosophy.
Your thoughts?

This is me and there would be less drama and maybe more work done.

Birthday - Part 2

Poor Tarzan. His birthday was a conglomeration of a bit here and a bit there. On the actual day we had cake.
Last Saturday we went to his favorite restaurant, Zankou Chicken. It's a Mediterranean/Organic fusion type place and everything is delicious. But the best part is this crazy good garlic paste butter thing that goes on top and it's just amazing.
Tarzan LOVES it. You will notice in this picture:

There are already two empty containers in front of him.
Both of those were full of the creamy, garlicky condiment. I like the stuff, no question but no one inhales it like Tarzan does.
Even spread out over several days, I think it was a good birthday.

This is me and yes, more is forthcoming. It's a lot of information to process to coherency.

Ode To My Honey

I seem to have been derelict in my duties last year and did not do an ode to Tarzan. Which puts on the pressure to make this a good one.

Dear Tarzan,
Once again - or rather, still - we are busy with full schedules and places to be after the work day is over. But you keep working, keep trying, keep growing, keep serving, keep teaching. You are smart, funny, cute, tall, charming and willing to share. Greying with style, random and adorable. I wish you all the best of everything, always!

This is me and HAPPY BIRTHDAY Tarzan!

Returned

I am back and will post something substantial soon, I promise.
There's this whole laundry thing driving me because all the clothes in my suitcase smell like bratwurst. (The fact that I brought 9 lbs. of bratwurst and cheese home does not have anything to do with that.)
It was a lovely trip but the time changes and the stupid airline schedule means I do not have any idea what day or time it is and I might have to be at work in ten minutes. Or hours...

This is me back home.

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.

Magazine Cover

If there's a cuter picture of a family watching General Conference anywhere in the world, I want to see it:

Left to right: Woody, Rocketgirl, Sunshine, Floyd and Condor

This is me and if they were any more adorable I might throw up.

Arrival

I can't say I am a fan of the early morning departure:

Though I somehow always choose that option, but it does have it's advantages. Mostly the speed with which one can get through the check-in and security lines.
It was a long trip yesterday but accomplished with little complaint:

Also the nature of airport food has improved drastically from the stereotype:

And I have arrived in the Land of Cheese to play, bond, and hopefully help out a little. The younger crowd does not seem to mind. Sunshine:

Woody:

And Condor:

Well, he's a baby, what do you expect? I was asked to repeat last night's bedtime story telling performance this evening so I take that as a good sign.
The weather is a little unsettling. Or the aftermath of last week's weather. Been a long time since I lived this:

This is me and it's a party all up in here!

In Between

Tarzan and I just got back from a road trip with Stingy and company - loooooong post or two coming on that - and now I am getting ready to fly out to see Rocketgirl for almost two weeks but my plane leaves at a ridiculous hour of the morning - why do I always DO that to myself? - and I still have to finish packing.
So.
Instead of anything substantial, I leave you with this random quote off one of the libraries I drive by on my way to work.

"People should think. Thinking is not to agree or disagree. That's voting." -Robert Frost

This is me and when next I post, it will be from The Land Of Cheese!