I Got Christmas Covered

My Christmas Tree at home may be a little on the disfigured side, but I made a tree at work the kits can't touch:

If you can't tell, it's made out of hands.  (Not literal hands, but hands cut out of paper.)

It was a good use of company time.

Let's Play a Game

A little game called "What's in the bag?".  Kea is curious to know as well.

Go ahead take a guess. . .

Scarves?

Tissues?

Gingerbread?

Elves?

Chocolate?

Foreign currency?

 A massive amount of bubble gum?

A pillow of immeasurable softness?

Santa's undergarments?

Blood diamonds?

Dragon eggs?

A lifetime supply of post-it notes?

Part of a cloud?

Well, I suppose we should just find out for ourselves:

OH!  It's Kloe!  Yeah, I guess that's no surprise.

The Things I Do To Keep Entertained

I love my job, but like most jobs there are times when I'm swamped, and other times that are really slow.  There doesn't seem to be any happy medium.  Oddly enough, I'm not much a fan of the slow times 'cause I don't like feeling like a slacker (even if it's because there's nothing for me to do) and also when I'm not busy the time goes slower and an eight hour shift feels like a 12 hour shift.

I'm able to entertain myself somewhat on the internet, but you can only check facebook so many times, and catching up on everyone's blogs doesn't take much time.  I've had to get a little creative in finding things to keep me entertained.

My latest piece of joy has suceeded in making the day go a lot faster.  A coworker of mine found a dramatic reading of Lord of the Rings.  If you're not familiar with dramatic readings, they're different from audio books because rather than having one person read the book word for word they have a whole cast who each reads a character, and they add in sound effects and the like.  Since they're older they tend to be incredibly cheesy and fantastically entertaining.

I started listening and it took my mind off the boredom, but then I began to think that there was definitely something to up the ante.

Lord of the Rings Bingo!

What a delight.

I Have Cracked the Code

I was scrolling through the Utah's Most Wanted list to see if I knew anyone,  with the dream of busting some obnoxious coworker or neighbor and receiving the key to the city.

I didn't see anyone I know, but I did take note of something else.  Most of these people had extraordinarily large foreheads.  I have come to the conclusion that crime is not the result of a massive string of bad choices, but simply by the shape of your head.

Looking closer and I began to notice a startling pattern.  Let me show you.

They each have distinct large bulging foreheads, and a point at the top of their head.  Their eyebrows all seem to be the same shape. They are also all sex offenders.



This next group of people all have small eyes, that are set really close together.

They were also all arrested for drug related crimes, so they have that in common as well.  Of course, look at them, are you really surprised they're druggies?


These next people were all arrested for various charges of theft and felony.  They all have oval shaped heads.  I'm not saying fatties are thieves, so don't mistake oval for chubby.  They also have similar lips, besides the fact they're all in frowns, of course.
 

 
 
Hey, why the long face? Oh, 'cause you were arrested for forgery or fraud? Yeah, so were these next people, and they all have a long face.

Ok, I'm not really saying you have unnaturally close eyes so you much be selling crack, or that your massive forehead suggests rapist tendencies.  Another big thing all these people have in common is that they are beyond stupid.

I'm curious, what do you think this guy did?

And last but not least, here is my personal favorite.

If you wanna see the list for yourself, click here.

Bre Thinks

There are a lot of random thoughts that pass through my head throughout the day, and I usually keep them to myself since if I share people give me the look.  You know the one, where in a single glace you've just told the person that you have evaluated their mental state and it's not looking good.

Well, screw it. Here are a couple things I've thought about, and you can give me the look all you like . . . I actually won't see it.

--How did cats evolve webbed feet when they can't stand water?  Usually an animal evolves a certain feature that will help them in their life, but if they're never in the water, how did that come about?

--Sometimes when I barely miss out on a good parking space coming back from my lunch break I blame the person at the drive through for not going a little bit faster.

--Who would win a fight between a grizzly bear and a seagull?  A seagull, hands down.  They are gutsy little critters, and great aim, they would go for the eyes and the bear would be slowly pecked to death.  Seagull have little to no mercy.

--I don't really think my car looks nice, but I take pride in the fact that other people thinks it looks nice.

--I would like to know what happened between generations to make old ladies think their perfume smells good.

--Why are fortune cookies always so flattering?  I already bought the meal, there's no need to schmooze me.

--Why does no one say "goodbye" when ending a phone conversation on TV?  They just dramatically flip the phone closed.  I think it's rude.  I keep expecting the other person to stare at the phone and say "Oh no he didn't!"

--Why is there dust on fans?  You'd think the dust would be blown off.

--Because basic sentences have been changed in this day and age to include emoticons, I would like some clear rules regarding punctuation.  If I end my sentence in a smiley face ala colon and parenthesis, do I put the period before or after the smiley face?

The Vacuum

I've been called a lot of things in my day, but obsessed with my pets has not been one of them.  Which is surprising, right?  'Cause I kinda am.  I'm almost delusional enough to think they're my children, but since they don't look like me or Jordan and for the life of me I can't recall any sort of gestation period or delivery, I must assume they are not.

That was just a long way of saying this post is about my pets.  And the vacuum, that is.  Between you and I, I have a really hard time spelling that word, it seems like it should be vacume.  Are two u's really necessary?  Why not just slap three in there, vacuuum, makes no difference to me, it's still stupid.

Moving on. . .

I think it's funny that all animals are inherently afraid of the vacuum.  Brighton, for instance, will bark up and down next Tuesday (what does that even mean, Bre?) if someone walks by the window, but bring the vacuum out and he is not playing games.

I like to bring out the vacuum to specifically remind the pets that I control the evil beast, remind them who really has the power here.  Much like in Avatar, how that guy rode The Last Shadow, or whatever it was called.  You know what I mean.

I wonder if it helps my animals' notion that the vacuum is evil that I hum the Terminator theme song when I bring it out.

Because I was bored and had the time, I evaluated the methods my animals used to deal with the vacuum.

Brighton:

Brighton chose the higher ground, which is usually a smart move strategically speaking.  From up there he could keep an eye on the enemy, while still keeping his distance and laying on the comfortable armrest.  The armrest also gives him a little more height than the actual couch cushion.  Way to take the extra step to protect yourself, Boy.  Should Brighton decide to attack, he could leap from above with efficiency and accuracy.  I think he's put a lot of thought into his position.

Bella:

Bella also went for height, but in terms of security she took it to the max.  She chose the corner, a defensive stance that ensures that the vacuum could not come at her from behind.  Her position is not only secure, but as you can see, she's got her favorite monkey as a security blanket, or perhaps protection, and chose the soft Love Sac, blanket and pillow, so that she could ride out the vacuuming in extreme comfort.  Her monkey doubles as a lover should she get a hankering. I can't tell if she's squinting out of fear, pure loathing or just mid-blink.  You decide.

Kloe:

It's become obvious from past experiences that Kloe has no love for her legs, and is willing to sacrifice them willy nilly.  This really takes it to a whole new level.  However, I have to commend her on a few things, one being sheer pluck.  The couch sits mere inches off the ground, and the gall it took for her to think she could squeeze her mass of fur and saggy skin under there and to actually pull it off, well, it's impressive to say the least.  Second, I do have to give it to her that she is well protected from attacks coming from above.  But, I don't know if you know anything about vacuums, but they don't really come from above, and Kloe is now at eye level with the beast, and could potentially be blinded from it's one, albeit long, eye.  But again, pluck.  She chooses to ride out the vacuuming inches out of its reach.  Very brave.

Kea:

That tricky little ninja was nowhere to be found, which I think makes her the winner of this exercise.  However, for the sake of not leaving her out, here is a picture of Kea:

She's really good at taking naps.

How Grasshoppers Ruined My Childhood

I have been reminiscing lately.

When I was in fourth grade me and my friend loved catching grasshoppers.  We fancied ourselves highly efficient grasshopper hunters, and decided there was no grasshopper that we couldn't catch.  There was a big field near my home, and we would spend hours in the field catching grasshoppers, their speed no match for our catlike albeit childlike reflexes.  We had stealth, we had skill, we the patience of a predator only the T-Rex hunter from The Lost World could rival.

My friend and I worked as a single unit.  Armed with two mason jars pilfered from my mom's food storage we would catch a grasshopper between two cupped hands and the other would deftly open the jar without letting the currently captive grasshoppers out and the new prisoner would be introduced into the jar.  We would retire to the front yard where we would examine our catch, pride ourselves on our skill and consider offering our services to grasshopper-hating neighbors for a nominal fee.

The next day we saw him.  Instantly he was dubbed King Grasshopper.  He no doubt consumed the same green ooze that made Teenage Turtles of the Mutant variety.  He was easily 4-5 inches long, and his eyes were so big I could stare straight into his soul as he psychically posed the question as to why we were imprisoning his subjects.  He just sat there and stared at us unafraid.  He knew he was in no danger of us, and I felt like he could see our souls as well.  King Grasshopper was not happy with what he saw. 

We were terrified.

We ran back to the safety of the front yard and returned our attention to the mason jars with new insight.  The jars were three quarters full of pure grasshopper, all crammed in there in one unforgiving mess.  We could see stray severed legs here and there and a significant amount of grasshopper poo.  The living conditions were horrific, at best.  We knew what we had to do.  We unscrewed the lids and released a tidal wave of grasshoppers, intent on revenge.  An army of poo covered grasshoppers came after us, and ever since then I've had a higher respect for all of God's creatures.  Not to mention a healthy fear of King Grasshopper, and now the sight of grasshoppers gives me the willies.

Picking the Pizza Slice

Have you ever seen someone walk up to a pizza and grab a slice at random?  I haven't.  No, I take that back, I have.  When there was one slice left.

Not every pizza slice is created equal.  Everyone has a method for choosing their slice of pizza, and it all depends on multiple variables.

Size: The slice should be larger than most slices, but not the largest.  When choosing the largest people tend to look at you like maybe you're the piggy of the group.  There's always a girl that says "I want the smallest slice!"  This girl is lying.  She is hungry, but she wants to act demure and is anorexic watching her weight.  This girl is guaranteed to get a very well hidden eye roll from every other girl in the room.

Toppings: Depending on your preferences a slice is chosen based on the number of toppings.  You hunt for a slice with the smallest amount of your least favorite toppings, while at the same time has an agreeable amount of your favorite toppings. 

Crust:  The crust on a pizza could be a deal breaker.  Some pizza places make great crust, while others leave a lot to be desired.  So pizza brand is definitely included in your consideration.  Depending on whether or not you're a crust eater, a small-crusted slice or one heavy on the crust is another variable.

Air Bubbles: Admit it- no matter how old you get you still see a huge air bubble on your pizza as a phenomenon.  A big ol' air bubble on the center on your pizza slice is no good; that can effectively eliminate a good 18% of your pizza in a puff of air.  An air bubble on the crust however, can still be viewed as wondrous and is more acceptable.

I love watching people choose their pizza, I can see their brain working as they scan over the pizza to weigh their options and select the slice that meets their needs.  Personally, I select a slice that is medium sized, has the crispiest pepperoni, and heavy on the crust (for Papa Johns, that is).  What do you look for in a pizza slice?

Weird

I've been thinking a lot about the word weird.  Who came up with that word, and who decided what it means?  I came up with an answer, and I wouldn't dream of leaving you in the dark.  No, that would just be cruel.

We all do.

"What the heck do you mean, Bre?"  You may be thinking, "That word has been around for a long time, it's in the dictionary and I sure didn't petition Webster to put it there." 

Granted you're right, you didn't literally create the word.  However, the word means something different to us all.  Each one of us has decided what normal means and if someone else doesn't fit neatly into our own personal definition of normal, then we automatically label them as weird.

That kind of makes me sad, although I fully admit I do it too.  I'm weird, I've been called so many times, but to a different person I'm considered normal and others might think that I'm awesome. 

I used to live in Washington, and I felt completely set into a category.  The weird thing was I was given two labels, and they were the complete opposite of each other.  All the people at work thought I was goody two shoes 'cause I didn't go out and get drunk with them after work, I didn't swear and I didn't sleep around so they assumed I was completely "holier than thou".  However people at church thought I was a bad person 'cause I didn't regularly go to church.  It was all about perspective, and I didn't feel like I fit the bill for either of those labels.  I realized that nobody there really knew me and the labels they put me prevented them from wanting to get to know the real me.

I wonder how many amazing people I'm missing out on because the labels I put on them keep me from getting to know them. . .

Published, No Biggie

Ok, ok, I'm a little more excited about it than that.  There is an online magazine called Voices from the Garage that features writers. They published one of my blog posts, and featured it on their homepage. 

I don't even know what to say other than klicken sie hier to see it featured on the homepage, or here to see the whole shabang.

Step 1 to beating out J.K. Rowling:  Complete.

Reading Review: Green Rider

Sometimes I read a book and I just want to tell everyone about it, but I don't really know if people actually care about what I read.

Well, I thought it would be fun to share on my blog anyway.  Sometimes I'm looking for a good book to read, and maybe you are too, so I'll share what I've been reading lately and maybe I'll make it a weekly thing.

Lately I've been sucked into trilogies that haven't been complete yet.  I read a book, then find out that it's part of a trilogy and the 2nd and 3rd books aren't out yet, and have to wait for the next book to come out.  Which is excruciating, to say the least. 

When my friend suggested Green Rider I thought sure for several reasons:

1. She wouldn't recommend it if it wasn't good.

2. She doesn't read, so if she read this and thought it was good then it had to be captivating.

3. She said she read it as a kid so I was guaranteed not to get stuck in an unfinished trilogy.

I read the book and loved it.  It's set in a different world, in medieval times, and I haven't read one like that in a long time, so it definitely brought me back to my childhood.  It's about a girl named Karigan that runs away from school, and while out on the road she crosses paths with a Green Rider, who are messengers for the King.  He had been shot in the back with two black arrows, and was dying.  He passes on his message to Karigan and says that she must get the message to the King at all costs, and fast.  Thus begins her adventures of getting the message to the king while being chased by the same people that had shot the arrows in the Green Rider's back.

It brought out the "Peter Pan Syndrome" in me, which is what I call this sense of adventure that makes me want to run away and never grow up.

The book ended and though it didn't have a cliffhanger I thought some things might have been left unfinished.  Following a hunch I looked it up, and sure enough it was a trilogy!  I was excited 'cause I wasn't ready for the story to be over, but I finished book three and that ended with unfinished business as well.  I did a little more research and found out there was a fourth book that hasn't come out yet!  What the crap- the first book came out over 10 years ago!  I thought I was safe, but I suppose it's to be the curse of my book selections.

So help me if there's a 5th book . . .

Speaking of waiting a long time for sequels, I preordered my copy of Mockingjay!

Can you hear the angels singing?

This is the 3rd book in the Hunger Games, and I had to wait for the 2nd and now 3rd book!  Very excited to finally get the conclusion.

Anyway, that's what has been keeping me occupied, what has been keeping you occupied?

Love you.

Taco Night

Admittedly I'm not much of a cook.  But tacos are magnificently easy.  One pound of hamburger, one packet of taco seasoning and my significant other thinks I'm the greatest cook in the world.

Little does he know it's simple.  I'll just let him continue to think it's complicated.

I made tacos a couple of nights ago and we were enjoying these fabled tacos when from underneath the table I heard a frantic struggle to breathe coming from one of my pets.  I popped my head down below and confirmed it was Brighton.  His momentary struggle for air passed quickly enough, but I knew exactly what happened.

Bre:  "What did you feed him?  Please tell me it was lettuce, I beg for you to tell me it was cheese."

Jordan:  *Nothing*

Bre:  "Jordan, you can't feed the dogs the hamburger, who knows what kind of spices are in those packets." 

Jordan:  "He likes it."

Bre:  "He also likes his own poo."

Jordan:  *Shrugs as if to say 'Ya got me there.'

Bee tee dubs, onions are really bad for dogs (at least that is the word on the street) and I would be surprised if onion powder wasn't in taco seasoning.

There is a silver lining:

1. Jordan has probably built up the dogs' immunity to harmful food items by giving them little bits of whatever they ask for since they were pups.

2. Because they know Jordan is the weaker one, they only beg from him, and I can eat in peace.

3. If the pups ever get diarrhea , Jordan has to clean it up 'cause it's pretty much a guarantee that it was caused by something he fed them.

I think I'm smarter in my sleep

I'm not generally good at problem solving, and particularly not in a traumatic situation.  In my dreams, though I'm calm, cool and collected and could get us out of any jam.

A couple nights ago I had a dream that the world was ending.  The Sun had exploded creating a black hole, (I'm not sure on the accuracy of said statements) and this happened during my family reunion, so we were all camping and sitting under a big wooden pavilion .  After it rained fire, the pavilion caught on fire, but we didn't have any water, or any way to get the fabled water onto the roof of the pavilion to douse the flames should we have any.  So I stuck my niece on my brothers shoulders, grabbed a 2 liter of root beer and gave it a big ol' shake-shake-shake and told her to open it up pointing towards the flames.  She opened it and the root beer shooting out reached the higher flames while I grabbed a second bottle and worked on the lower flames.

If that had been real, and our only apocalypse shelter lit on fire I would say Holy freak- there's a fire and we have no water!  Whatever are we to do?!  And then panic, and then probably die.  Never would I think to shoot super powered root beer into the flames.

When I was younger and having a nightmare, maybe being chased by monsters or taken hostage by mobsters, I always dropped to my knees and said a prayer and woke up.  It was the weirdest thing, but every single time I had a nightmare I would pray my way out of it, and now I don't really get nightmares.

Usually any good idea for a story I have comes from my dreams.  I will wake up and think, that it a perfect storyline for a book!  I should write it so I see what happens next.  I never would have been able to come up with a plot like that as my waking self.

So I've come to the conclusion that my subconscious is more sure-headed and clever, more faithful and creative than I could ever be.  I think my subconscious is holding out on me.

Just a Tad Sarcastic

I tend to be a very sarcastic person.  I'm not sure why, but I use it for many occasions.   I use it when I'm mad, when I'm excited, nervous, happy, overwhelmed, overjoyed, anxious, unsure, confused, furious, sleep-deprived, and elated.

So . . . .pretty much always.

I especially use it when I'm uncomfortable or feel very awkward.  For example, if I'm meeting a person for the first time there's a good change their first impression of me is that I'm sarcastic.  If I'm with people that intimidate me, they're going to think I'm sarcastic.

Sometimes I feel bad 'cause this little habit of mine could easily be misconstrued as negativity, when it's really just me trying to diffuse my insecurity.

Another trait that goes hand it hand with my overblown sarcasm is my tendency to exaggerate.  If I'm telling a story, there's an 83% chance that I'm exaggerating a smidgeon.  If I'm annoyed at someone, and perhaps I'm venting about said person's stupidity, there's a fair chance that I may be exaggerating.  Fairly small chance, 'cause there are some inept people out there, but a fair chance all the same.

I'm not a perfect person, and this is where I'm supposed to say something along the lines that I will try to do better, and express a desire to change. . .  but I'm not convinced I can.  Not quite sure I have the ability in me to be less sarcastic.

At least I recognize it though, right?

Right?

Braggy McBraggart

Yesterday was my bestie's b-day, and check out the cake I made for her!

It's not perfect, buy hey, I'm still proud of it.  Jordan made the elephant on top, I'm not that creative.  I'm already anxious to make another one.

The Whole Fam Damily

This last weekend was my family's Family Reunion.  It was so great to be able to have my whole family there in one place, 'cause we don't get that very often, usually there is at least one person missing.

We went to Rockport, which is a reservoir kind of by Park City.  We spent the weekend out on the water, boating and swimming and just having fun with the family.  I loved being able to spend some time hanging out with my neices and nephews, especially since there are a couple nieces I don't get to see that often.  I can't believe how big they're all getting. 

I didn't get any pictures since most of the time was spend on the water, that and I just haven't been much of a picture taker.  Unlike everyone else in my family. 

Overall it was a great weekend, and I loved being able to spend it with my family.  I'm so lucky to have such awesome siblings that I actually like spending time with!

Cake Slash the 4th

We had a great holiday weekend, and it was fantastic to be able to have a three day weekend.  On Friday we had Jordan's grandparent's 50th wedding anniversary party, which was a lot of fun.  Definitely the first time Jordan and I had ever worn a matching shirt.  Now I'm thinking of coordinating our entire wardrobe.

Saturday we went with our bestie Maggie to PG to watch the fireworks.  We brought the pups, and though we were nervous how they would react to the fireworks, they did really well, and ended up just laying in Jordan's lap the whole time.

Poor Bella was cold.  Then again, when is she not?

Brighton on the other hand looks like the Yeti from Monsters Inc.;

   

He's got a beard for the ages.

Sunday we were celebrating my neice's first birthday and my sis-in-law asked me and my sister to make the cake for her, which we were more than happy to do.  I like making cakes, but I don't have much of an opportunity to make them, so when I get the chance I jump at it.  Here is the beautiful cake:

The bottom tier is marble with buttercream frosting, the middle one is chocolate and vanilla in rings with buttercream, and the top (the dress) is chocolate with buttercream.  We were able to practice both fondant and piping, and the flowers on the dress are made of fondant.  We were really excited to get some practice in, and are learning some tricks here and there as we go along.  It's been a really fun hobby! 

After my neice's b-day party we ran over to Jordan's parents for a deligthful BBQ.

Happy 4th to all and Happy Birthday America!

I'm a Reader

Ever since I can remember I have been fascinated by books and the stories they tell.  Like most kids I loved good ol' Dr. Seuss, and particularly obsessed with Go Dogs Go.  I would want to have it read to me over and over, and when nobody was there to read it I would just turn the pages and look at the pictures and try to remember what the words said.  I wanted to read it myself so desperately that I memorized it.  Word for word.  I remember going to my friends house and reading it out loud to show off how I was such an awesome reader, but really I just knew the book by heart.

In third grade we had to take a reading aptitude test, to see what reading level we were on.  I had a 12th grade reading level.  I wasn't some prodigy, I just loved to read so much that I keep getting bigger and bigger books.

Growing up I would go to bed and read until my parents came and turned the light out.  But because they were in the habit of leaving the hall light on, I would lay in the doorway of my room and ready by the light of the hall.  Until I saw feet stop in front of me, and I would look up to an angry mother saying that I am going to ruin my eyes if I read by that light.  I didn't care, I wanted to read so I would go back to bed only to return after she had left.

My mom even tried to ground me from books.  She said I read too much and encouraged me to do something else, even if it meant watching TV.  Normally I don't ignore being grounded, but I decided that you can't really be grounded from reading, that was like being grounded from homework, and it wasn't in a parents jurisdiction to do that.  So I read on.

In 6th grade my teacher had a contest at the beginning of the year to see who could read the most.  We each had a name on a posterboard and for every 100 pages we read we got a sticker, and I had stickers that went all the way across the poster board and then my teacher had to start putting stickers on top of stickers until there were five stickers stacked up on top of each other.  During that school year I read Jurassic Park & The Lost World because I was determined not to read kids' books.

In 7th grade I started reading Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series, which is famous for being super thick.  Normally I would carry books in my backpack at school, but I carried these by hand not only because their thickness made it easy for the binding to fall apart, but because I thoroughly enjoyed people's eyes bugging out as they passed me in the hall.

I don't say this to brag, but now my eyes are horrible, and I find myself desperately trying to put down my book so I can do something productive around the house.  I have Kindle on my iphone, which has been the best and worst thing for me 'cause here I sit at work, with my phone between me and my keyboard and it's virtually impossible to tear my eyes away so I can work.

Thanks to insomnia I lie awake at night reading away on my Kindle and I hear my mom's voice saying "You'll ruin your eyes." And I can't help but think, she was right to try and ground me from books.

People, I Can't Stand Ya

Lately I have been losing my patience with people.  More and more I get annoyed with the stupid things that people say. 

The other day this lady was telling a "funny story" of how she hit a big ol' chicken with her car, and she wanted to get a picture of the bird to show people the bird she hit, but the bird flew off. So she giggled as she followed the blood trail which went behind a gate, where a man was standing and she asked the man if he saw a chicken come that way.  And he said yeah, that was my chicken and she's dead.  She asked if she could get a picture of it, and he said no, she asked again and he still said no.  She was annoyed that he wouldn't let her take a picture of his dead bird, and said that the guy seemed really ornery. 

You think?  You killed his bird, it probably had a name and everything.  She also bragged about how nice she was that she didn't make the guy pay for her broken mirror.  Then she complained that it was a bad day 'cause so many people teased her about hitting the bird.  I'm pretty sure the chicken had a worse day.  How the fuddilymudd was that a funny story? I wanted to cry for the poor bird.

Why do pregnant ladies feel so entitled?  Every Thursday my company provides breakfast.  One lady was spreading cream cheese on her bagel and another guy who was waiting to use it after her noticed that it was fat free, and said so.  The lady said, "Are you calling me fat?!  I'm pregnant, and you shouldn't call pregnant ladies names, 'cause then you'll get beaten up by their husbands, and my husband has a gun."

Alrighty.  Where to start?

1.  She was probably like 6 weeks preggo 'cause she wasn't showing in the slightest.
2.  She was skinny to begin with.
3.  I'm pretty sure you shouldn't call anyone names, regardless if they are expecting or not.
4.  Noticing that the cream cheese you're using doesn't constitute as calling you fat, but obviously you're quite insecure.
5.  Really, you jumped straight to your husband having a gun?  Even if he was calling you fat, really- a gun?

Moving on.. .

Have you ever heard of the backdoor compliment?  It's when a person degrades themselves, but manages to still give themselves a compliment at the same time.  Example:  "I would be terrible at a fist fight because I'm so small and petite."

These bug me so bad.  Those and the people that just put themselves down completely, like call themselves fat, just so someone will come back and say no you're not, you're gorgeous.  Every time someone does that I wanna come back with, "Hmm, you are kinda portly, aren't you?  I didn't notice until you brought it to my attention."

A couple weeks ago we Redboxed The Day the Earth Stood Still, and it's about an alien (Keanu Reeves) who comes to save Earth, and it turns out that he's actually saving Earth from people by killing all the people so the Earth can survive.  Throughout the movie the main character (nasty Jennifer Connelly) is trying to convince him to let the people live and that we can change.  I found myself rooting for the alien, 'cause really I doubt that the human race is capable of changing, and I feel that Earth would be better without us.

I know you think I'm just a mean person.  But you all have people in your life you just can't stand, and there are strangers you see where you can't help but roll your eyes and avoid eye contact hoping they don't try to strike up a conversation.  I'm just more open about it.

Twice As Nice OR Double Trouble?

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a second me.  Not a twin, but a whole other Bre.  She looks just like me, she talks like me, she is me. 

I wonder if we would live together, or if I would prefer that she live somewhere else.  What if she tried to hit on my husband?  Would he technically be her husband as well?  I think not.  I don't want to share my husband with even another me.

She would probably resent me.  Of course the only real benefit to have a double is that she can go to work while I can be having adventures.  Would she be mad that she is working, cooking and cleaning while I enjoy life with Jordan and the pets?  Or would she just accept that's her role, and her sole purpose for existing?

She would be an excellent employee, I'm sure.  She would be on time and very proactive.  I think she would do a better job than I would do. 

But do I really want a fake Bre encroaching into my life?  Joking with my friends, and talking to my coworkers?  I have a feeling she would get on my nerves.  She's not as funny as she thinks she is, ya know.  Sometimes she can be a tad too sarcastic, and tends to say some stupid things.  I would be jealous that she is living a whole life that I'm missing out on, even if it's the less appealing aspects of life.

Ya know, I think I want to live 100% of my life after all!  Haw dare this other Bre think she could be as good of a Bre as the original?!  I've got Bre on lockdown.

Sorry Bre #2, but the position has already been filled.  Please come back when I have kids.

Bre Minus Automobile

The Thursday before last Jordan, Maggie and I went to the zoo.  I've been wanting to post about this, but haven't gotten the pictures on my computer yet, so post pending.  But, this post is about the adventure after the zoo.   As we were leaving the zoo my car broke down, and I was fairly sure it was my transmission.  "Bre, how would you know the symptoms of a broken transmission?" You may be asking.  I will tell you . . . My transmission broke down a mere two months ago.  I paid a hefty price to have it completely rebuilt, and for it to break down again is frustrating to say the least. 

This car of mine has been in the shop for almost two weeks, and my anger about the situation rises with every passing day.  I don't care if I'm not charged (I really do care- I better not be charged) it's the mere fact that I'm inconvenienced at all that really upsets me.

I'm a fairly independent woman.  I like to do things myself, and I'm not a fan of asking for help, or accepting it.  It's the stubborn streak in me.  And I like to drive.  But, for the past week & 4 days, I have had to rely on others to take me places, and it blows. 

However, I've learned that there are certain advantages to me having no car.  For example, for some unknown reason, it appears the job of returning the Redbox had been bequeathed to me.  I don't know how that happened, it just did.  It's not my favorite chore.

"Jordan!  I'm going to return the Redbox, be right back!  Oh, wait!  I don't have a car, you'll have to return the Redbox!"

Mighty convenient.  (Shhh, don't remind him that I could have just taken his car)

My mom is such a doll.  She has called me several times to ask if I need a ride here or there.  She also asked me how I was getting to and from work, and I said Jordan was dropping me off, and then picking me up again.  This particular arrangement was a pain cause our schedules are not exact, and he usually drops me off late and picks me up early.  She said I was ridiculous not to ask my dad, since he works in the same building, at the same time.  I said I didn't want to inconvenience him to have to pick me up and drop me off out of his way.  She said I was retarded, but without actually using that word, and in more of a loving motherly sort of way.

So my peach of a dad has been taking me to and from work.

I gotta be honest. . . I'm getting kind of used to being chauffeured around.  It's starting to grow on me, and frankly, it's a little nice.  And although I'm still very much annoyed my car broke down in the first place, and I still hate to be a bother to anyone, I'm appreciating the simplicity of life without a car.

The Kitty We Should Have Named 'Dastard'

Saturday night I went to bed excited to sleep in.  But alas, Sunday morning I was woken at 9am to the sound of my dogs barking.  Not just barking, but howling.  I looked over at Jordan and he was gone.  Curiosity piqued, I got out of bed and found Jordan in the dining room with his entire head stuck through the slats of the blinds.  Curiosity of course escalated as many questions filled my head, such as:  Why doesn't he just peek through the blinds, pull them up, peek around the side.  But these questions were not answered 'cause he said something even more peculiar than his methods of looking out the window.  "Kea is out there."  Kea is our cat, if you didn't know.  And our cats are strictly inside cats, and for good reason.  I was confused.  Jordan then explained that he heard a loud noise, and then another loud noise, and went to investigate and there I found him staring out the window.  We soon figured out that the first noise was Kea somehow opening the cracked window wider, and the second was her clawing through the screen on the window and squeezing through.

Jordan hurried and ran out to get her and I ran to get my glasses so I could actually see and in the small minute time frame she had vanished.  We looked all over our neighborhood for the next hour, we looked up trees, under cars, in bushes and nothing.  We took the puppies out hoping they would smell her, we even brought Kloe out to see if she could locate her sister. Nothing.  I must have walked over the the area 20 times.  It didn't make sense, we kept saying, it's so unlike her.  Usually when they get out they stay close but we couldn't find her, and we were horrified to think how far away she could possibly get with each minute. 

I posted on Facebook that my cat had run off, hoping that randomly someone might see her and let me know.  My friend Maggie saw the post and called saying she was on her way to help with the search.  She came right as I was about to lose it completely and said that in this heat she probably wasn't running around, but was most likely hunkered down in the shade somewhere.  This statement made perfect sense and was ridiculously calming.  We continued our search, and walked all over the condo complex several more times, hoping that she was close.  Maggie walked around with a cat toy and dangled it in front of bushes hoping to entice her out, Jordan walked around with a broom and wacked the bushed hoping to scare her out, and I walked around with cat treats hoping to appeal to her tummy.  Nothing.  At this point we had to consider she got farther away and expanded our search. 

I took the car out and drove around for a while.  And, nothing.  When I got back I felt unbelievably discouraged and pretty much broke down.  My cat was gone, and I was never going to see her again.  Maggie suggested that we look in the backyards closest to our complex.  Which we did, and was followed by a weird man talking about his pit bulls, and learned of the drug deals that happen in the area at night, also my weird pit bull man.  No Kea in random people's backyards. 

We went back home and made posters to hang, and I emailed all the shelters in the area asking them to let us know if a cat by her description came in.  By this time it was 4:30 and we were starting to think that if she was holed up somewhere she wouldn't come out until it was cooler, but decided to go out walking again and just sit and wait until she comes home.  We did a thorough search of the complex and Maggie started climbing into and behind all the bushes and really giving them a good look.  One particular hedge she kept saying that it was really thick and dark, and would be the perfect place for her to hide.  Maggie continued her search and crawled into the very last bush in the entire complex, and shouted that she found her.  I thought I was hearing things, and ran over.  I called out to Jordan who was about to go out and put more posters up and he came running around the corner just as Maggie pulled her out of the bush.  After a long hot day of hiding in that dang bush we walked past a million times she didn't even protest when I wrapped my arms tightly around her and smothered her.  She was not escaping my grasp.  I can't even describe the relief I felt.

We determined she was too scared to come out when we called her and wacked the bushes.  And this is why her name should have been Dastard. 

das·tard

–noun
1.a mean, sneaking coward.

–adjective
2.of or befitting a dastard; mean, sneaky, and cowardly.

Sometimes I get in trouble.

Generally Jordan doesn’t read my blog. This works to my benefit because not always do I write about him in the most flattering of light. See this post. For the most part he only reads it if I pull it up on my phone and slap it in front of his face.

Yesterday I came home from work and the first thing he said was, “You are in so much trouble.”

Uh oh. I thought, He read the blog. “Um, what did I do?”

“I read a little something online.”

Yeah, he definitely read the blog. “It was a little funny though, right?”

“You are in so much trouble.”

“’Cause it’s funny, right?”

I don’t think he thought it was funny. That’s ok ‘cause I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I encouraged him to look at the comments.

“Comments? There are comments?” (Hee hee)

I showed him that all the comments say that their husbands do the same things, to let him know it’s not a big deal to expose him to the world. We women already know that men always stay boys. To which he replied, “Oh boys, they are so crazy!”

I figure I have another month until he decides to read my blog again, so I kinda think I have free reign to say what I want for the next two weeks at least.

Lately Jordan has taken to the following phrases during conversation; “There’s no proving that.”, “No one knows who (or what) that is.” And “I don’t believe you.”

Imagine having a conversation like that. It might go something like this’

Bre: “Oh look, there’s a kitty over there.”

Jordan: “No one knows what that is.”

Bre: “A kitty? It’s a feline, four legs and furry. We have two.”

Jordan: “I don’t believe you.”

Bre: “It’s right there.”

Jordan: “There’s no proving that.”

Bre: “Yes, there is. Just look over there. Bam, proved.”

Jordan: “I don’t believe you.”

It's enough to drive a gal insane, and possibly to her blog.  A couple friends have noticed his newfound craze and play it back on him.  It makes my heart sing when he realizes he's just gotten a dose of his own medicine.

A completely unrelated note; There is a huge box just sitting by the walkway in the IT dept, and I desperately want to climb inside it.  Somehow I don't think that would be viewed as professional.  Another observation about my IT dept, is that the area smells delightful.  I don't know if one guy has a great cologne, or if they, as a team, are just fantastically hygienic.  Either way, it's a pleasant place to walk through.

D-Listers, Trainwrecks & Famewhores

All right Hollywood, I'm fed up with the wannabe celebrities.  There are so many out there that consider themselves celebrities, and I have to ask why.

There are so many reality (or should I say "reality") shows going on right now, and people are getting ridiculously rich and famous off them.  When I first heard of Keeping up with the Kardashians I thought "Who are the Kadashians, and why the heck would I want to keep up with them?".  I still think that now.  Only now I add a few more questions such as, why do they talk like that, how are they fine with their fam seeing them nudie, and why are they popular again?

What is with the whole realm of reality shows consisting of showing groups of people just because they belong to some society class or another.  For example, Laguna Beach, Jersey Shore, The Hills, The City.  They all make me want to die.  And Laguna Beach has spawned a horrific thread of these shows.  Why would I want to watch a bunch of bratty rich kids?  Lauren Conrad- you have ruined television.

Heaven knows every D-List celebrity thinks they need to have their own show on E! now-a-days.  It's like they can see their fame slipping from them, and scramble to make up the distance by doing a reality show, which only shows why they aren't getting real jobs. 

What a blessing TLC is to families, 'cause if you have a butt load of kids, or you're a dwarf then you have just earned your own reality show on TLC!  Aren't genetics and the lack of birth control pills fantastic?  Admittedly I got sucked into the train wreck of Jon & Kate Plus 8, but if I'm being honest I didn't even start watching their show until their train actually crashed and the scandal of Jon's whoring around got out.  It seems as though once a show/person reaches train wreck status they really take off, and their success (in relative terms) doubles.

Well, I'm sick of it!  I will not acknowledge pretend reality shows.  Perhaps you could call me a Reality Purist.  These shows of people who are only famous for being on a crap reality show are ruining the sanctity of reality.  I will stick to my Survivor, Amazing Race and So You Think You Can Dance.  All the rest can suck it! 

Except . . . If I'm being honest . . . I'll prolly get sucked into Kate Plus 8.

Errands

Do you ever hear mothers say (or have said yourself) that it would be easier to run errands without the kids?  Well, sometimes I feel that way about Jordan.  He's a gem for certain, and I adore his company, but sometimes I feel like his mother when we're at the store and he's asking if he can get some Twinkies, and when I say no he sneaks them into the cart anyway.

About a month or so ago we were in the drive through at the bank and there were two cars to the left of us blocking our view of whoever was at the window helping us.  Jordan whispers that he wants a sucker, and asked me to ask the lady for a sucker.  I said no, I'm not going to ask the lady for a sucker for my husband.  He replied with the suggestion of asking for it or our kid.  I said no.  He then leans over me and yells into the microphone "I want a sucker, MOM!"  Which was easily a perfect impression of a bratty teenager.

Wholeheartedly embarrassed I conducted my banking business expediently and hightailed it out of there sans sucker.

For the rest of the evening I got to hear Jordan lamenting about his sucker.  "Gosh, I wish I had a sucker."  "You should have just asked for that sucker."  (Sigh) "I could go for a sucker right about now." 

A couple days ago we found ourselves back in the bank drive through, and yet again Jordan leaned over and asked for a sucker.  Instinctively I said no, but he persisted and I recalled the last time and determined it wasn't worth another evening of Jordan's regret.  So I asked the lady if I could have a sucker for my kid.  She said yeah, and Jordan immediately covered his mouth and giggled like a little girl, only this time we didn't have the advantage of cars blocking us from view.  I'd bet the teller knew exactly who the sucker was for.

We then went to Smiths to return a Redbox.  While there Jordan decided he needed more Mt. Dew.  I can say with the utmost confidence that the last thing that Child of God needs is more Mt. Dew.  We got to the beverages section and saw that the 2 liters were on sale for 84 cents a piece, with buy 4 get 2 free.  Sure, that's a steal of a deal, but my heart sunk when I realized that we would be going home with 6 2-liters of Mt. Dew.  Right now there are 3, (yes, 3) new flavors of Mt. Dew, and Jordan decided he needed all of them, including the classics.  The only problem was the new flavors didn't come in the 2 liters, they only came in the 24 packs.  Thus began the debate on how many he could get.  I told him he could get 2 (believe me, that was my compromise) and he began weighing the pros and cons of each flavor, thinking it through to ensure he made the right decision.

So here we have a cart with six 2-liter sodas, and two 24 packs.  I joked that we were going to have to tell the cashier that we were having a party so they didn't think we were nuts.  He took to this idea wholeheartedly and proclaimed that now we needed chips to go along with the party story.  I said we didn't need chips, but he saw Munchies in ranch flavor.  I still said we didn't needs chips, but he said "Oh, but they're ranch flavor, you must not have seen that" aaaaand they were in the cart.  As we walked to checkout he made sure he mentioned the awesome party we were going to have loudly so people passing by could be assured this fabled party was going down.

Maybe next time I'll just leave my child-husband at home.

Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time . . .

I met this boy.  He had blond hair and a nervous tic that involved brushing it out of his eyes and across his forehead.  He had a great smile and laughed a lot.  I was surprised to find out that we had the same peculiar taste in music.  He was a weirdo, that's for sure, but that's ok 'cause so am I.  We got each other and had a similar sense of humor.  He became my best friend.  We had lots o' fun together.  He filled up my ipod and I educated him on how lettuce is ok to eat.  He told me what an "EP" was, and I tried in vain to teach him that reading was fun and that Alias is a fantastic television program.  We went to lots of movies, and lots of concerts.  Sometimes, if I was lucky, we went on a trip. 

One day I realized I didn't want to be just friends with my best friend.  I also got the inkling that he came to the same realization.

My best friend became my boyfriend, and turns out that's the way to do it 'cause we didn't have to have an awkward first date with all the usual "How many siblings do you have" type questions.  After a while we thought Shoot,  why don't we just tie the knot?

Me'n that boy have been hitched fer two years now, and best friends for six.

Hard to believe.

Feels like forever.  (FOR-EV-ER)

The End

This Week in Pictures

I'm not really a fan of the phras Happy Friday!, it just seems a little cheesy to me and one step below Case of the Mondays.  However, I do feel like celebrating today.  It's been a long week and I'm ready to leave it behind. 

Normally I'm not big into pictures, but let's see what's been going on in the Day household.  Warning: There's a 91% chance they're all of my pets.

I took the liberty of labeling them, to provide further explanations.

The List

Everybody has a "list".  Some people call it their Bucket List, others Things I Want to Do Before I Die, or maybe it's not something written down, but it's more of a collection of desires they keep in the back of their head.

I just call mine The List.  I wrote this list down about five years ago, and I keep it in my wallet at all times, in case I need to whip it out and cross something off, or maybe I just want to revisit my dreams and say hello.  I have crossed off some things, and others maybe will never happen.  But they're my Dreams.  Would you like to see my Dreams?

-Volunteer in a 3rd world country
-Sit in Central Park and take pictures of strangers
-See a wild tiger and lion
-Play with a wild monkey

-Swim with Sharks-- This one I did in the Bahamas.  I was on a snorkeling trip with a friend and we were on a coral reef. When we got there the guide guy says that there are about 40 or so Caribbean Reef Sharks in there, he said "I'm not going to say you can or can't get in the water, just do it at your own risk."  Me and my friend were at the front of the line to get in.  At 4 and 5 feet long they were pretty intimidating though I didn't feel in danger.  The guide put in a feed box full of chum to attract them, and we were able to see their feeding frenzy.  It was an awesome experience.

-Fill my passport
-Be on Survivor or The Amazing Race

-Go Snorkeling in crystal water- This was in the Bahamas too.  We went to a privately owned island with a group of people, and the beach was gorgeous.  I get out to the water and it doesn't look very deep 'cause the water is so clear I can see right through it. I put on my mask and snorkel and have my first look, and there were tons of colorful fish, everywhere.  The water was so pristine they looked like they were flying.

-Go scuba diving

-Live in Cali
-Take my grandkids to the Beach
-Write a book
-Hold a tarantula (I have a very big fear of spiders, so I feel like holding a tarantula would be overcoming my fear in a big way)
-Go Skydiving
-Meet Jennifer Garner

-Meet Billy Boyd- I'm a big Lord of the Rings fan, and Pippin was my favorite.  I just love Billy Boyd and have always wanted to meet him.  I heard he was going to be in Park City for the Sundance Film Festival, and me and some friends were already going to be spending the weekend up there.  So I did some detective work and goaded information from people that weren't supposed to say where he was, and I finally found out that he was going to be at a certain building at the top of main street the next morning at 8.  We got there at 7:00 for good measure and we were waiting and waiting, and decided to go for a walk down the street since we had another 40 minutes or so before he was supposed to be there.  We were at the bottom of the hill when my friend calls me from the top and says that Billy is there!!  So I take off at a run, sprinting through the crowded sidewalk straigh up the hill. Some lady pushing a stroller tried to cross my path, but I jumped over the stroller and kept on running.  Who knew I could run like that?  I get to the top and . . . he's already gone inside the building.  My friend that saw him had talked to him and told him that his biggest fan was on her way and that she really wanted to meet him.  He said he would catch me on the way out.  So when he gets out of the building about 20 minutes later I hear "BreAnn?  Where's BreAnn?"  That's right, Billy Boyd was asking for me by name. 

I was a happy little girl

-Go to a different country in a week's notice- This was to the Bahamas as well.  My friend lived in Florida and I was flying out to visit him for a week.  We didn't know what all we were going to do.  We had planned to go to a concert, and go to Disneyworld one day, but we didn't have anything else planned for the rest of the week.  He called me the week before I was flying out and said, why don't we just go to the Bahamas?  Um, OK!  So he booked the flight and I booked the hotel, and I flew out to florida a couple days later.  We went to Disneyworld that night for a couple hours, the next morning we went to the Bahamas for three days, and came back to Florida for the rest of the trip, went to Disneyworld again and said concert and I flew home.  It was a vacay packed with awesome.

-See love in a man's eyes-  Incredibly cheesy, I know.  When I wrote the list I had never experienced the unconditional love of a guy (that wasn't related), and I wanted to be able to look at a guy and see that he loved me.  It was this slugger right here:

-Go on an African Safari

-Go to all 50 states

-Road trip across America- This one I did twice.  When my friend was moving to Florida I helped drive him from Utah to Florida, and then flew home, and when he was moving back to Utah I flew to Florida and drove him back to Utah, this time taking a different route.  To go with my goal of going to all 50 states I have a map, and when I go to a state I get a keychain from that state and hang it up on the map.

Seen conveniently in the background.  Also, a freakin' huge poster of Jennifer Garner.  This was my apartment when Jordan and I first started dating.  Please notice how ridiculously skinny I was back then.  I might also have Spiderman sheets on my bed . . . but it's not for me to say.

-Ride in a helicopter- Two years ago me and most of my siblings went on a backpacking trip to the Havasupai indian reservation, which is at the bottom of the grand canyon.  It's an absolutely gorgeous place, see Exhibit A:

The thing is, to get to this gorgeous oasis full of multiple waterfalls, it's a 12 mile hike in, and a 12 mile hike out.

There are many ways you can do the hike.  Backpack, horseback, put your pack on a mule train and walk, or helicopter in.  I decided to do the whole thing by myself, so I backpacked in.  I reached camp very proud of myself, but because my shoes were still relatively new I had an absurd amount of blisters.  When it came to hike out again, I hiked the first couple of miles, but because my blisters hurt I was going slow and told my fam to go on without me and I'll go at my own pace.  When I got to the helicopter pad I said screw it, I'm flying out of here.  And it was amazing!  The helicopter was weaving in and out of the canyon, which was terrifying, but incredible at the same time.  Absolutely no regrets flying out, 'cause it was a cool ride and I got to cross this off  The List.

-Have straight teeth

-Attend the Oscars

-Go to Stonehenge

-Go to a Broadway show

-Go to a Las Vegas Show

-Ice Skate in Time Square

-Feed a shark

-Do a wreck dive (scuba dive a wreck, such as an airplane or sunken ship)

-Go on a solo road trip-  This was about three years ago.  I was sitting in my apartment on a Friday night at 8:00 PM, watching TV.  Jordan was working really late, all friends had other things and I wasn't a fan of my roommates.  How lame.  My eyes strayed to my map hanging above my bed and I thought that I hadn't gotten a keychain in a while and Montana really wasn't that far away, right?  So, I was gassed up (my car, that is) and on the freeway by 8:30.  And I got my Montana keychain! 

 Thanks for taking a journey of The List with me!  Hopefully I can cross more stuff off, and I'm sure I'll add more along the way.