Stalkerific

Ok, I have a confession. I've been reading your blog. Yes, yours. Yeah, yours too. In fact, if you're reading this and you have a blog, odds are I've read the entire thing - from your very first post - or I'm in the process of it. I've said it before, and I'll say it again - I need a job. I'll admit, the library books do go a long way in combating endless ennui, but sometimes you just wanna spend some time mindlessy wandering the web. And one can only take facebook personality quizzes for so long. Especially when you've already taken them on quizilla and blogthings to put on your myspace profile (which you haven't checked in over a year). And even before that you were procrastinating writing not only college papers, but HIGH SCHOOL papers taking the SAME quizzes on emode, which became tickle, and now apparently doesn't even exist anymore. Dang. And believe me, some things really do never change. Like my results on some of those quizzes. Ironically, my results on the ones like "what day will you get married?" were never once the same, even when I put in the same answers. None of the results were right either, but that's probably a moot point now, isn't it?

Anyway . . . yeah. I've read everything. Seen it all. (And I've gotta say, Aunt Tawnya - great pics, you looked a lot like Grandma when you were little, and dare I venture a guess that I know which sister had to know how you wanted her kids to dress for your wedding before she could let us . . . I mean them . . . pick the pattern/fabric for the new outfits she'd be making?) It's made for some pretty good stuff. (Another aside - Aunt Sharon, the very first thing I thought of with your band name post was this. Assuming you're unfamiliar, you'll get it after about a minute.) Among other things, I've discovered that if I had ever had reason to think I was adopted . . . yeah . . . nope. Unless one of YOU is my real Mommy . . . ;-) Now I know where I get

~ my inclination to decorate . . . and my ineptitude at it
~ my extreme love of jewelry (personally, I go for necklaces and, to a small extent, earrings)
~ my obsession with everything Christmas (ok, that could arguably have been Mom . . . but she doesn't get near as into it . . . btw, how do you like this no names thing? Have fun guessing who I'm talking about!)
~ my tendancy to be paranoid about whether people actually like me or not (not entirely unfounded . . . but that's a subject for another blog . . . )
~ my lack of willpower around sweets (I can have a package of Oreos sit in my cupboard for a month unopened . . . the day I open it, one can only hope it lasts the rest of the day . . . )
~ my bizarre desire to have all light switches pointed down when the lights are off (not quite so extreme as to call it a need . . . and I'm soooooooooooo glad I don't have any triple switches!!!!)
~ I'm not the only one who's been on both sides of the "to have kids or not to have kids" question (I love kids . . . I also love giving them back when I'm done . . . )

And at least one of you can pass this little gem of a story along: the last time I was asked to give a talk in sacrament, I got so nervous the night before that I was literally up almost all night sick. Seriously - puking, or hurrying to the bathroom thinking I was going to until about 4 in the morning, when I finally fell asleep. I woke up at 10:45. Church was at 10. Sacrament first. Luke can vouch for me. So can my parents since, ironically, that happened to be the weekend they came out to Orlando to meet Luke. Yeah. Good stuff. Normally I just do the whole not-quite-a-panic-attack-on-the-stand-then-tears-of-terror-so-intense-you-can't-tell-if-I'm-talking-or-not thing too. Not this time. Oh, the horror. I can only hope my younger cousin(s) will be encouraged . . . or at least amused, and thereby less nervous because of sharing that story.

And to those of you not related to me - Sarah ~ I'm sad you couldn't make it to our reception as much because I didn't get to meet Trevor as because I didn't get to see you. Holly ~ switch Trevor for Katie. Adorable, both of them!!!

Also, so I won't forget in a future post, if any of you ever happen to be involved in planning a baby shower for me, I want a cake like this. Actually, no, I want that cake. And under no condition is there to be a cake like any of these. Eeww. Those last two are censored, but unless you want to answer awkward questions you might want to make sure the little kiddies aren't around before you open them. Again - eeww. (And Aunt Sandra - Holy. Awesome. Stargate. Cake!!! Can I have one for my birthday?!)

In case you can't tell, I've found ways to entertain myself while Luke is off being all breadwinner-y. Believe me, you'll be seeing more of those results. The good news is, these were the just-plain-wrongest.

P. ost S. cript
This one's in the same vein as the roomba kitties and last post's hamster. Luke and I both love kitties . . . Luke more than me. He has this cute little baby talk voice he uses to talk to cats . . . a voice that makes me laugh, although I can't see him using it on an actual human baby. We will have a kitty someday.