One whole hand of years

Five years ago today, I was . . .

• realizing I would not, actually, be sleeping, and just gave up
• sending Sam a text asking him how he slept and not getting a response until 9 or so, since he slept great [This after him telling me, quite firmly, that he was in no way going to be able to sleep. Hah.]
• going to get my hair done, little knowing the evil intentions the misty rain had for my curls
• going to the mall to get my makeup done [which sounded like a good idea, but when they were running 1+ hours behind, despite my appointment? yeah, not such a good idea after all]
• meeting Sam at the Oakland temple
• getting sealed to my sweetheart "for time and all eternity"
• getting probably the single shortest talk from a sealer in the history of sealings
• taking pictures outside the temple with a white umbrella, due to the aforementioned drizzle
• being blissfully happy
• driving with my husband to our reception
• getting some impromptu bridals done while Sam went with my dad to pick up the food
• wearing my husband's suit coat and possibly slippers or flip-flops instead of my pretty wedding shoes [which, it must be said, are sadly uncomfortable and ridiculously cute]
• telling people that yes, I actually had gotten married and that the absence of my groom was due to the caterer losing our order and he and my dad (as well as my aunts) having to scavenge around local grocery stores
• putting olives on my fingers [Now really, if someone put jumbo-sized olives in front of you and you loved olives, would you be able to resist? I submit that you would not.]
• driving away with my husband in a car that got sadly graffitied, in the tradition of weddings, despite Sam having parked it so carefully away
• knowing I'd just made the best decision of my life

So, in case you couldn't tell, today is our five-year anniversary [that's a whole hand of years, by the way]. I thought then that I knew what happiness was; I realize now that happiness isn't a static state but a dynamic one, one that increases and intensifies the longer you give it reason to.

Now I'm going to get a little mushy, which is highly uncharacteristic of me [for some reason, the whole PDA stuff just makes me squirm, whether I see it or am the perpetrator], so if that makes you uncomfortable, feel free to stop reading.

Dear Sam,

Thanks for making these past five years the happiest of my life. I love how much I can trust you to always stand beside me and support me, regardless of the metaphorical winds and rains buffeting me and trying to pull me down. Saying yes to you was the best decision I ever made, and if I'd known then how much happiness it would bring me I wouldn't have been at all irritated by the way you led me on the whole day prior to you proposing. ;)

Thanks for being such a wonderful example of Christlike love and service and for always making me want to better myself and prove myself worthy of an eternal relationship with you. You're so much more than everything I ever dreamed up whenever I imagined my eternal companion. Every day I can't believe how lucky I am that you picked me and how blessed I am that Heavenly Father led us to each other.

I love you so much and am so excited about the eternity I have to spend with you. You're the sunshine to my every day, even when it's nasty and snowing outside.

Love for eternity,

Holly

We've been approved for adoption! Check out our incredibly awesome adoption profile at https://itsaboutlove.org/ial/profiles/24950903/ourMessage.jsf.

Holly + Sam + puppy = a very merry Christmas

So, some of you may remember that for Christmas last year, Sam bought me a dog collar as a way of saying he was ready to buy a dog. And, also as some of you may remember, I sort of freaked out when we actually went looking at dogs [some might say I discovered I have commitment issues], and we ended up going home just the two of us.

Well, a month or two ago we started feeling like maybe now we [and by "we" I mean "I"] were ready for a dog now. We started looking at KSL ads and everything, and then I started getting the panicky feeling I got last year. So I told Sam, "If you feel like now is a good time for us to get a dog, you're going to have to get one and surprise me." This is because I can handle the commitment if the commitment's already been made, but to choose the commitment . . . that's much more risky.

Well, it's no longer just the two of us. We've become a family of three! Meet Glorfindel ("Fin" for short--and 20 points to anyone who correctly identifies the origin of his name):

Isn't he absolutely the cutest thing you've ever seen? Sam surprised me with him for Christmas. He was so sneaky about it--I had no idea he'd done it until last night as we were going to bed and we heard whimpering upstairs. Considering our landlady is a firm cat person, I knew the whimpering was for me. Sam tried to ignore it and I tried to pretend not to hear it, but after it'd gone on for a while and gotten progressively louder, he turned to me and said, "Do you want one of your Christmas presents early?"

Fin is such a good little dog already. He's 1/2 golden retriever, 1/2 poodle (meaning he'll get quite big, we think) and is 10 weeks old. We started him potty training right away, and he's already got the idea that when we take him outside, it means it's time to empty his bowels. Also, he's learned what "no" means and learned that shoes always provoke a stern "no," as does chewing on clothes, toes, chair legs, etc. We went to Walgreen's [the only store open today, I think] and got him a tug-of-war rope and a little rabbit that squeaks, and he fell in love with both. Pretty much they're his new best friends.

Speaking of Fin's best friends, Sam's his #1 best friend. If Sam's laying on the floor, Fin will go lay on top of him, practically, every time. He makes a very good little shadow, too. We're watching Star Wars: Return of the Jedi currently, and he's been so funny during it. Despite being dead tired [We wore him out, so hopefully he'll sleep as well tonight as he did last night.], he'll sit straight up every once in a while and just watch the TV with this perplexed look on his face, like he just doesn't know what to make of it and the sounds coming out of it. I wish I had a picture of it. And he's soooo soft. I love to pet and cuddle him, and he loves to be petted and cuddled. We think he'll be a really good dog, especially if we're consistent with him.

So, welcome to the family, Fin! We're so excited to have you. Pretty much all we need now is a baby for you to grow up with. Family of four, anyone?

We've been approved for adoption! Check out our incredibly awesome adoption profile at https://itsaboutlove.org/ial/profiles/24950903/ourMessage.jsf.

Why adoption?

On the Provo Families Supporting Adoption blog this morning was a really good link about the Church's viewpoint on adoption. You can read the article here.

While the adoptive-couple-birth-mother setup was a little cheesy, I thought the actual article was really nice, on the whole. I especially liked how much they brought up that placing for adoption is the most selfless, supreme act of love an unmarried woman can do for her child.

I feel like all over the place people look down on birth mothers for taking the "easy way out" or for "abandoning" their child, when really she's broken her heart to give her baby the best possible life she can give him or her--which just happens to be with other parents. I've met several birth mothers since we joined the adoption community and have sort of blog stalked others, and they're among the strongest, bravest, most loving women I've ever met. Like the article says, placing their baby into the arms of another, forever, is the hardest, most wrenching decision they'll ever have to make. I have so much respect and admiration for them, and I was glad the article brought that up.

So . . . feel free to share the link and spread some adoption and birth mother love. Or at least read the article, since it really is well written and may or may not be misty-eye inducing.

Peace.

We've been approved for adoption! Check out our incredibly awesome adoption profile at https://itsaboutlove.org/ial/profiles/24950903/ourMessage.jsf.

The woes of my life

So, like many who believe that life is not a life if it's not filled with books, I've come to the point where I have too many books for my bookshelf(ves) and no room for another bookshelf, yet somehow my books keep accumulating. As in, I bring in a consistently good haul at birthdays and Christmas.

Sam's sought to rectify this situation today. He commandeered our ex-DVD shelf (the DVDs having long ago moved to a binder thing), which was just being used as general book overflow, display case, etc. Since the shelves aren't very high, he moved most of our paperbacks onto that and has most of our hardbacks on the main bookshelf. [We may or may not have an absurd amount of hardbacks due to me being something of a snob when it comes to paperbacks.]

Here is the finished result: [Note that these are just our fiction books. We have two bookshelves in the back room with random reference books, textbooks, books on CD, boardgames, etc. Just wanted to point that out.]

Apparently we have even more books than I thought we did, because even commandeering the DVD shelf as he did, there's only about half a shelf on the main bookcase that's empty. It doesn't look empty, I know, but the second half of the bottom is actually our current collection of library acquisitions. [We sort of always have a lot of those. "Always" as in always.]

I know the main purpose of his rearrangement was so we wouldn't have random stacks of books around the house. However, the main thing his rearrangements achieved is this thought going 'round and 'round in my head: Look at all that space. I can buy about ten more books and still have a bit of roominess.

So, really, Sam's an enabler. While I thought we had no room for no books, I could restrain myself from buying them myself--I could wait for birthdays and Christmas. Now, though . . . I know I'll be able to hold myself back through Christmas, but what about after?

I am, simply put, in trouble. We'll see where I'm at in February.

We've been approved for adoption! Check out our incredibly awesome adoption profile at https://itsaboutlove.org/ial/profiles/24950903/ourMessage.jsf.

Thanksgiving in Telluride

Growing up in Flagstaff, AZ I never thought that Thanksgiving would be the same anywhere else, but this year my parents invited us four boys and our families to Telluride Colorado for the turkey filled gratitude festivities. It was awesome. Definitely one of my favorite Thanksgivings ever. I got to ski!! It's been over a year! It felt sooo good to fly down the slopes or I guess I should say slope since only one run was really open because it is so early in the season. All the same it was awesome. Here's the map of my second favorite mountain in the world (San Fransisco Peaks will always be first on the list)


Even better than getting to hit the slopes was being able to just chill with my family. It was so good to see them all. We've got two new nephews who are simply the coolest and my niece is growing so fast. I really love being around my three brothers and my two sister's in law as well they just plain good people that are fun to be with. I don't know how I lucked out to get such a great family. I can't forget to mention my parents too. I wouldn't be half of what I am without them. They're always there for me. Holly and I were talking as we drove back to Utah and I think that we've visited Telluride more than we have Flagstaff :) Maybe that's why this place feels like home when we go and visit.



We played games, went ice skating, swam in the pool, and just visited. It seems like my family loves to cook, so all the meals were great and especially the big dinner. We even managed to be serious enough to go around and share what we were all grateful for. Holly and I got to hold our nephews and hang out with everyone. Good times!

Since this is a post about Thanksgiving I'd like to comment on what I'm most grateful for. Aside from God and life in general, I'm most grateful for my beautiful wife. She's perfect for me. Every day she makes me laugh and see how wonderful life is. Everyday she shows me what things are most important. She always encourages me to grow and to be all that I can be. We'll have been married five years in December. I'm so proud to be her husband. She always makes me look good. I love you Holly.

Oh and what's the best part of Thanksgiving, it's just the start of the Christmas season. Snow, gifts, food, carols, trees, friends, family and focusing on Jesus Christ, it really is the most wonderful time of the year. Happy Holidays everyone!

Hair, hair, hair

No, this isn't another post about my new haircut--which, can I just say, is every bit as cute now as it was on the first day? It looks almost as good when I style it as it did when I first got it done. [Shout out to you, Nicole, for giving me such an A+ haircut.]

No, this post is about a website/product my friend [lookin' at you, A-Row] just shared with me that made me laugh so loud Sam had to come over to investigate. [I'm working from home in my PJs under a snuggly blanket, feeling very pleased about not being in a cold office building. Shazam. Thank you, travel plans.]

The website is offering baby toupees. This is for all of you who have bemoaned having bald babies. Pretty confident it's a sure bet (or a homemade knock off of it) if I have a bald baby.

All right, I'll be honest--this is pretty much a sure bet even if my baby has a truckload of hair. Done.

The only difficulty I foresee is trying to choose between "the Donald" and "the Bob." Hmm.

We've been approved for adoption! Check out our incredibly awesome adoption profile at https://itsaboutlove.org/ial/profiles/24950903/ourMessage.jsf.

A vow very happily broken

So before I tell you what I've done to myself, I'm going to tell you about the vow I made.

A bit over three years ago I got my hair cut in a bob, which was my way of celebrating my last big haircut. As I was getting my hair cut, I made myself the promise that I wouldn't get my hair cut short again until I had a baby--as in, in my arms, not just in my womb.

So why the vow? Well, I love having short hair but wanted to try long hair. However, I don't usually last longer than a few months of growing my hair out before I'm done and get it cut. Unless I have a goal. Then I have a vague end date in mind, so the irritable stages of hair growth are manageable. My last goal of this nature was made during my freshman year at BYU when I decided I'd grow my hair out until I got married, expecting it to get very, very long, since I had no intention of getting married before I was 25. Yeah, I got married approximately a year later, maybe not even a year.

So this time I thought, what's a good milestone to use for this next hair growing experience? And then it came to me: a baby! I'd just graduated from BYU, so Sam and I were ready to add #3 to our happy family of two.

This goal was made back in the days when I thought I'd be like all my friends and get pregnant within two months of quitting The Pill. [You'll notice, M.C., I didn't use the term trying to get pregnant, since I know it makes you feel awkward and I'd hate to alienate you. Do you even read my blog? Anyway. There's my shout-out to you.] This meant I'd have approximately a year to grow my hair out, which was more than enough as far as I was concerned.

You might have noticed we don't have a baby and it's more than three years later. This little vow of mine, and how stubborn I can be, is Heavenly Father's idea of a joke. I'm almost positive He's laughing about it.

Anyway.

So I've been very patient about it. I've cut off about three inches total in the last 3+ years, mostly to even out my hair, which was in somewhat awkward layers from the bob. I've been a very good girl.

Then when we applied and were approved for adoption, I decided the vow didn't entirely apply to me anymore, since I would not be growing a baby in my womb. Actually, I decided the vow was pretty much finished, since it was sort of like tempting/taunting Fate as well as somewhat discouraging to me, since it was a reminder of everything I wanted but didn't have.

So . . .

Here's how long my hair was last weekend:

Remember, it's missing a few inches from the whole evening-out business. And don't judge the unevenness of the bangs. That was my attempt to trim them between appointments. Obviously cutting straight lines wasn't a skill I mastered in kindergarten.

I think you know what's coming next.

Yes, this is my hair as of last night. Love!

Isn't it ridiculously cute? Ugh, I'm in love.

The best part was I made up my mind to do this almost right after my last trim (two months ago), but I wanted to make it a surprise for everyone. However, I was a little thrilled about the possibility, so I told my carpool buddy. Give me a break, I'm trapped in the car with her two hours a day three times a week and it was news I was dying to spill. Of course I faltered.

The point is, no one else knew. No, not even Sam. He was pretty shocked. [i.e., he was staring at me all night] But he likes it. And I love it. As I might have mentioned.

And p.s., don't judge the pictures. They were my first attempts at the whole using-a-mirror-and-camera-on-your-phone-to-take-a-picture-of-yourself business everyone seems to be doing nowadays. Also, notice the faces. These come from my incapacity to smile normally for most pictures, especially ones I take of myself.

So now I don't look 12 anymore, right? I look like an honest-to-goodness adult. Right? Right?

[If you don't think so, just lie. I'm tired of being mistaken for a middle/high schooler.]

And p.s., feel free to tell me how much you love my hair and how cute I look. Thanks.

xoxo

We've been approved for adoption! Check out our incredibly awesome adoption profile at https://itsaboutlove.org/ial/profiles/24950903/ourMessage.jsf.

Cold, darkness, and other things I'm not a fan of

It's getting to be that time of year when I wish I had a little space heater under my desk at work. And when I seriously consider packing my large at-home space heater in the car every day and trucking it to work so I don't have to wear two sweaters.

However, when I woke up this morning my iPhone told me it was 50 degrees outside, when the high for the day was 49 degrees, meaning there was no ice to scrape off my car, so I guess I can't really complain.

In other news, how about that daylight savings time or whatever we went through yesterday? I was looking forward to having a little bit of sunlight at some point of my drive to work this morning, but was there any?

No. Not even a hint over the mountains.

Now I put forth this truly perplexing question to you: Of what use is daylight savings time (or un-daylight savings time or whatever the heck we're in now) if it can't afford a poor girl a little sunlight before she has to slink into her office? I ask you.

But really, does anyone know what the use of daylight savings time and its counterpart is? Besides ruining my life? And why they changed it so the switch happens at random times of year nowadays instead of the nice, predictable April and October pattern we enjoyed for so long?

The things that keep me up at night.

Okay, not really. But it is a question I've pondered before.

Here's another question I've pondered before, many, many times: Why in the world did I stay up so late last night when I knew I'd be getting up at 5:30?!

It's a tired day. But at least it's raining, not snowing.

We've been approved for adoption! Check out our incredibly awesome adoption profile at https://itsaboutlove.org/ial/profiles/24950903/ourMessage.jsf.

Confession . . . possibilty a guilty one

So when Sam and I got home from our adoption training meeting Thursday night, we may or may not have left the door open longer than necessary and allowed a fly to get in.

Well, it taunted me all day yesterday while I was working from home. It would land on my computer screen (like it knew I didn't want bug guts on my screen) or fly around my head and land on my hair, always moving too fast for me.

Here is my confession: I think I just killed it.

Most of you are likely applauding me. I applaud myself. However, I slammed a stack of papers against its body just over where Sam has his sleeping bag laying out (he went camping with his brother last weekend and is airing out his stuff), and its body disappeared. It wasn't a gooey mass on the papers, and I haven't seen it buzzing around since, and I don't see its body anywhere.

My fear is that it's lost in the folds of Sam's sleeping bag, and the next time he goes camping he'll find it resting alongside him.

Eek.

Just don't tell him, K? What he doesn't know can't hurt him . . .

Did someone say birthday?

No? No one said birthday? Well, I just did.

That's right, it's that birthday time of the year. As in, mine and Sam's. Within 13 days of each other. Heck yes.

Mine came first, and Sam made it very special for me [as usual]. I've made a collage so you can appreciate the hard work he put forth for me.

This was all a surprise for me when I got home from work. Well, except for the party hat on the car headrest--that was a surprise for me when I got in the car to go to work. Both the driver's and passenger's sides got a hat. It was a party in the car. [Yes, I actually worked on my birthday. What's wrong with me? Don't I know what a vacation is?] He wasn't home when I got home, so he missed my reaction, but I'm sure his imagination is tuned enough that he pictured it fairly well.

As you can see, he taped balloons to our front door, got me a "happy birthday" sign, gave our stuffed animals party hats so they could join the fun, arranged my gifts on the table very prettily, bought me flowers [white daisies--my absolute favorite], and even gave one of the birthday balloons a hat. He also packed a birthday hat in my lunch, too, as a surprise. I taped it to my cabinet/shelf/thing above my desk of my cubicle so everyone passing by at work would know it was my birthday.

Don't I have the sweetest husband in the world? He made me feel so special.

Oh, and he made me goulash! It's a recipe from his mom and is basically pasta with a tomato kind of sauce [I've never actually made it, so my understanding of what goes into it is a little vague], and it's possibly one of my favorite meals ever. Not only did he make goulash, however. Check out the pasta:

It's a little hard to see [getting that picture was nigh on impossible what with the glare and lighting], but yes, I got to eat replicas of Mickey's head and hands for my birthday. Shazam. [My mom sent us this pasta from their Disneyland trip in June, in case you're wondering. We don't store it or buy it in bulk or anything, though that would be amazing.] Talk about a thrilling dinner.

So it was really fun. The following gift was "from" our landlady's cat [he's a Siamese]:

I realize it's sideways, but I couldn't figure out how to flip it in Picasa. Don't be a hater.

It says, "Holly, Happy Birthday. Love, Buzz." Isn't our landlady the cutest? We love her.

So that's Holly's Birthday 2010. Now for Sam's. He didn't feel the need to photo document everything, so this part will be relatively short.

Since Sam's always doing super sweet things for me because he loves to, I thought I'd try to return the favor this birthday. Please note that everything that follows is extremely out of character for me and that I'm not cool enough to do this kind of stuff all the time. K, glad we got that settled.

I got home from work [again, working on a birthday--for shame], and gave Sam the first clue for a scavenger hunt I made for him. The scavenger hunt/clue/puzzle was a poem set approximately to the meter of "'Twas the Night Before Christmas." I'm not posting the poem here because I sort of can't write poetry, even pretend poetry, to save my life. Besides, it would embarrass me like nobody's business. You'll just have to content yourself with imagining it. Basically, each stanza led us somewhere new--to the theater to pick up play tickets I'd reserved for the next night, to pick up pizza to bring home for dinner, to get an ice cream cake from Baskin Robbins, etc.--until we got home with the loot and settled down for pizza, root beer, and a movie. It was a lot of fun. :)

That was Sam's Birthday 2010 Day 1.

Day 2 involved going to the play Tuesdays With Morrie, which was ridiculously good. Day 3 involved going over to our cousins', where I snuck in the DVD Prince of Persia [which we saw at the dollar theater and which Sam loved and which oh-so-conveniently came out before Sam's birthday] and gave it to Sam. He was so, so surprised. What's really funny is just that morning we'd been in the grocery store and we'd seen a display of the DVD and he said, "Man, I'd love that movie!" I said, rather convincingly innocent, "Do you want to get it?" He looked at it wistfully then said, "No, we ought to just leave it on our Christmas wish lists." Mwahaha. Shazam, if you will. He totally didn't see it coming. 

And that's the basic rundown of birthdays, Sam and Holly style. We rocked it this year. Welcome, ages 27 and 24, respectively. It's going to be a good year.

We've been approved for adoption! Check out our incredibly awesome adoption profile at https://itsaboutlove.org/ial/profiles/24950903/ourMessage.jsf.

Accomplishment

After many failed attempts, I have finally managed to make a button linking to our adoption profile. [This was made possible by a very helpful tutorial at Oikology 101.]

Please take a minute to look at my beautiful button, test it, and tell me how awesome it looks and how wonderful it is. As you can see, it's past 12:30am here, so I'm using my sleep for this, meaning your praise should be on the gushing side.

Also, I included the HTML for our button in case you happen to want to add it to your blog so everyone can see it. The best way to get the word out about adoption is, after all, to get the word out all over the place. [We wouldn't cry, either, if you happened to mention us directly in a blog post, too, with links to our blog and/or our profile. Just sayin'.] Yes, this is me rather shamelessly asking you to promote us and our awesomeness. Please, please, please? If you don't mind.

You guys are all awesome and I love you. And . . . I'm going to bed. Coworkers: Don't judge if I'm a little slow on the uptake tomorrow, K? Or is it today? Hmm . . .

November ruminations

Apparently it's November already. I'm sort of wondering what happened to October.

Time slipping by aside, November is a very exciting month for me. Why is that?

Well, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part I comes out in theaters!

I'm sort of excited about it. And by "sort of" I mean "I already have our tickets for the midnight showing and am restraining myself from making a pull-down calendar of how many more days/hours/minutes I have to wait and/or from trying on my homemade costume every day from now until the 18th."

To settle my nerves and increase my excitement (and, possibly, yours), here is a picture of the last time I was this excited about Harry Potter.

This is from the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows release party in 2007, when we were in Troy, Alabama, all summer for an internship. You can tell by the slightly crazed look in my eyes that the handing-out-the-books time was drawing near.

In other news, November is national adoption month, apparently. So spread the word about adoption. And, you know, if you happen to know anyone considering placing their baby for adoption, Sam and I wouldn't mind you recommending us as the incredibly cool individuals that we are.

We've been approved for adoption! Check out our incredibly awesome adoption profile at https://itsaboutlove.org/ial/profiles/24950903/ourMessage.jsf.

Elevators, BOO-ing, and Awesomeness

Talk about an eventful morning.

So the elevators at my work may or may not be the slowest moving elevators seen on the planet since the '20s (ever seen Thoroughly Modern Millie? Slow like that). There is one in particular which, every morning, just has the doors open so no one can use it.

I think you can see where I'm heading with this.

This morning when Heather and I called the elevator, that happened to be the elevator that opened for us. We had some misgivings, due to it usually being inaccessible in the mornings, but we got in anyway. The doors closed, and that was the end of that.

We pushed the button for 8. Nothing happened. I swiped my key card to see if that would help, even though the button had lit up when I pushed it. Still no movement. We tried 7. Then 6. Then "Doors Open."

Nothing.

That's right--we were locked in the elevator.

Heather reenacting our apprehension/slight hysteria.

We pushed all kinds of buttons to try to get out--all the floors, "Doors Open, "Doors Close"--and still nothing. After approximately five minutes, we were desperate enough to open the little door at the bottom of the elevator and push the "Call" button.

Note: This is a reenactment. During the event we were too worried about getting out alive to take pictures.

I pushed the dreaded button. [p.s., It was really nasty in the box. Possibly years of dust bunnies there. Not even kidding.] There was ringing. Then an operator picked up. Here's an approximation of the call through the speaker hidden in the door:

Operator: Hi, how can I help you?

Me: Yeah, we're locked in an elevator.

Operator: *slight pause* You're locked in the elevator?

Me: Yes. We got in, the doors closed, and it hasn't moved no matter what buttons we push and the doors won't open.

Operator: *longer pause--obviously this is something she's never heard before* Well, okay. Try holding down the "Open Doors" button for ten seconds.

I do so.

Operator: *after about twenty seconds* Anything?

Me: Nothing.

Operator: Okay. Let me verify your address. Are you at [rattles off my building and its address]?

Me: Yep.

Operator: Okay. I'll let your maintenance people know. In the meantime, I want you to push the "Emergency" button every two to three minutes until you're out. [Note: This was one of the buttons we had not yet pushed. We hadn't quite dared. Who knew if the building would go into lockdown?] Do you need anything else?

Me: Nope, I think that's all.

Operator: Well, good luck!

By happenstance, Heather pushed the "Open Doors" button again a few minutes later and the doors magically opened. We got out of there like nobody's business and finally made it up to work. About halfway up to the eighth floor it occurred to us that we ought to have left a note of some kind for the maintenance guys, but no way we were going all the way back to the parking level and facing our nemesis. Hopefully the techs figured it out.

Random, huh? I thought that kind of thing only happened in movies and books.

What's really random is just yesterday Heather and I were discussing what to do should your elevator go crazy and drop all Tower of Terror style, and I mentioned getting stuck in an elevator at one of my old jobs several years ago (i.e., approximately four), but only for about thirty seconds and in the middle of a ride, not the beginning. So I totally jinxed us. Good thing I don't have our deaths riding on my shoulders.

Now for the BOO-ing.

Yesterday morning, I came in to find this treasure on my desk:

I got BOO-ed! [Have you ever done this? It usually goes around neighborhoods and is really fun.] Talk about exciting. Heather, it just so happens, also got BOO-ed yesterday. This means we spent our break yesterday morning at Smith's, which happens to be just around the corner, buying candy.

This morning was our day of BOO-ing. We were a little behind schedule, due to our elevator fiasco, but it worked out. As it happens, Heather and I seemed to be the last people in our department to get BOO-ed, so we decided to spread the love to IT.

You may recall me mentioning the raptor awareness of the Help Desk team. In lieu of that, I used one of my sheets to BOO them, crossed out "BOO-ed," and put "raptor attacked." My dearest hope is that their little chart of days will say "0" when I walk by next. This little joke totally made my day. I'm still chuckling about it. Man, sometimes I'm so funny I just can't stand it.

Now, for the last order of business: awesomeness. In particular, mine.

If you've spent any amount of time with me, you have likely heard me utter the phrase "made of awesome," usually in reference to myself or someone else I'm giving an A+ in awesomeness to at the moment.

In case any of you haters doubted me being made, in fact, of awesome, here is proof on Wikipedia:

Sorry about the cross-outs--it has to do with us trying to be private about who, exactly, we are when it comes to strangers. Lame, I know.

As you know, if it's on Wikipedia, it's the dead truth, so obviously I am, in fact, made of awesome. And it's an incontrovertible fact.

[Heather, my carpool/elevator fiasco/BOO-ing buddy, was kind enough to make this Wikipedia entry for me and take a screen shot of it within the forty seconds or so before Wikipedia shot it down as spam. She is, to continue the theme, made of awesome herself.]

We've been approved for adoption! Check out our incredibly awesome adoption profile at https://itsaboutlove.org/ial/profiles/24950903/ourMessage.jsf.

Velociraptors and You

As I'm sure you're all aware, September is Velociraptor Awareness Month. For obvious reasons, it's important to be on the alert when it comes to these dangerous creatures we share our world with. Thankfully, the American Society for Velociraptor Attack Prevention has a very handy website you can use to ensure you are safe and protected.

My IT department is similarly aware of the threat posed by the velociraptors among us and has taken precautions.

As you can see, our IT department has obviously had a problem with velociraptor attacks recently. I feel good about it having been nearly a week since the last incident. Things seem to be looking up.

The comics may or may not have been added by my carpool buddy, Heather. Here are closeups so you can enjoy them as much as everyone who walks by on their way to the break room. As you can see from the picture I took, someone apparently thought they were of great worth and added pushpins to ensure their survival on the velociraptor shrine.

May you never let a velociraptor take you by surprise.

The end.

The sitch, if you will

[heehee, when I first wrote the title it said "stitch," which did not reflect the Kim Possible reference I was trying to make. Silly me.]

So, it's possible we have news. Big news. Huge news.

All right, it's not just possible--it's a fact. That's right, throw on the emphasis, it's a big FACT.

Now you're squirming with curiosity. Or maybe you're just hoping I'll stop being so lame and get to the point.

The point, my friends, is . . .

Sam and I just got approved for adoption!! [Notice the double exclamation points. This practically never happens, so you can put it down as proof of my extreme excitement.]

We're adopting through LDS Family Services, we just got approved on Wednesday/Thursday, and our profile is up and running. So go check it out!

It's late, so I'm not going to post more tonight. If you're lucky, you'll get more on Monday. If you're very, very lucky, that is.

XOXO

Tragedy

Disclaimer: You may have noticed that I have a slight weakness when it comes to posting things of an editorial nature [i.e., I can't stop myself]. This is one of those times.

Now, I know this news is going to come as a shock to you, but I can't think of a way to cushion the metaphorical blow, so here you go: The English language is dead. You can read its obituary here.

To think that I dedicated my college career to the study of the English language for it to meet such an untimely end. Talk about a waste of time and resources.

Let's grieve, friends. [And by grieve, I mean let's have a nice little chuckle at Gene Weingarten's snarky joke.] You are now reading a tombstoned, obituaried language. Moment of silence, please.

RIP, English.

That's Right, We're Even More Made of Awesome Now

So, has the thought ever crossed your mind, "Gee, what if I pass out and stop breathing and have no pulse one day? I sure wish I knew someone who's a pro at CPR who could save my life (while instructing someone to call an ambulance who will be the ones to actually save your life)"?

Well guys, worry about that no longer. That's right, Sam and I are officially CPR certified (for a year) as of this morning. So if you ever find yourself in the uncomfortable position of being unconscious, not breathing, and without a heartbeat, give us a call and we'll come to the rescue.

[That was a joke, in case you missed it. Feel free to laugh now if you missed your first cue.]

YA Fantasy Showdow

So I saw a link to this on one of the book review sites I read, and I thought it was hilarious. The YA Fantasy Showdown.

Basically what it is is a list of characters from young adult fiction. They are paired against each other in a fight. The website people write a scenario of how they think the fight would go down. Then you can vote on who you think would win. Then the winners from the first round are paired against each other, and so on.

It's the last round, and Wizard Howl (a.k.a., Howell Jenkins, Wizard Jenkins, Wizard Pendragon, one of my favorite characters ever) from Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones is against Eugenides from the Queen's Thief series by Megan Whalen Turner. The scenario is pretty funny. I've never read the Queen's Thief series but I have read the Howl books, so it probably could have been funnier, but it was still good.

Hands down, my favorite was the Hermione Granger (from the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling) vs. Christopher Chant (from the Chrestomanci series by Diana Wynne Jones) fight. The scenario is hilarious (possibly because I'm a huge fan of the Chrestomanci books).

And looking through the list made me feel really good about myself, because I'm buddies with a lot of the characters on the list from reading their books. It makes me feel like I can honestly say I'm a YA fantasy/fiction author, because I'm familiar with the field. Huzzah.

New

So, I just redid our blog design, and since it took me a while, I'd appreciate it if you all took a second to examine my handiwork and told me how nice it looks. It would make me feel very gratified, even if you're lying.

But why, you might wonder, did I bother spending so much time making our blog look beautiful, since we only update once a month, if that? Well, my friends, you'll find out soon enough. And we'll be updating more than once a month. For the same undisclosed reason. And maybe I'll even get in the habit of updating relatively frequently and you'll actually know what the heck we're up to. Miracles can happen, right?

XOXO,

Holly (or, as I've taken to calling myself whenever I want a giggle, H-Kizzle)

My Super Fun Adventure

One of the funnest things about our Honda CR-V is that the gas gauge lies [and p.s., isn't gauge the weirdest word ever? It totally isn't spelled the way it's pronounced]. Basically, when the little needle thing points to a quarter tank, that means it's empty. Once upon a time the fuel light would turn on when things got dangerous, but about a year ago it rebelled, meaning we now have to play the safe-so-we're-not-sorry game with our car and gas stations.

[I know--talk about heavy foreshadowing for disaster right there.]

Many times in the past [and by many I mean maybe twice], Sam has felt the need to push the needle to the limit, so to speak, and has ended up parked on the side of the road and walking to the nearest gas station. For quite some time, we had a handy little gas container thing in the trunk for just such occasions.

Well, last night was my turn.

I'm part of a writers group that meets every Thursday [except when we don't, like when no one's submitted anything], and when I was just about there last night I noticed that the gas gauge was at the precarious "1/4 tank" position. [This is more foreshadowing right here, in case you missed it.]

I thought, "No problem. I'll get gas on my way home."

So I went to my group and had a wonderful time, all the while being blissfully unaware of the tragedy about to befall me. We were only meeting in Orem, so I thought, "I should have enough gas to get to the station by my house. No problem. I don't need to go to the gas station so conveniently located right around the corner from my friend's house, where we're meeting. I'll be fine."

In case you haven't guessed it, I was not, in fact, fine.

I was driving on 2200 N, just before it became 900 E, when the CR-V lurched the first time. And I thought, "Oh no. I still have 7 or 8 minutes of driving time. No way I'm making it home." But then I thought, "There's sort of a gas station around here. I can probably make it there."

Not so much.

I made it to the MTC, then decided the car would go no further. And if it did, I'd be on a road with no emergency shoulder thing to pull on to when it decided it would go no further, and I didn't think anyone would appreciate my car being stopped in the middle of traffic. And I did not want to get out and push.

And let me tell you, the MTC parking lot? Totally the most awkward place in the world to be stranded without gas. I felt like everyone who looked at me as I was sitting in my car, trying to call Sam, thought I was there to try and corrupt the innocent missionaries who were just trying to train to do the Lord's work. But still, that was better than being stopped in the middle of a road.

So once I made it safely to a 30-minute parking spot, I tried calling Sam. Why didn't I just get out and walk? 1) The gas container was no longer in the trunk, so I would have had to get a new one. 2) I wasn't entirely sure of where the nearest gas station was. 3) Even if I'd had the gas can and known where the nearest station was, I didn't have any idea of what to do when I got there. 4) The flip-flops I was wearing would have given me a very uncomfortable feeling on the way there and definite, probably huge, blisters on the way back.

So, really, calling Sam seemed to be my best option. Only he didn't pick up the phone. By the time I ended the fourth call--all the while thinking of the supposed usefulness of cell phones--I determined that he was sitting outside, which he's been known to do when the weather is nice, and had left his phone inside. In desperation I called our landlady, who lives above us, but she wasn't home. And then, in utter desperation, I called our next-door neighbor.

Thankfully, she was home. And by "she" I mean one of my former Beehives (though, technically, she was never my Beehive, as she turned 14 before I was called, but I still consider her one of my girls) who happens to be my next-door neighbor. This is approximately how our conversation went:

Me: Hi. It's Holly.
Her: *surprised* Hi.
Me: So . . . can you go outside and look to see if Sam's there? I've been trying to call him, but I don't think he has his phone with him.
Her: *slight pause as she processes my statement and totally random request* Oh. Sure. Hold on. Yeah, here's there.
Me: *sighing in relief* Good. Can you ask him to call me?
Her: Sure.
Me: Thanks. You just saved my life.

The rest of the story isn't that interesting. Sam called me back and then got to be my hero and come to my rescue with a full gas can, and I made it home finally--after stopping at the closest gas station [which, p.s., was not where I thought it was at all] and filling up. And that, folks, was the end of my super fun and exciting adventure.

Though, to compensate for my traumatic experience [Does anyone else ever have problems with that word? Traumatic? I never spell it right the first time--that and tragedy. They ruin my life.], I watched the first two episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer from Netflix on my TV via my Wii [which is a whole other kind of exciting that I won't go into here--watching things on my TV from Netflix via my Wii, I mean]. So I guess that was the real end of my adventure.

So now you know--Sam's not the only one in the family who's gotten stranded somewhere with an empty gas tank. I'll just hang my head in shame right now. I deserve to be shunned.