Le mieux blog dans le monde!

Last Friday Rusty and I installed a new car battery with the hope that my car would start (the old one was definitely dead). We ran to Auto Zone at 8am, thinking it would be early enough to get the car working before our 11am movie date. No such luck. We made it to the movie but were not car savvy enough to fix the thing. We installed the battery and the car was still dead. Rusty attempted to jump the car with no luck.

My brother gave us two bits of useful counsel, one of which we followed and the other we didn't "get".

POA #1 (Piece of Advice): The connectors were bad (I had battery problems in Boise during Easter weekend). We heeded this advice. We ran back to Auto Zone picked up two connectors, one of which we were able to replace (we gave each other pats on the back). The positive connector was too complicated so we had it towed to the mechanic to fix.

POA #2: Make sure the battery terminals are not capped. Well, I thought the negative terminal came in black just for the heck of it (a splash of contrasting color for the artistic driver) and Rusty apparently didn't even notice the terminal was a different color. Yes, I was embarrassed when the mechanic told me a cap was still on the negative terminal, but felt justified in taking the car in when he said he had to replace the positive connector.

The miracle? For a few years now I have not been able to lock the driver's side door without the alarm going off, so I just came to terms with the fact that if I leave something in the car it may or may not be there when I returned (car included). [Sidenote: One evening I parked my car at my apartment and ran off with some friends, not even paying attention to the fact that I had locked the door. The alarm went off for about five hours until I returned at 1 am (yeah, the neighbors were pissed!).] I went to open the door to drive home from the mechanics and found it was locked and, better yet, silent. The mechanic didn't say anything about fixing the alarm or turning it off. Now I just have to get into the habit of locking the door.

My advice: Don't believe anyone who tells you there is no such thing as miracles today! They happen when you least expect them.

Finally finished the novel Drood by Dan Simmons. It is a historical fiction of the relationship between Victorian novelists Wilkie Collins (the narrator) and Charles Dickens, who was in a train wreck and according to the story meets this mysterious being named Drood who is attending victims of the train wreck. Dickens then seems to be living in an alternative reality where Drood is an Egyptian priest who follows an ancient religion and is talented in mesmerizing others. By the end of the novel, the reader is unsure about the authenticity of Dickens's or Collins's accounts about this mysterious character or life in general.

There were many parts of the novel that encouraged me to seek out additional information:
* The Great Stink of London. There was summer in the mid-1800s where the smell emanating from the sewage and graveyards of London was so horrendous that finally a bill was passed in Parliament to invest in an improved public sanitation system. See the article London's 'Great Stink' and Victorian Urban Planning by Professor Martin Daunton.
* Wilkie Collins. Although the narrator of the novel, Wilkie Collins doesn't merit a whole lot of respect from the reader. He is painted as an inferior author compared to his friend Charles Dickens (although he certainly had a handful of popular works in his time); a major opium addict, which in the end shades his sense of reality (he begins seeing a doppelganger: "The Other Wilkie, which he claims he has seen his entire life but really probably only started hallucinating when his opium addiction spiraled out of control); and a murderer (although this isn't historically correct; in fact in the end, I'm not sure he really murdered his servants' daughter).
* Charles Dickens. The only Dickens I have been able to finish is A Christmas Carol, which I didn't think was wonderful. Maybe I should try something else, like the Pickwick Papers which his readers seemed to love. Dickens also was a lout (what man at that time wasn't?). He left his wife (who lost her attractiveness after bearing him 10 children) for a younger actress. Actually, he forced his wife out and forbade his children from seeing her, although according to an A&E Biography featuring Dickens, the children resumed their relationship with their mother after his death. Still, Dickens is shown to be a genius writer so I feel a need to explore his works and compare him to who I consider to be the all time genius writer, William Shakespeare.
* Opium. The Romantic and Victorians writers seemed to all be hooked on opium. Mostly I wanted to know what an opium dream was like without having to experience it firsthand. Historical information about opium usage can found at the Opium Museum. Not sure how accurate the following article is but the experience of the columnist appears to be like the experience of Collins in Drood: Confessions of an eBay opium addict by Peter Thompson.

Drood was very well-written (but it is very long mind you). Plus, any book that encourages its readers to research further information merits a starred review in my mind.

Anyone who believes the primary purpose of a woman is to be wed and to bear children or that she is defined by her husband contributes to the oppression of women, making her a second class citizen in their society. Think of all the heartache and depression that women who lack the opportunity to learn a profitable skill, to think and voice her own opinions, and to live independently suffer from.

Ideally, all women should learn to live independently. She should learn a skill so she can find employment if she so desires and/or when it becomes necessary for her to maintain her and her family's quality of life. She should learn money management skills. She should experience life and develop "street smarts" so she can navigate her society on her own. A woman must be confident that she can make a meaningful contribution to her society; that when problems arise she a) already possesses the skills, b)she is confident she can gain the skills; c) believes she can at least fake the skills to survive; and d) that she is resourceful enough to find an adequate support group and aid.

Perhaps the greatest triumph of the women's lib movement in the United States (and one that hopefully we don't take for granted) is that a woman was no longer limited to developing merely her domestic talents (including sacrificing herself for the sake of her children or piggish husband). Her options slowly but surely expanded to encompass a variety of educational opportunities. No longer is she limited to the reputable so-called "female" occupations of teaching, nursing, or secretarial duties. Now many women are doctors, lawyers, soldiers, CEOs, hold government office, have graduate degrees, and so on and so forth. Now women are recognized for their accomplishments outside of marriage and family life, nor is she expected to live through her husband and children. A woman can choose to be a stay at home mom, to remain single and pursue a career, or do both.

Yes, sacrifices are always made in relationships and probably moreso in a marriage and with children. However, a woman is no longer earning room and board by keeping house and cooking for her husband who works 8 hours a day and then comes home, puts his feet up, and expects to be doted until bedtime. A wife and mother has traditionally worked 12 hours a day and been on call the other half of the day.

This anger comes after watching yet another show about how women in third world countries are treated (chattel to their fathers and then to their husbands) and comparing these experiences with those of what I observe here in the States. Women in different regions of the U.S. seem to value different lifestyles, some of which are just a few steps away from what women in third world countries suffer--a truly sad phenomenon when American women have so many paths to choose from.

All women should recognize that they have a voice. They should expect respect and an equal partnership in their marriages and other romantic relationships. They should be able to respect their husbands, not just because of their husbands' occupations but for how their husbands act when in the privacy of their own homes. Husbands should be expected to take on the role of father, meaning they too are "on call" as soon they get home (when does a woman have time to make up the sleep she loses when staying up with the kids?) and carry their fair share of domestic chores (and fair is relative to the family).

Lately, I've been spending my evenings/nights multitasking on totally unimportant "tasks": watching a variety of television shows, playing Mah Jong Tiles, and looking at the social network sites. I'm pretty tired of the social networking and Mah Jong. Reading has been put on the back burner since none of the four books I'm in the middle of are particularly gripping (a couple are very well-written but slow going).

So that leaves television (and a smidgen of spring cleaning; my makeup and toiletry baskets are organized and my wardrobe reduced). What am I watching? All the crime shows I can and the Lifetime Movie Network.

We had a writer who used to use the Branch's computers for writing her self-help books. These self-help books included such topics as alcoholism and divorce. Her qualifications? Reading other self-help books, talking to people who have been through these difficulties, and Lifetime original movies.

I think my grandma was (and may still be) a fan of the channel too.

There are two themes that these movies use: kick-butt women (although, they are still very feminine and your run of the mill romance novel "strong") and women who are victims. Last night I watched a show with Diane Ladd who was in an abusive marriage, and when she tried to leave the guy he hired someone to knock her off. I also watched a movie (not a Lifetime original but aired on the station) about a woman whose sister died by falling off cliff. Turns out the woman's husband wanted her money and house so he sabotaged the rail on the cliff so she'd fall and die, but his scheme was thwarted when her sister fell through the rail instead. And the third movie (I only saw a quarter of it) was about a woman who took a trip to Mexico with her husband, but it turns out her husband had skeletons in his past and wife had to go against a crazy cult leader to save her kidnapped husband.

This is certainly too much Lifetime watching, not to mention too much television watching. Rusty is ashamed to call me wife and fears that I will end up conditioned to hate him. But there is an appeal to these kinds of shows and I have fallen victim to it!
1. After working long shifts and some overtime it is nice to not have to use one's brain and to sit and watch shows that don't take a considerable amount of brain power.
2. After spending all day helping patrons and managing staff, I don't want to socialize.
3. Watching other people's drama (no matter how far-fetched or how bad the acting is) helps me realize how lucky I am.
4. I find it inspiring and realize that I too could write these plots so maybe I do actually have some talent.
5. It is one of those guilty pleasures that will end in two weeks, when Rusty finishes working nights.

Also, warm weather is on the horizon and I almost feel more motivated to live life, rather than let it pass me by (see, winter holds me back so I should really live somewhere without the season).

I find it therapeutic to write down my thoughts, especially the negative ones. Doing so makes me feel like I have a voice, even if only a handful of people hear it. So here goes.

Every time I leave and return to Utah, I take a week or two to adjust to the fact that I'm stuck here for another few years. Two weeks ago, I spent the weekend in Boise with the family and four days last week in Austin with the urban family.

Q: My husband was the number one reason for returning to the Beehive State from the Gem State. The number one reason for returning from Texas, considering I had my husband with me there?

A: My sense of responsibility; although, one look at my work email prodded me to expedite getting on the librarian register for the military which closes next month. I shudder and feel trapped at the thought that the economy may take several years to improve (but at least I have a secure job now, ho hum).

Luckily, my husband is being exposed to outside influences and recognizes the benefits of diverse demographics and beliefs; yummy restaurants; beautiful parks; open-minded church members; and warmer weather. He even commented on how healthy the people in Austin looked compared to Utahns.

I'm tired of hearing people here talk about "the world" outside "Zion" and how the lives of nonmembers are shallow and rampant with sin. These comments come from the same people who are born and raised in the same county they decide to settle down in as adults, with limited experience outside the state (and, no, missions don't count). They also tend to be vocal about some fringe, gloomy, and strange beliefs that I've never heard before (and, no, I'm not being close-minded about these ideas either; they are just plain weird!).

Yes, the mountains and national parks are beautiful (the primary reason to visit Utah). The cost of living isn't very high. There are some respected universities and research facilities. I imagine the crime rate is pretty low (except for meth use). The Salt Lake City central library was named Library of the Year. The Olympics were here in 2002 (yipee!). It is home to a few celebrated authors. I met my husband here.

For some Utah is a wonderful place to call home. For me, well, let's just say that after 3.5 years I have yet to feel at home--and it's not for lack of trying--so I chalk it up to that maybe I just wasn't meant to spend the rest of my life here.

Yesterday was Rusty and my first wedding anniversary. We had a fun filled weekend in sunny Salt Lake City. The good weather was much appreciated; although we wished we had known it would be a couple weeks ago so we could have planned to celebrate farther than 15 minutes from home.

Friday night we went to Hollywood Connection & Ritz theater in West Valley City. We ate a snack at the 50's diner located inside the fun center. We enjoyed the golden 70's classic rock, which was funny aside from that the ambiance was a couple decades prior and the other diners were all under the age of 16. Then we walked over to the movie theater, bought tickets for Push (very different than expected), and played a round of miniature golf while waiting for the movie to start. The Hollywood Connection fun center has a lot to do and has reasonable prices; however, it hasn't been kept up. Expect ketchup on the walls of the diner, a measly arcade, a roller skating rink (which I couldn't get Rusty interested in), laser tag, and some small rides, including a great carousel.

After the movie we checked into the hotel: Hilton Salt Lake City. Turns out that the great deal I found on the hotel had a minor flaw: double beds.

See, the way Hotwire works is you set your limits on dates, location, number of stars, and price. The Hotwire databases finds hotels that match your criteria but you don't actually find out what you're getting until you have made the nonrefundable purchase. The site tells you what hotels to compare the deal to so you at least have an idea if you're getting a nice place or a rat hole. The reason you get a deal is that the hotels involved would rather get even half the price of a room than nothing. I was blinded by the $62/night at a four star hotel in downtown SLC. I made the purchase, found out the hotel was the , and patted myself on the back. I went to the hotel web site to take a closer look. My pride was crushed when I realized there was nothing said about the beds on my receipt from Hotwire. "What if we have a room with double beds?" I asked Rusty. "Then we'll have to cuddle," was his reply. Well, we had to cuddle and now our backs are sore. Otherwise, the hotel was very nice, the staff very friendly, and it was in a great location. Now I'm wondering what the sleeping arrangements for our Austin hotel in March will be like (2.5 stars and only $29/night!).

The next day, we drove to Sugarhouse via Redwood Road (yeah, we had lots of problems this time and later finding 2100) to eat at the Salt Lake Pizza & Pasta. As a connoisseur of pizza, it wasn't all it was cracked up to be as one of the best pizza parlors in Salt Lake but it had atmosphere. Then we stumbled along until we found the canyon we drove up on our honeymoon (to Brighton). We decided to go to Snowbird instead. The weather was sunny and fair but snow was falling halfway up the mountain. I've never seen people ski before so we sat and watched (neither of us are winter sports people), then continued on our drive.

We headed back to the hotel to drop off the car. We walked the few blocks from the Gateway Mall (I wonder how many Gateway malls and shopping centers there are in the country) and watched (well I snoozed) a show at the Clark Planetarium. Afterwards was dinner at a new restaurant, Tucanos Brazilian Grill, which had an odd setup and diners should really go there with an empty stomach. Our poor stomachs were still full so our options were tiny. We were pleased to see Rusty's sister and her husband dining at the table right next to us.

We rolled our way back to the hotel and napped until it was time to go to the symphony. Rusty played trombone in high school and college so he has a great appreciation for music and the arts. He offered information on the composers presented and identified instruments that have always been a mystery to me.

Over all it was a fun celebration and we hope to take it easier for Anniversary 2010; maybe just eat at a spanking nice restaurant.

Being married is more fulfilling than I ever imagined. Whenever I find myself thinking that I'm just fine on my own, I can't help but recognize that Rusty has helped me to become a better person. I'm learning to express my feelings (period!), I enjoy his companionship like no one else, and he picks me up when I'm down (which seems to be a lot more lately). I feel blessed to have him as my companion.

Today I found myself ready to throw a tantrum at work and opted to write my complaints rather than be admitted to a mental health facility.

Really the world should know how stressful the job of a librarian is. This morning my counselor commented on how she has learned a lot about librarian work from the clients she's had over the years and it is not what people generally make it out to be.

Librarians do more than check books in and out to people; although some days (like today)it seems like that is all we ever do (I went to grad school to do what!?). I actually had a jerk of a man accuse me of being lazy because I refused to do a last minute tour so his scout troop could get its library badge in time for the awards ceremony the next day. I wanted to punch him.

There are books to order, not only for your location, but for all the libraries in the library system. Then you have to personally go through every single book, DVD, Cd's, etc., each year to determine if it should be discarded, replaced, forgotten about, and what should be bought to fill gaps in the collection (ie series titles that are missing) for the next fiscal year. My branch holds over 45,000 items.

Then there are weekly story times, Dr Seuss birthdays, National Library Week, Children's Book Week celebrations, and all the other myriad of teen and children's programs offered throughout the year. Not only do we have to find the time to plan them for weeks before they take place, we have to carry them out, which usually involves performing in front of anywhere between 20-150 parents and children. Last year we had a surge in the amount of kids coming to library programs, probably due to the poor economy and the ungodly gas prices last spring and summer. There was also a surge in the number of items checked out and computer usage. All these surges in customer service but no surge or increase in the number of personnel to help them!

Then there are the customers, internal and external. As an assistant manager and children's librarian I get to deal with it all. We have people from all walks of life and all ages coming through our doors. Every single day is challenging. If you're not busy with patrons, then there are the personnel issues. If there aren't the personnel issues, then you're busy with customers and their problems. Usually it is a combination of it all piled up right on your shoulders.

We're expected to do this with a smile on our faces. Day in and day out we are expected to be polite when we are abused: yelled at and cussed at; accused of being rude because we charge patrons for items they obviously damaged and beyond repair (even our automated message reminding people when their items are overdue are called "rude"); and chided for not acting as people's personal secretaries. We have to ask people to watch their language, not to run or jump in the children's area, discuss the computer use policy with people who look at porn on the public computers, listen to people talk about their life problems, threaten to call the police on people who won't leave when they are asked to, listen to complaints about the content of library materials, explain that the item a patron said they turned is no where to be found in the library building regardless of whether they swear on their mother's grave that they turned it in (then it shows up in the book drop a week or two later), babysit kids whose parents believe the library is a safe place or that the staff will keep their kids out of trouble while the parents do online dating or run to the store, babysit adults... (I don't want to get into trouble for expanding on this one), and so on and so forth.

Working with the public is draining and doing it for several years for eight hours plus a day is detrimental to one's health. It must take years off people's lives. I used to think I wanted a job where I could make a difference; a job that means something. Now, I want a job where I sit in a cubicle all day and enter in data; where I can be left alone for a few hours and be allowed to actually get my work done on deadline; where I don't have to talk to a single human being!

Tonight was my first adult education yoga class. Until now my experience with yoga has consisted of trying to follow written instructions from a magazine and a video that I was too immature to take seriously. Life experiences and Miss Read inspired me to give it an honest try.

The highlights:

* The method of breathing (exhaling and inhaling through the nose only) was very relaxing and would have come in handy in the past to combat anxiety problems.

* At the end of the relaxation exercises (aka cool down) we said, "Namaste," which means "I honor the divine in you," a sort of blessing on all the members of the class. The instructor succeeded in conveying this message through the entire routine.

* At the end of class I felt like I was in a another realm; a peaceful realm where the people are full of love. This is a place where you are free from life, which lately is very exhausing. Yeah, it sounds like a cheesy Star Trek episode but it was a genuine experience and one I can't wait to have again.

The verdict? Yoga can be addicting! After just one class, I eagerly anticipate next Thursday's class and the overwhelming feeling of peace. You may think it's "new age-y" or just a fad, but think of it as a form of meditation or guided relaxation like prayer or other religious activities. We all deserve a break, even if just a matter of an hour from the hectic pace and stresses of life.

From the Online Etymology Dictionary:

doctor
c.1303, "Church father," from O.Fr. doctour, from M.L. doctor "religious teacher, adviser, scholar," from L. doctor "teacher," from doct- stem of docere "to show, teach," originally "make to appear right," causative of decere "be seemly, fitting" (see decent). Familiar form doc first recorded c.1850. Meaning of "holder of highest degree in university" is first found c.1375; that of "medical professional" dates from 1377, though this was not common till late 16c. Verb sense of "alter, disguise, falsify" is first recorded 1774.

A Ph.D. is a Ph.D. whether we're talking a doctor of health or an English professor with a doctorate degree. We hold them in the highest regard and expect them to be experts on their subject of study.

Somehow in my mind, the word "doctor" in regards to a health expert or someone who can write me a prescription seems separate than all the rest of the doctors.

I paid tuition to have experts in literature, linguistics, and library science teach me the trade. I pay doctors to make me healthy, although in the last three states none of them seemed to succeed and I had to take matters into my own hands to fix a problem--which I'm happy to say worked.

Is it ethical for our health experts to be influenced by health insurance and pharmaceutical companies to determine the course of action to determine someone's road to health? Our doctors and other health professionals should be teaching us and proving to us their vast knowledge of health and the human body. No more stick a bandage on it (or take a pill) and make it feel better for a month. Let's make them get to the root of the problem and teach us how we can be healed.

Last year I didn't make one New Year resolution. Part of it was feeling bogged down with wedding plans. Unfortunatley, I need direction so my general perception of life in 2008 was I was in limbo.

I exercised until June and then it petered off with no physical exertion from July until now. My goal to eat less fast food failed when in November I said, "Who cares!" when work became more stressful. I pretty much stopped doing anything to better myself, which had been a regular theme for my life for several years.

So this year my plan is to write down some goals in a fairly public place so I will remember to look at (Le mieux blog dans le monde!) and feel motivated to accomplish what I spew, thus living a more fulfilling 2009. The list will be on the the sidebar.

Here's to a new year and the opportunity to start with a new slate.

I really missed out. I'm played Flowerz (so addicting!) and listening to some Bon Jovi music downloaded on the computer. His career was probably on the decline when I was really old enough to form an opinion about muzak and I blew him off as just another hairy-hair band lead singer, except for the Keep the Faith single which I got for xmas in junior high and played over and over and over on xmas day (yeah, I was one of those people).

Of course the CD I'm listening to is from 2005 but that doesn't mean he didn't have some good songs before his comeback. I really like "Living on a Prayer."

And apparently Jon has a heart of gold. He's holding a benefit concert for Sen. Hilary Clinton to help her pay off some of her presidential campaign debt. What a guy! Forget putting a dent in hunger, saving the planet, trying to stop domestic violence or any of the myriad of truly important causes facing the world. I wonder if she'll attend the concert and say a few words. I wonder if she's a fan or used to be a fan. I wish someone would pass a bill or throw me a concert to pay off my debt. January 15, 2009 is the event in case anyone is interested in the Save Hilary concert.

So I broke down and saw the movie and was pleasantly surprised. It was nice to see a condensed version of the book and I eagerly await future condensed versions of the series in movie format. Edward was charming although he could have smiled more. Bella was good, but I became a fan after Speak. The "baseball scene" was awesome and my only complaint is that it was too short. And Jasper was absolutely adorable. The movie reflected how I remember life as a teenager to be--miserable--and I found myself giggling--a lot.

I went with my friend Nan, who is a mega fan of both the books and the movie. We talked and I came to the conclusion that I didn't really enjoy the books because I just don't like romance novels. Books that are of another genre with a little romance are fine; just not the formulaic romances. Plus, I'm blessed with a wonderful hubbie and don't need an aphrodisiac like I hear so many women claim Edward to be.

Latest books that I absolutely love:

* The Hero and the Crown by Robin McKinley
* Ophelia by Lisa Klein
* Courtney Crumrin & the Coven of the Mystics by Ted Naifeh

There was a time when I hibernated, well, year round. Mostly this was in high school, particularly the Alaska chapter.

This past week I've craved the sleep and luckily had today off to do so. I got up, ate Christmas day leftovers, read, slept, awoke, told Russ to get up for work, read, said goodbye to Russ, finished my book, and slept some more. Often I'd awake feeling guilty but remembered Russ' Dove chocolate advice to have a relaxing holiday.

Now I'm watching House Hunters International and wondering how I can move to Spain. I recently read a book that took place in Spain, and watching the beautiful scenery and architecture make it seem like a likely place for me. Not to mention it has very mild, beautiful weather as opposed to the the past two winters in Utah.

I'm really looking for a weather reprieve when we visit Austin for my friend's wedding in March. Hopefully this year an ice storm isn't due in Austin. I escaped the experience both years I was there and hope it is an every 3-4 years type thing--they had one last winter.

Here are my top ten places to travel. I've already visited a couple but would love to return.

1. The beach--it doesn't matter where so long as the water is warm like the Gulf coast.
2. The Mediterranean. I imagine the most romantic spots are along the Mediterranean Sea. Greece and Morocco are high on my list and I'm jealous of my friend Maggie who gets to honeymoon in Morocco next month.
3. Miami, Florida. Everyone I know who has lived in Miami loves it. To just think I passed up this opportunity with a job offer and came to Utah instead, but I met Russ so it made Utah worth it.
4. Chicago, Illinois. This is a super fun city to visit during the summer. The bay is a beautiful sight and there are many museums and parks that are fun to visit. The downtown is very nice and you really can't surpass the mass transit system. And our new president calls this city home.
5. Egypt. I've heard mixed things about Egypt. You have to take the difference in culture with a grain of salt and be prepared to meet those differences. Simply the magnificence of the Great Pyramids and Sphinx, Luxor, and temples would be nice to see in real life. I had a friend in high school from Egypt and so it easily made the list.
6. Kenya. While in Egypt, we may as well take a safari in Kenya. I hear this is the place in Africa to see the animals. I've wanted to visit Africa for years.
7. China. I've read some history and a little of the culture. It seems so at odds with American culture and such a deeply ingrained culture, much like other Asian cultures, since it is one of the oldest in the world.
8. Boston, Massachusetts. Boston is also a fun city full of history and a true cultural center. With it's many districts, there is something for everyone! There are some really fun restaurants and bars, with some of the best food I've ever eaten. It also had a great public transit system. I've only been to Boston during the winter and would like to see what it looks like without all the white stuff.
9. New York City, New York. Russ and I want to go to a Broadway play and eat at a fancy smancy restaurant here. I'm not sure we could afford to go shopping, though.
10. San Francisco, California. My friend will be moving here after she gets married so after a year or so hopefully we can visit the Bay area. My parents used to live here and had a book about the city with great pictures. I looked through this book time and time again as a kid. My sister and her husband spent their honeymoon in San Fran and others have said great things about San Fran too--another cultural center.

I didn't put Texas on the list because I've lived there and visited and plan to continue visiting regularly. And of course, there are other places I'd like to visit, such as all the National Parks (thanks Nevada Barr) and some church history sites.

There are so many places to go and people to see; so many cultures to learn a smidgen about first hand. Earth is such a diverse place. Even within the United States itself there is a wide range of cultures. My life goal is to experience a good portion of it before I die.

I took my church class on a "ding, dong, ditch" excursion last week. We were pretending to be Santa's elves and left homemade cards, ornaments, and goodies to some members of our church. The kids talked the talked but proved they could not walk the walk. Maybe it was that we had 6 (3 boys and 3 girls) and that is too many for this kind of activity to remain hidden. One girl didn't even try to hide and was chided by her classmates the rest of the night, which caused a whole lot of ruckus. One of the highlights of the night was when the boys, who were in charge of one particular house, were scared out of their wits: the owner of the house saw them and scared them as they approached the door.

On Sunday I spoke to the wife of the house and she said they didn't really expect to get anything out of the "ding, dong, ditch" and were trying to get back at the young rowdies in the neighborhood. Apparently there are many kids in the nearby neighborhoods from one end of the school boundaries to the other who either on their way to school or their way home like to ring people's doorbells and run off. This lady said they've had their doorbell rung with no one waiting on the doorstep numerous times. She said that once she opened the door and was greeted by a bag of poo lit on fire.

Another lady told me that it's usual for the doorbell to ring at her house at 3:30 pm, which is when school is out. She's been conditioned to not answer the door, but is reminded that her children will be home any minute.

Aside from seeing the dog poo on fire trick on the movies, it never occurred to me to either leave nothing or a prank while performing this rite of passage. My mom always had us kids deliver fudge to her neighborhood friends around Christmas using this technique. In college there were "chain" doorbell ditches where if you were hit you were expected to return the favor by delivering some baked goods to another apartment.

Still it was a humorous experience and the kids did beat their old teacher's house, which they failed just a few years ago. They swore it was a difficult house, but I knew they could do it if they just hid in the right spot. Maybe in a couple of years they'll learn to be quiet as they move from one house to another and to wait a few extra minutes before ringing the doorbell again just in case the resident is extra slow answering the door. Of course, by then they'll probably be past this stage, the girls more interested in spying on boys and the boys more interested in staying in and playing video games.

I have fond childhood memories of participating in the family presentation of the nativity for my father on Christmas Eve. My mom assigned each kid a part and we'd try to memorize our lines and hunt down props and pieces for our costumes (usually consisting of bath robes, towels, belts, and sheets or blankets). My Cabbage Patch doll Gus was always baby Jesus. We'd perform our lines and sing the appropriate songs. Once we visited Grandma and relatives in California for Christmas. The family tradition traveled with us and incorporated a couple of uncles who added the use of a shower cap to the costume repertoire.

These were happy experiences. The tradition has ended and the only nativity I've experienced the past 15 years are performances done at ward Christmas parties or video clips. Usually these performances are more professional than the ones we performed as kids, which means the cast took themselves very seriously and sometimes the adaptations went on and on and on and on, while overdoing the "spiritual" experience.

Well, that is until last night.

Last night I attended my ward's performance of the nativity at a real barn that an older couple in town loans out for performances such as the nativity. It is a rustic barn that has been wired with lights. Hay was piled up like bleachers on one side of the barn for people to sit on (at the risk of their precious lives). On the opposite side of the barn was the "stage" where benches were set out for the choir and a manager for baby Jesus.

Much to my delight there were real life chickens and a calf inside. Outside of horses, and sheep and goats at the petting zoo this was the closest I can remember being to farm animals, although I've lived in more rural cities (yes, this is possible in Idaho and Utah) for a total of 11 years. In these places it is not unusual to be driving through what appears to be an urban neighborhood and pass a field with houses on every side holding horses or hear a cow lowing from the distance. Following the example of a teen, I petted the calf (J would be jealous--or maybe terrified!) and was surprised at how coarse his/her fur was. I was just as tempted as the little kids to catch a chicken but refrained out of fear of being pecked. For me, a city girl, it was a cultural experience.

I arrived early while some of the cast were getting dressed for their parts. As the audience arrived via hay rides (I came straight from work and missed the hay ride), dust and hay was kicked up (and boy am I feeling it in my sinuses this morning). People came with their blankets, and luckily a happy couple shared with me since I was expecting a heated barn. The kids were excited about the animals and wanted to climb to the top of the hay.

Everyone settled and the production began. My experience with ward parties in the past and thus my stereotype of ward activities is that those in charge are pretty darn Martha Stewartesque. I expected this activity to be beyond Martha Stewart since I'm in the Mormon cultural center of the world. I was pleasantly and humorously surprised.

It was obvious no rehearsal had taken place. In fact, the nativity my family performed back in the day was more professional than this one. The narrator had to share his copy of the script with the angel Gabriel, who seemed to lose his place, and whisper Mary's lines to her from three feet away. Baby Jesus was a pile of blankets swaddled together and Joseph seemed more nurturing than Mary, who kept zoning out. The person working the lighting tried to spotlight the characters by turning the overhead lights on and off, but had to turn on and off every single light in the barn each time to find the right ones. I outright laughed in inappropriate places, as did our old bishop (phew!), and the gal I sat with kept commenting on how they should have rehearsed at least once.

It was a funny experience, animals included, but it was a worthwhile experience and I learned a lot about the talents of my ward members. There was charity present. As mentioned before, a couple shared their warm, thick blanket with me. My work schedule doesn't allow me to attend most ward activities, so outside the 11 year old kids I teach I haven't gotten to know very many people. My ward members are very friendly. There is musical talent that I didn't know about. The three kings sang "We Three Kings" in perfect harmony and the sister who sang "O Holy Night" a capella hit every note perfectly--it was amazing! The teens and children of the ward participated as characters in the play or as members of the choir and often out-shined the adults as they delved deeper into their roles. It was fun to see the support and enthusiasm (or lack thereof) of the people who volunteered to participate.

Overall it was a memorable experience and one I'll hold in my heart for many years to come. This time of year I look for opportunities to help me feel the true Christmas spirit. I hope we can all remember that outside the shopping and gift giving, parties, and merrymaking, that there once lived a man who sacrificed all he to help mankind heal from physical and spiritual ailments. A man who's birth we celebrate this season. And even if you don't believe this man ever lived or did the things attributed to him, the spirit of giving can extend outside our circle to those in need.

Happy holidays!

While the media tells us one thing, I think a good number of married women can attest that the media portrays an extremely unrealistic standard of what makes a woman beautiful.

After reading The Spy Wore Red by Aline Countess of Romanones(a memoir of a young model turned spy during WWII), I googled images of Aline (I google information about people I read about and the places they lived). In the book, Aline is wined and dined and described as being beautiful and fashionable. The image in my head of beautiful? Tall and skinny with delicate features. The images of the Countess on google? Statuesque and robust.

This doesn't mean that Aline is not beautiful. She just lived in a different time--a time long gone before I was influenced to the extent I have been by the media. That was a time when women like Janis Paige and Jayne Mansfield were sex icons. These women are no way "delicate" or "skinny". A glimpse at their bodies do not conjure thoughts of twigs snapping in two. These women have not only average sized breasts but they also have rounded hips and meat on their bones. Simply put, these woman have womanly figures.

When I complain to my husband that I gained 10 pounds last year and that I feel fat, he tries to reassure me that I look good. Until recently I didn't really believe him. He is sweet and always knows the right thing to say. It's not that he is insincere; he is merely gifted, not superficial, and he loves me.

Lately I've noticed young woman who are twigs and I think,"Ugh! How can anyone find that attractive?" It's not jealousy, because I have experienced jealousy in the past. No, this is something more. This is having my eyes opened and recognizing that beauty does not come in a size 4 or under. It does not mean that you can see my ribs or I have hardly any fat. It means that I am healthy, fit, and my metabolism has slowed down with age.

Men are physical beings. Maybe their brain's aren't their default thought processors, but I'm learning that they are attracted to women who are average, healthy sizes. (And big boobs don't really matter, so long as the women they love have some.) And a man can lust after a woman because he likes her body, but he'll love a woman he can relate to, laugh with, and have a physical relationship with (at the right time of course!).

To think of all the energy I wasted fretting over weight and size for the past 15-18 years! It didn't make me happy or carefree; it was frustrating and confining.

My new mission in life is to teach this bit o'wisdom to the young women, teenagers, and now elementary aged girls (because, unfortunately, more and more of this age group are becoming concerned with their looks) who are caught up in false notions of beauty.

Be healthy and enjoy life!

Rekindled Old Flames


If New Kids on the Block are coming to your town, I highly recommend you attend the concert! Muse is still the best concert I've been to, but the NKOTB concert is in the top five. Twenty years later, Jordan, Jon, Joey, Donnie and Danny still have the right stuff!

Upon entering the E-Center, the ticket taker directed Sahara and I to a line to receive better tickets. Instead of being up on the 2nd floor we were on the 1st (apparently most fans, while now old enough to attend the concert, were unable to afford to the better seats). Then halfway through the concert, we moved even closer due to a row of empty seats. Natasha Bedingfield gave a good opening performance, although it was a funny combo--a current hot pop star opening for a once-idolized boy band.

NKOTB performed its biggest hits and some of their new songs--their new CD is worth checking out. Jordan, Joey and Donnie stole the show; they performed the majority of the songs while Danny and Jon performed back up or completely disappeared from stage. I gave Russ the challenge of performing Jordan Knight style: sveldt chest shown to its best as a fan blows his unbuttoned dress shirt while he expresses his undying love por moi (I can see it happening).

The guys hit all their notes, danced well, and knew how to play to the audience. It was as if they had never broken up. There were even fireworks.

Truly a night to remember.

Mad About Cows

"Deba, where did the cow go?" my 2.5 year old nephew asked multiple times both Friday and Saturday night this weekend past. I was staying in a hotel in with my family for my beloved grandma's funeral services. Luckily, the cow was a quiet presence for Jacobi during the day. However, at night, the lack of light and the apparent lack of a certain cow disturbed the little guy.

Who knew a 2.5 year old could have an imaginary friend? And we're not talking about a little human imaginary friend for him to play with when no other kids are around.

His imaginary friend is a cow.

It's a love/hate relationship; he fears it, yet maintains a strange fascination for the welfare of the ominous cow.

And why shouldn't the little tyke fear the cow? Initially, I laughed at his eccentricity, thinking,"What's there to be afraid of from an animal as simple as a cow?"

Now I know just how creepy this so-called "simple" animal can be.

While visiting the old family farm, we came upon a herd of cows--or maybe they were bulls (can a cow have both horns and an udder?)--grazing in a field across the road. One heaved out a moo/bellow (depends on what the gender of the bovine really was) that the family found pretty exciting. It was obvious the bovine was telling us to get lost. Then, an eerie quiet settled upon the field. The bovine stared at us with a blank expression. Random cows amongst the herd turned their heads and joined in the creepy stare. It was really spooky, like something from Invasion of the Body Snatchers, except the cows didn't screech or point--they just gave us empty stares. One large-bottomed cow went to the trouble to pull itself up just so it could participate in the Evil Eye.

Jacobi thought it was fun to imitate the moo/bellow in the light of day. But at night, when the lights were out and the entrance into dreamland loomed ahead, he just had to know, "Deba, where's the cow? Where did it go?"

Money Management

The grass may be greener on the other side but peer pressure can be a positive motivator to refrain from keeping up with the Jones, staying out of debt, and getting of debt. We see recently our own government's reliance on credit to fund bills--including bills meant to aid the economy. We may expect the media to try to sell us stuff we don't really need, but to hear our nation's leaders urge us to spend and then go into debt to stimulate an ecomony in poor condition because of poor credit choices is unfortunate and confusing.

Kizze introduced me to Dave Ramsey and while I haven't finished Financial Peace Revisited yet (hey, it's nonfiction!), I have found him to have sound principles that also coincide with my religion.

I'm watching The Dave Ramsey Show and am enjoying hearing the stories from your average middle classman/woman on how they became debt-free. The show offers positive support for people in financial distress. These are people who make relatively small sacrifices in their daily lives. It may be a big deal to go without certain food products or nice things. However, with an eternal perspective these things really aren't that important.

There is so much pride and joy in the voices of the people who share their stories. Some stories sound miraculous and a little impossible, but the fact that they are true offers hope to all for getting out of debt. One guy paid off $95K in a year. Another lady $87K in a year. One family sold its nice pickup truck and bought a more practical vehicle to become debt-free. Another sold off a nice chunk of investments to pay for his huge amount of debt (what does it matter if you have all this money saved or tied up in investments when you have close to $100K in debt?).

How can a viewer not share in this joy and hope? If you're feeling lost in the maze of consumerism or trying to live up to the Jonese, I recommended checking out Mr. Ramsey.