This is Complicated . . .

Firstly, a discovery - I probably shouldn't go through the spook alley so many times next year. I had a bit of a headache when I left work Friday, but I just chalked it up to a busy day. But by a couple of hours after I blogged it was well on its way to migraine status. By the time I picked Luke up from work at midnight it was pretty bad. Not fun. And since the whole sleeping-it-off thing that usually works when I have a migraine decidedly didn't . . . yeah. Yesterday was unpleasant. And especially depressing since the marching band competition was yesterday, and I'd been looking forward to it for, like, two months now. Blargh.

I'm not really sure what brought it on, but since my mom gets a migraine if she smells anything stronger than (practically) water . . . and I'm assuming that extends to the rest of the family too, because it seems like everything does . . . I'm just going to go ahead and guess that it was caused by inhaling all those fog machine fumes all day. By the end of the day I was going through with pretty much every group, so that's kind of a lot of fumes. So I spent yesterday doing pretty much nothing, and the headache slowly died off, and I skipped church today just in case it decided to flair up again, as it did a few times yesterday. And I think I might be back to normal by tomorrow. Woo hoo.

Anyway. I'm betting you all thought I was kidding when I said I had to start planning next year's costume now. Nope, totally serious. Well, sort of, at least. Among the nothing I did yesterday I was thinking a little bit about costumes, and I realized just how limiting it is to work at an elementary school at Halloween. There really aren't a lot of costumes that work there, beyond your standard and pretty generic "witch," "princess," "scary/dead person," or whatever. I mean, think about it -

I could totally pull out my Elizabeth Bennett costume from a few years ago, and while the teachers would probably get a kick out of it, it would totally go over the kids' heads. Same goes for pretty much all of the cool/clever/funny pop-culturally relevant costumes that would be way fun to do. The Progressive insurance girl? Totally not going to get it. (a friend of mine from Florida just posted a picture of herself on facebook in this one, and can I just say . . . brilliant idea!!!!) Pretty much any TV or movie character? Other than Hannah Montana, I actually kind of hope they wouldn't recognize the other ideas I've had in the last couple of days. Sue Sylvester? Yeah, not going to get it. Or any other character from Glee.

The thought occurred to me that I could totally go as Quinn Fabray . . . but there again, to the kids I would just be a generic cheerleader, and to the teachers too unless I specified, and costumes aren't as much fun when you have to explain them all the time. I could always make it obvious by doing the pregnant cheerleader thing, but that of course explodes into the MASSIVELY inappropriate for an elementary school area.

Then you have my costume from a couple of years ago. It was really quite brilliant considering I got home from work and was informed "we're going to this Halloween party in ten minutes and you're coming with us so hurry up and get a costume on" . . . when I hadn't planned on dressing up that year. So I did a slightly frantic google search and five minutes later, voila!



Kay, so it's kind of hard to tell, but I was a nudist on strike. And it had an added humor factor because I phrased it the way all the gazillions of union fliers you see all over the place when you work at Disney World. Simple, fast, and slightly epically brilliant if I do say so myself. :-)

Of course, it's also a bit of a double whammy being both inappropriate and so far over elementary school-aged heads that it might as well be on the moon.

So . . . yeah. This might be tougher than I thought.


Moving on. Another thought. Gotta say, I kinda love retro costumes. You know, hippies, disco queens and kings, blindingly bright eighties outfits. So fun. But can I just say - it's kind of weird to see seven- and eight-year-olds in those costumes. Which I saw Friday. They were really cute, but just . . . odd. To me anyway. But good suppliers of ideas. So if anyone has any fringed vests or polyester bell bottoms or neon clothes they (for some reason) haven't gotten rid of yet, I'll take them!

Random question - can Farrah Fawcet's feathered hairdo be done to any hair long enough, or does one need to cut one's hair in a specific manner to be conducive to feathering? I'm not quite that dedicated to this whole dressing up thing, and I kind of just missed that trend back when it was new.

Okay, I'm off to make sure Luke hasn't died in his sleep or something. Because, oh yeah, did I mention that he's not feeling well this weekend either? Good times all around. Can I just say it's a really good thing the Halloween candy goes on sale tomorrow? That's seriously the only thing keeping me motivated right now.

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So this is probably totally faked . . . but still funny. And I'm willing to bet it's happened for real somewhere too!!

I *LOVE* My Job

So it turns out that Halloween is a BIG deal at Ellis. And that is . . . pretty awesome. Everything pretty much comes to a halt and the whole day is more or less one big party. And people like me? We get paid to wear costumes and participate in said party. I know, I have a really tough job. :-)

So I only found out about this whole Big Freaking Deal thing last week when I took my first trip down to the basement to see the beginning of the spook alley that is set up every year. And I hear about how it's all but required for the adults to dress up too. Which was pretty sweet, because I'd been wondering about whether we were allowed to dress up or not and how all that sort of thing goes and stuff, and it always good to have a question you've been wondering about for ages but a little hesitant to ask finally get answered. Yay! On the down side, that meant I had exactly seven days to come up with a costume. Good thing my idea was totally doable at the last minute . . . because I'd put in some majorly advanced planning.

Okay, back story - whilst in Florida, I bought a Hannah Montana wig. Random? Yes. Weird? Yes. But that's kind of just the sort of thing you do when you're a twenty-something working at Disney World . . . you buy random crap with your cast member discount that's intended for little kids with the intention of wearing/using it jokingly/ironically. I actually intended to buy all the princess wigs eventually too, but that didn't happen.

So anyway - I've got this perfectly good Hannah Montana wig sitting in a corner gathering dust, so for the last month I've been toying with the idea of building a costume around it, but never actually asking if we can dress up for fear the answer would be no and people would be all "what's wrong with you, this is a place of learning, blah, blah, blah," and think I'm some sort of . . . I don't know. Insert something negative here. Because I am that pathetically paranoid about people not thinking highly of me. Yeah, it's sad. Moving on.

Now, conveniently enough whilst on my recent modestly splurge-y shopping spree I picked up an awesome necklace and some really great earring, that as I'm forming this outfit in my head I'm realizing would totally work perfectly. And of course I have jeans in spades and some super cute boots . . . of course, a top of some sort is also slightly necessary when one is working at an elementary school. Ultimately I found myself at DI Wednesday purchasing a bright pink halter top and a be-glittered denim jacket.

And can I just say . . . TA DA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



'Kay, so this was taken at the end of a long day, and by this point the wig just would not stay on my head without slipping back immediately, so I'm sure you noticed that peak at my real hair . . . but you'll just have to trust me that I looked AWESOME at the start of the day! Sadly, too awesome for it to occur to me to take my camera to work with me so I could get someone to take a picture while the outfit was at its peak . . . and of course Luke wasn't an option since he doesn't wake up until hours after I leave for work. Blargh. I promise, I looked great. (and anyone who saw me first thing in the morning - feel free to back me up, lol)

So the day starts off pretty normally . . . except, you know, for the fact that everyone is dressed a little bizarrely for a normal day . . . and as soon as I walked into the 4th grade class I start out in I knew it was going to be a good day. Because I was pretty much an instant hit. After a few gasps and some stares it kinda went like this:

"Hannah Montana!"
"It's Hannah Montana!"
"Who is it?"
"It's Miss Lacey!!"
"Miss Lacey is Hannah Montana!!"
"AWESOME!!"

Yeah, I felt pretty good. I did a few twirls, and everyone was eager for me to check out their costumes too Woot. It was fun. It was great fun. Ahh, who am I kidding, it was pretty fabulous. Dare I say fantabulous? Yeah, I dare. :-) Especially since I continued to be recognized all day. My third graders especially thought it was the coolest costume ever for a grown-up. Yay!

(note: when I say recognized, I mean as Hannah Montana. Bunches of people didn't recognize me. Which was kind of awesome. I mean, I knew my costume was good, but I never imagined it was that good!)

So it was more or less business as usual for that first hour, but after that all . . . something . . . broke loose. I spent the rest of the day escorting small groups of kids at a time through the spook alley. (and being immensely jealous that the rest of the kids, whilst waiting for their turns, were watching Ichabod and Mr. Toad and Garfield's Halloween special . . . talk about of two of my all time favorites!!!!!) It was . . . interesting. I'm not much of a person for haunted houses and such myself, so the first time through was a little unpleasant, but after I knew what was coming I could enjoy watching the kids scream - or laugh, depending on just how tough they were. (also - I'm pretty sure Aunt Sharon won't be able to talk for, like, a week. She pulled off a crazy intense wail as chief mourner in the funeral scene. It was pretty awesome.)

Since I had a decidedly non-scary costume I pretty much stuck to the back of the group as the official hand-to-clutch/keep everyone moving person while various decidedly scarier looking adults lead the group and narrated our journey from funeral to morgue to graveyard to inside a crypt and out. Good times. It was really interesting to see who was too scared to go through, who chickened out, who wanted to go through with the lights on and the like. And I gotta say, I was rather amused to go through with some of the "tough" boys I work with . . . who backed out the door after merely seeing how dark it was, insisted on holding (read: squeezing intensely) my hand the whole way through, and were quite audibly whimpering by the time we got to the end. The last two times through were with groups of 5th grade girls, of whom I knew a few from last year . . . slightly unfortunately for me, as they insisted on placing me in the middle of their hand-holding chain. I think my ears are still ringing from the stereophonic shrieking. Also - it's amazing how tough small kids can be. As in, how tightly they can squeeze your hands . . . how thoroughly they can wrap themselves around your waist or arm . . . how easily they can render you immobile because they've been literally scared stiff. Quite eye-opening, I must say. One time I went through with two holding my hands and two with arms wrapped around my waist . . . it was kinda hard to walk that time. I think that was also the time I nearly killed myself (and probably the kids too) because the heel of my boot got caught on the sheet hanging from the ceiling to separate the "rooms" but they wouldn't stop walking so I'm kind of hopping along trying to disentangle myself and my foot is kind of getting farther and farther away from me until I finally pull myself free and I probably tore something (sheet-wise, not me-wise) but everybody made it through.

Speaking of breaking things, I'm rather pleased with myself for not breaking both ankles. The aforementioned super cute boots have a three or four-inch heel (honestly no idea), and I don't generally wear heels except for to church. So while I love wearing heels, my feet are only up for wearing them for about three hours. Which wouldn't have been much of a problem, as I on;y work 3.75 hours a day . . . but I was having so much fun I volunteered to stay and help out the rest of the day. Plus the stairs down into the basement are pretty steep - and I didn't usually get to use a handrail because even there at the beginning there were kids clinging to me. Talk about a potentially deadly combination! Anyway, the boots have been off for about four hours now. And my feet still hurt. Blargh. Tomorrow I am walking to the stadium for the marching band competition, and when I get there I am putting my feet up on the seat in front of me (because I will specifically choose an empty seat) and I am soooo not moving until I go home. Oy.

Anyway, moral of the story: I like playing dress up. And I have the absolute best, most perfect job for me out there - as if we hadn't already figured that one out. And I'm totally going to start planning my costume for next year, like, Sunday. And I totally can't wait!! Especially since I've started out by setting the bar so high . . . I mean, I've gotta top this next year, right? :-)

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It's time for another cute kitty video! Sadly this, one is not Garfield and therefore I am not reffering to Nermal. (one of the most epic days of my life was the day I found out Abu Dhabi is a real place, btw.) But these are some big, cute, awesome kitties. Happy Halloween everybody!!

This One's All About Socks

Seriously. Well, except for Lacey's Completely Random Picture


And therein lies the beauty of it kids. :-)




Anyway. Story time. Hop into the way,way back machine with me.
*insert cheesy sitcom dream/flashback wavy lines and wavy music here*

So when I was a kid my socks always had to match my outfit. Precisely. Not my doing, mind you. It was one of the things my mom was insanely particular about. We'd go back-to-school-clothes shopping and after getting a few outfits we'd go looking for a pack of socks in the appropriate colors. And if there was a color in the pack that didn't match anything I already had, sometimes we'd go looking for an outfit specifically to match the socks.

I didn't really care either way, beyond wondering why it mattered so much that my socks were the exact same puke-ish shade of plum as my shirt (gotta admit, I picked out some weird clothes as a kid sometimes too). I vaguely remembering asking why it mattered once . . . I think the answer I got was "it just does." Or something like that.

By high school I was wearing white socks. All white socks, all the time. I figured it didn't really matter what my socks looked like - I mean, it's not like anybody really sees them all that much. That said, there is a picture of me at the last dance of my high school career dancing in super-dark blue jeans and white socks. And I guess I do look kind of silly. (and yes, it's on facebook if you're that curious.)

Summer after my senior year I bought some great pink socks. They said "glitter girl" on them, so I had to buy them. That probably makes me sound very ditzy and shallow and whatever, but there was actually some very special significance to that phrase that led me to buy them, but that's another whole long back story that I'll have to save for another time because this is already shaping up to be one of those marathon posts . . . so I'll just say in advance, mad props if you finish this one.

Anyway. Fast forward to my sophomore year of college. I had some pretty freaking awesome roommates that year, for a plethora of reasons. One of them being socks. Two of my roommates were cousins (still are, last time I checked, lol) and one's mom had this tradition of buying all the females in the family socks for every holiday. And for that year, my other roommate and I were included in "family." Which was awesome, because I kid you not - every. Holiday. I got New Year's socks that year! Sweet!!

Mom tended to send me holiday packages too, even though I went home for, you know, every major holiday. But that was okay because 1) CANDY CANDY CANDY CANDY!!!!! and 2) getting packages in the mail is just so much fun! And when I went home, she saw my awesome socks. (and they were AWESOME. My Halloween socks were purple with witches riding on vacuums. Awe. Some.) I suppose she felt she was being upstaged in the care package department, because starting the next year there was a pair of socks in every package. Granted, only a pair for me - not all my roommates too - but still . . . I got more awesome socks!!! Woot!!!

Random brief tangent - sadly, all the socks I got that year have long since worn out, because I wore them all the time. Because funky socks rock. All I have left (sadly) is one green St. Patrick's Day sock with white clovers, which I have paired with a blue sock with a kiwi bird on it my parents brought back from their first trip to NZ (which was that same year, actually) because they've both lost their original mates . . . either from death-by-wearing-out or abduction-by-evil-sock-eating-dryer. (seriously, what is up with dryers eating socks?!)

Anyway. Awesome socks. I'm loving them. And they keep coming to me. By this point they've become standard stocking stuffer fare at our house. (This is probably also the about the time Shay started wearing mismatched socks deliberately. The deliberately mismatched earring came later.) And I'm buying a pair hear and there, so by the time I graduated from college I had enough awesome socks that they were all I had and all I ever wore. And it was good.

So then I went to Florida. And was confronted with the most terrifying thing for a sock junkie: the Disney Look. The Look being - if you wear pants you wear black socks. If you wear shorts you wear white socks. (with black shoes. Feel free to make jokes, heaven knows they've all been made before.) And since the last time I wore shorts I still lived in Idaho . . . well, black socks it is!

You know what? Black socks suck. I don't know what it is about plain socks, but they shed lint like a . . . I don't know, whatever it is in the world that sheds most ridiculously. Other than plain socks. My awesome socks always come off clean, but I would pull of those icky black socks after a ten hour day and my toenails would be black. With sock lint. Ew. Not cool. I kinda really hated it. And then I started working at the water tank. And I discovered that I only thought my feet were getting sweaty and gross in the humidity before. Double ew. No, triple ew. NOT. COOL. I really hate plain black socks.

Confession: at the time I had a pair of black socks with slightly sparkly silver hershey kisses on them. Sometimes, especially when I was still a CP, and especially during holiday times when they've got everyone on mandatory overtime working 7 days a week, 12 hour days (ok, that might be a slight exaggeration) you just don't have time to do laundry . . . or if you do, you just don't have the energy. Especially when you think about how not only is there not a washer in your apartment, there isn't even one in your building - you have to walk halfway across the complex (okay, okay . . . it was across the street and down about half a block. But when you're that tired the laundry might as well be in Tahiti . . . which would have been nice, actually) there's just no way you're going to get up the motivation to do laundry. Even if you're out of socks. A couple of times I bought more socks to put off doing laundry. Sometimes I wore my awesome hershey kisses socks. Technically it was a gross violation of the rules, but in actuality . . . well, the pants I was wearing generally dragged a few inches on the ground since Costuming is completely incapable of labeling their costumes accurately. So I totally got away with it. I was careful when I was out in front of people, and my fellow cast members who saw either weren't in any position of authority to lecture/discipline me, or were practical enough to realize they had more important things to care about.

By far one of the best things about leaving Disney was tossing out all my icky black socks right before leaving. I still remembering the feeling I had when I realized I had enough clean socks to last me until my last day . . . holy euphoria!!!!! I've worn only awesome socks since. And it's been awesome. Dude, I even wore zebra-striped tights at our reception. :-)

(btw, huge shout out, mad props, and all that jazz to Aunt Sharon for buying me those rockin' tights way back in the day!)

So, at this point you're probably thinking I'll start wrapping things up. But . . . no. Actually, this whole huge back story was just a lead up to the fabulousness that was yesterday.

We tend to go the mall a lot on Luke's days off. Luke is a total technology geek, and he loves to go and geek out at the store that sells records and Atari games and VHS cassettes and super old video game consoles. And it's fun to watch him go off about how cool all this old stuff that probably doesn't work is. Yeah, total geek. Anyway, there's a new store at the mall . . . for those in the know, it's in that corner spot that was a jewelry store for forever and then had a brief stint as some clothes boutique or other last year. (side note - what is with the corner stores at malls always being jewelry stores. Always! You never see one in the middle . . . what's up with that?) But now that little spot is a marvelous little placed called . . . *drum roll* . . . All About Socks! How awesome is that?!?! How absolutely perfect?!?!?! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I've known they were coming in for about a month now, and I've been SO EXCITED. So it pretty much totally made my day to see them open yesterday, and we absolutely HAD to go in. No intention of buying anything, just scoping the place out in preparation for (many) future purposes. Gotta say, super excited to see a pair of koala socks . . . yeah, totally getting those sometime soon. I mean, I have dolphin socks, I have kiwi socks (a new pair from the last trip to NZ, in plus the one surviving kiwi sock from back in '04), dolphin socks . . . I have to finish the favorite animals of all time trifecta. Still, had no intention of getting them yesterday . . . and we didn't - although I absolutely will. However, how's this for crazy? They've been open for days and they're already having a clearance sale, getting rid of some sock from the old location. (again, for those in the know - this would be the new location for the sock factory's sock outlet store) Awesome socks for A DOLLAR!!!!!!!!! ONE DOLLAR FOR AWESOME SOCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Again - day = made. So now I have red socks with teddy bears and Christmas presents, and blue socks with penguins in Santa hats. Also - I have Hanukkah socks!! Kind of the greatest thing ever. I mean, I have or have had socks for every other holiday out there, so really when you think about it I needed Hanukkah socks. And now I have them. And all is well.

And as we speak I am totally rocking my Nutcracker Ballet brand Nutcracker socks. Light blue with snowflakes and ballerinas in white and blue dancing around my ankles. These new socks might even be better than the knee-high, glow-in-the-dark, purple, black, and orange skull socks I bought at Kohl's about a month ago.

I cannot wait to go back for more. I was really worried that it was going to be a temporary store since there have been so many of those popping up in the mall in the last couple of years, but the guy who was working there said they're there to stay. YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!

Think about it - socks are the perfect thing to personalize. you try to be funky or non-traditional with your clothes and at least some people are going to give you funny looks . . . which for me, with my irrational need to fit in and at least pretend I'm popular would just kill me. So you go about your day looking and acting normal, but all the while knowing that you're wearing rainbow striped toe socks. (weird side note - I hate flip flops because of the toe thing, but I love toe socks. Explain that one.) Or sock with two cats sitting on top of a recycling bin surrounded by little hearts. Or pink socks with flamingos. And people would totally give you weird looks if they knew, but they don't, so for some odd reason they think you're cool or something, and all the while you are rocking the awesomest socks that ever were rocked. And that, my friends, is awesome.

Moral of the story: if you ever find yourself needing to buy me a present, get me socks. Awesome socks.



Okay, here's the reward for making all the way through this latest massive post - the latest hysterical (IMNSHO) Luke-ism:

"Haven't you seen that movie Hedgehog Day?"

Ummmmmm . . . nope . . . and I'm pretty sure you haven't either. :-) I laughed for a solid five minutes at least at this one yesterday. It was pretty great.

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Just a clip because they still show this one on TV. I'm still eagerly awaiting the commercials that will tell me when it's on this year . . . they better show up soon, dangit! Also, every year I'm a little sadder that they don't show Garfield's Halloween Special anymore.

Just Plain Random

So I really hope you aren't getting this news from me (although I will admit I get most of my news from Jon Stewart and The Onion), but the Chilean miners are out! Yay!!! We saw the last few come up last night, and I gotta say it was pretty incredible. Isn't it amazing what modern technology can do? Seriously - awesome.

Anyway. I have to admit to a couple of related thoughts recently that are of, perhaps, questionable propriety. I'll let you be the judge.


1. Early on this week (or perhaps late last week . . . can't remember) I happened to be in the room where a conversation took place all about this very topic and how awesome it was that they were going to be getting out soon and all that good stuff. And then one person says something about how all the miners are fighting (so to speak) about who's going to go out last. At which point the conversation explodes into 3 or 4 people saying essentially "Can you believe that? If I were down there I'd be saying I don't care who's last as long as I'm first!"

At which point I thought to myself "if that was the mentality of the guys down there, there probably wouldn't be any living guys left to rescue at this point." I realize these speakers have never been in such an extreme situation, and might well act differently if ever they were - but that disposition is definitely a point against them. I mean, what happened to working together to get everyone out? Where did such an entitled "me first" mentality come from? I have to admit, I've seen it in myself a time or three. But so many people see nothing wrong with that way of thinking. Holy depressing.

2. I absolutely could not help wondering if they rescue peoples sent down a barber before sending the miners up. I mean, good grief, did you see how clean shaven they were?! After two months?! I'm calling no way . . . unless Chilean men just don't grow facial hair or something. If Luke goes two WEEKS without shaving he starts looking intensely scruffy. And since he absolutely hates shaving, he hasn't shaved since . . . well, about the time that the mine collapsed . . . so about as long as them. And he is definitely rockin' the Heber J. Grant look right now. Explain that one to me. Crazy.




In completely unrelated news, we replaced Luke's car last week. Another Taurus, but it's 3 years newer and in really good shape. Also - neither of us had ever spent so much money in one chunk before. That was kind of a big deal. Then dad had to go and totally ruin our moment talking about how writing six figure checks used to be a big deal and then eventually he even got used to writing checks for multi-millions. Which would have been much more impressive if we hadn't both known they were for work (because heaven knows they weren't personal checks!). Apparently accountants write big checks sometimes. Woo-hoo.


And one bit of really awesome news - I have often (in real life anyway, not here) waxed eloquent about how much better European chocolate is than American chocolate. Because, well . . . it just is. And Cadbury? Kind of amazing. The first time mom and dad went Down Under they brought back tins of Cadbury goodness and a story I vaguely remember about Mars and Hershey joined together and somehow kept Cadbury out of the US except for the ambrosia that is the Cadbury creme egg (original, if you please) sold through one of them at Easter. Because they know that if Cadbury was readily available around here - they would totally go out of business. Yes folks, they are that good. Anyway, they have a lot of fabulous confections, but my favorite, by far, is the Crunchie. Holy. Yum! But the only place I've ever seen to get them on this entire freaking continent is in Florida. Disney World, actually. And to be precise, Epcot, in the UK pavilion. Along with all the other fabulously delicious British treats.

So anyway. A couple of weeks ago we were at the mall here in Logan and I was totally craving some chocolate so sort of on a whim I decided to check out the candy store, which I had never actually been into before. And they have this thing called seafoam, and I'm immensely curious as to what it is because as far as I can tell they're just chunks of chocolate sitting on a tray. So I ask, and the high school chick says it's sort of like honeycomb. Chocolate covered, of course. Well, I wasn't even thinking about Crunchie because I'd more or less accepted that you can't get it anywhere near here. But that sounds tasty, so I thought I'd try something new. So I get a few pieces . . . and when we get home and pull them out, lo and behold THEY'RE CRUNCHIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Seriously, random shapes instead of candy bar form, but absolutely my beloved Crunchie bar. YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I feel like Christmas has come early - and it's going to be very hard to avoid popping in for more every time I go to the mall from now on. Good times.


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You probably already saw this when I posted it on facebook . . . or when everybody else posted it on facebook . . . or when everyone else put it on their blogs . . . but you know you want to watch it again. Because it's that awesome. And you know it.

I Just Got Cooler

Have you ever heard of synesthesia? It's kind of a cool thing. And I highly recommend checking out Wikipedia for just a second.

Anyway - crazy story for the day. But first, a little back-tracking. So among all the NPR and Harry Potter podcasts I've also got a substantial list of podcasts from How Stuff Works. And I gotta say - they're pretty cool. Pretty really cool. And about a month ago . . . maybe longer, I can't really remember . . . the Stuff You Should Know podcast did an episode about synesthesia. I'd heard of it before, but the podcast was still interesting and I learned some new stuff and it was cool and I thought of how awesome it would be to be a synesthete and then I more or less forgot all about it.

Okay, change of scene. Did you know Hastings has a happy hour every afternoon in their coffee shop? Because they do. And it rocks. Two drinks for the price of one and free flavor shots. YAY!!!! So that's rapidly becoming a weekly tradition for us on one of Luke's days off. Woot. Anyway, last week the barrista had samples of frozen hot chocolate . . . and oh my holy crap IT IS DELICIOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Absolutely fantabulous!!!!!!!!!! SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And yes, I'm raving - but believe me, you will too if you try it. So this week I decided to try a frozen white chocolate with a shot of caramel. Which it turns out is the same thing as the creme brulee on the menu, except without the coffee. (side note - did you know that frappachinos are kosher . . . and by that I mean "Mormon kosher"? Crazy! And would you believe I learned that from my mother of all people?! CRAZY!!!) So I get the coffee-less creme brulee, and it's pretty fantabulous too. Unspeakably fantabulous, to be precise. Wow. Just . . . YUM!

So I'm extolling the myriad virtues of the frozen white chocolate with caramel to Luke, and eventually I get to the point where I'm talking about how much I love things that taste warm. That would be the point where Luke looks at me like I'm nuts. Which, I have to admit, is a look I'm rather used to since we give each other those looks all the time. But this time I have no idea why I'm getting it. So then he's like "Ummmmm . . . warm is not a taste." And then I'm all "Well, yeah, I know, but there's just no other way to describe some tastes, don't you think?" And then he's all "Ummmmmmmm . . . no." And I'm all "Ummmmmmmmm . . . what?" And by this point we're both giving each other the "you're nuts" look. So I end up having to launch into my explanation.

Which goes thusly: when I eat cold things with a flavor that is normally attached to a warm food, in addition to tasting . . . well, caramel-y or whatever . . . it also tastes warm to me. It doesn't warm me up like drinking hot chocolate or soup or something would. The taste sensation I get just identifies itself as "warm." I get the warmest sensation from cotton candy snow cones - where the warm taste almost overpowers the deliciously pure sugary goodness taste. Cake batter ice cream does the same thing, and a few others here and there.

So I explain, and then Luke looks at me a little incredulously and says "You have synesthesia!" And I guess there must have been some confusion in my surprised look, because he starts explaining what it is. So then I tell him I know exactly what it is, it just never occurred to me that I might be one of those freaks of nature (lol) because doesn't everybody else taste warmth too? Seriously. I never imagined that I was the only one . . . it's normal to me, therefore everybody else must taste it too . . . right? Weird! But no, Luke is like "you have taste/touch synesthesia" and I'm like "wow, I guess maybe I do." And I felt like I gained just a little bit of coolness.

Yeah, I'm kinda weird. And I probably just got weirder, not cooler. But that's kinda okay by me. Because I like things that taste warm. And next week I am sooooo trying the cotton candy frappe off the kids menu. Can't wait!!

P. ost S. cript
Too funny. Beyond too funny!

What the What?!

Today has been rather filled with some pretty bizarre moments. Well, okay, only a couple. But still. On the bizarre-ness scale, these ones rank high enough to be the equivalent of a day full of one "average" bizarre moment after another.

So - back story. We're going to Salt Lake tomorrow to see The Lion King. It's our anniversary present from Luke's parents and I am SO PSYCHED. And depressed when I think of how I haven't seen a Broadway show since my Les Mis birthday present . . . when I was 17. We are definitely going to have to start seeing more shows. But I digress.

So. Lion King. Tomorrow. Psyched. And since right now we only have my car (btw, we sold Luke's car a couple of weeks ago - did I mention that? It's been interesting.) and as we all know, Old Reliable she kinda ain't, we're borrowing one of my parents' cars for tomorrow. Because, even though my parents have certainly had their share of car problems lately, their cars are still much less likely to randomly explode on us halfway through Sardine Canyon. And today I went to make the switch.

Coming back was such a PAIN. There must have been half a dozen or more over-sized loads up in front of me or something because I had to practically slam on my brakes just before Beaver Dam and the rest of the trip was spent crawling. LAME!!! It took an hour to get back to Logan . . . and I know for a fact that one can get from my parents' house to the light at Main & 200 North in 25-30 minutes. Not that I've, you know, done that myself . . . or anything . . . anyway . . . HUGE traffic pile-up. I couldn't even see the vehicle at the front of the whole thing causing the slow down. Ever. And there are some spots where you can see for a couple of miles ahead of yourself! It was so bad that some of the roads - you know, where you NEVER see more than one car waiting to get onto the highway - had six or seven cars waiting . . . crazy! And it didn't clear up until the highway became 200 North . . . so obnoxious.

All this, however, is not the bizarre thing. No, that happened just past Beaver Dam. I see this SUV waiting at a stop sign, and the driver's facing away from me. And just as I'm thinking to myself "that's some pretty big hair, even for Utah" the driver turns my direction, and it's not hair, it's a clown wig! And while they appear to be wearing normal clothes, the face is full on clown make-up . . . and a dead ringer for that creepy Unsolved Mysteries ghost that still freaks me out. Good times. I'm not typically the clownaphobic type, but I am seriously still shuddering at that one. What the what? Who drives around dressed up like that?! CREEPY!!!!!!

So I finally get into town and start heading up Main Street for a destination - the awesomeness thereof will soon be known to all - and when I hit 4th North I see this massive wave a motorcycles heading the other direction. Seriously, massive. Like, motorcycles riding down the street three abreast. Now, while the insane density of this wave soon petered out to a slightly more normal seeming amount, the bikes just kept coming. I was still passing bikes when I hit 14th - ten blocks of motorcycles!! And while I had to stop at three red lights, they had the cops out letting them go on through . . . meaning the real equivalent is probably more like 20 blocks. What the what?!?! Who are these Hell's Angels wannabes and what the crap are they doing taking over Logan of all places?! Holy. Freaking. Random.

The bizarre didn't stop there with these guys though. Oh no. There I am between the mall and Charlie's Ice Cream (which is pretty tasty, as we've recently discovered) and I see a biker dude with a passenger dressed like Sean Connery in The Avengers. I kid you not. I saw a dude (or possibly dudette . . . couldn't really tell, you know?). On the back of a motorcycle. Wearing A TEDDY BEAR SUIT. What the WHAT?!?!?! Are you kidding me?! Geesh, every time you think you've seen everything . . . you discover you haven't seen someone ON THE BACK OF A MOTORCYCLE IN A TEDDY BEAR SUIT. Dude, forget how bizarre you look . . . surely they were dying out there. I mean, it may be the end of September (yeah, how's that for crazy?) but it was nice and toasty out today. I don't imagine it was very comfortable.

So yeah. That was all pretty bizarre. I'm a little weirded out. But moving on - that awesome destination I mentioned? Kohl's. And I just have to rave a little bit. I decided to use that $10 off door hanger that they put out back at the beginning of the month. Sadly, I did not find a whole lot of things I liked, and most of what I tried on didn't fit for some reason or another. Blargh. But I did walk out with 3 cute new shirts, 3 awesome pairs of Halloween socks (one pair glows in the dark!!!!!), and two awesome pairs of earrings. The original total? $124.43. However, everything was at least 30% off - and most even more - taking the total down to $73.55. THEN I used to door hanger coupon AND a 15% off coupon they were handing out at the registers. Making my total . . . (*insert drum roll here*) . . . $57.49!! There are no words to describe how much this made my day. Yay for splurges! I also got a 20% off coupon for Maurice's in the mail . . . guess who's going shopping again next week? Yay!!

Things have been going so well lately I keep thinking I should mentally prepare myself for some sort of disaster. Because, seriously, the awesomeness that has been building up and up and up for the last nine months is bound to come crashing down sooner or later, right? Here's hoping it's much later.


P. ost S. cript
A word of advice - forget what's being said and just enjoy the hilarity of how it is being "said." Because this? Just might be my new favorite thing ever. EVER. (note: in case you're unfamiliar with this new musical genre, no words were put into anyone's mouth. They actually said it all, it's just been auto-tuned. Otherwise known as awesome-ified.)

Because The Witch Trials Were Such a Brilliant Move

Have you ever heard that fruitcake joke? The one about how the last fruitcake was made in 1925 and the ones that are passed around these days in December have been passed around every December since then? I'm pretty sure the same holds true for email forwards. They were all written in the early 90s and every so often they get updated with current names and flashier (read: more obnoxious) animations.

Okay, I have to admit that when I first started in on the whole emailing thing I forwarded everything I got - which was a lot, because everybody was forwarding everything because the whole concept was so cool. However, I got my first email address when I was 12. And twelve-year-olds? Not exactly known for their wise judgment, you know? And after a couple of years when I started getting the same forwards I'd forwarded to the same people who were now forwarding that forward to me (have I confused you yet, lol?) . . . well, I realized how lame the whole thing was. And I stopped passing on forwards.

My mom got an email address the same time I did. I got a forward from her today. This is at least the third time I've gotten this one from her. In recent memory. I'm pretty sure she passes on every on she gets. I'm also pretty sure she doesn't actually read them . . . because I want to believe that if she did she'd recognize them and wouldn't keep passing them along like a hundred-year-old fruitcake. So I tell myself she skips to the bottom and if the last sentence is some cutesy, feel-good something about friendship, girl power, love, God, or whatever she just passes it on without looking at the rest of it. And I suppose it makes me a glutton for punishment or something since I still open them . . . although in my defense, you can't always tell what it is until you open it.

I don't know what it is about this one, but I just had to respond to it. I've seen it so many times that I can't let it go anymore. I guess it's the fruitless-ness (or fruitcake-less-ness, heh) and just plain stupidity of pining for times gone by. Annoyance that some people just can't accept that times have changed. Maybe I'm just in a mood to argue with someone. Whatever. Anyway - response written as if I was emailing a reply to my mom, but consider it directed at whoever originally wrote the email. (also - not including the whole thing . . . I'm sure you've all seen it before and can fill in the gaps!)

TO ALL THE KIDS WHO SURVIVED THE

1930s, '40s, '50s, '60s and '70s!!

First, we survived being born to mothers who may have smoked and/or drank while they were pregnant.

They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes.

Yeah, you're okay . . . but I'll bet all the kids born with birth defects attributed to those things wish their moms had known what it was doing to them in utero. Would you want me eating sushi whilst pregnant with your grandchild?

Then, after that trauma, we were put to sleep on our tummies in baby cribs covered with bright colored lead-based paints.

You're right. And while we're at it, let's go back to drinking out of pewter cups like they did in the Middle Ages - because, clearly, most of them must have survived for us to be here! Lead poisoning is just chlorine for the gene pool.

As infants and children, we would ride in cars with no car seats, no booster seats, no seat belts, no air bags, bald tires and sometimes no brakes..

You're right - who cares about safety? We'll just put the kid down on the backseat on the way home from the hospital and drive slowly. Once he learns how to roll over he'll be put on the floor until he can sit by himself.

We drank water from the garden hose and not from a bottle.

Ummmmm . . . I still do that when the opportunity presents itself. Pretty sure that didn't stop in the 70s.

We ate cupcakes, white bread, real butter, and bacon. We drank Kool-Aid made with real white sugar. And we weren't overweight.

WHY?

Because we were always outside playing...that's why!

We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on.

No one was able to reach us all day.

--And, we were OKAY.

Hypothetical situation - there's a registered sex offender living two streets down from us. Do you still want me letting your grandchildren run around the neighborhood without knowing where they are? Now the guy who cruises around the park in the white creeper van - I'm sure he's on the up and up. He just wants to make the kids happy by giving them candy. Why should anyone supervise that?

We would spend hours building

Our go-carts out of scraps

And then ride them down the hill,

Only to find out we forgot the brakes.. After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem..

I'll bet the kids that did end up doing serious damage to themselves learned their lesson too. Of course, their lesson was more along the lines of "you didn't need a fully functioning brain anyway." It goes without saying that the kids who died - however few - must have deserved what they got for not learning the lesson sooner.

If YOU are one of those born

Between 1925-1970, CONGRATULATIONS!

You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow up as kids before the lawyers and the government regulated so much of our lives for our own good.

While you are at it, forward it to your kids, so they will know how brave and lucky their parents were.

Those same kids who's parenting styles have had to be adjusted for a new reality? Those same kids who's parenting methods you've just spent this whole email criticizing? I'm sure they'll appreciate your moral superiority.

What is up with the people who write/forward these things? Hello people . . . TIMES CHANGE!!! Sure, some things were probably better back in the day - but does anybody actually want to go back to the way things were in the 50s? Really? Do people really believe that life used to be this absolute utopia that we just have to get back to? That nothing ever went wrong in the world before the 80s? Call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure life was not all pretty picket fences back in the day. And to be honest I'm kind of sick of people who have nothing but negatives to say about today. You know what? Maybe life is not perfect, but I'm pretty sure that for most people, on a day-to-day basis, life is generally more good than bad. And if someone can't accept the fact that we have cell phones and netflix - but also creepers and drugs - well . . . why don't you just go live in a hole somewhere and play Pong and drink Tang all day? Watch some "Leave It to Beaver" reruns. Let the rest of us make the best lives we can with the way things are today. Living in the past helps absolutely no one.

I feel better now.

P. ost S. cript

I'm still amazed at how short the temple marriage ceremony is when I think about it. I get the feeling this one was a little bit longer. :-)