It was a sad, sad day

Did you feel a little sad last Tuesday? You know, the 16th of February?

I did.

But I wasn't sure why.

At first, I thought it was because I had just had three days in a row away from work. But, I wasn't particularly annoyed at work.

Then, I thought it was because I had forgotten to pick something up the night before at Costco. Nothing is as sad as knowing you were JUST at Costco, but didn't get everything on your list. But then I remembered how much Darrell and I love going to Costco, so it would be the perfect excuse to go back soon.

So, after much thought, I couldn't explain why I was in a funk.

Until I read this:

Ronald Howes, a lifelong inventor responsible for creating the Easy-Bake Oven (as well as defense weaponry), died last Tuesday.

It's true folks. One of the true heroes of our day has passed away. And it was last Tuesday, on why-am-I-feeling-a-little-out-of-sorts day.

Let me tell you a little about why this man will always be a hero to me:

As a little girl, I always wanted an Easy-Bake Oven. Every Christmas, when the big, seven-inch thick Sears catalog showed up, you were guaranteed to find the page with the Easy-Bake Oven was going to be dog-eared. I HAD to get myself an Easy-Bake Oven! It was similar to Ralphie's obsession with the "Red Ryder carbine-action, two hundred shot Range Model air rifle with a compass in the stock and a thing which tells time" in The Christmas Story. Only, no one ever told me that I would shoot my eye out.

I was fascinated that you could bake a whole cake with nothing more than a light bulb! Clearly there was magic involved!

But I didn't get an Easy-Bake Oven when I was eight, or nine, or even twelve. No! I had to wait until I was--are you ready for this?--thirty! Yes, I was a full-on adult. I was even older than my mom had been when I first asked for one. (OK, as a side-bar, that makes me feel really old!).

Now let me tell you how I came to get my Easy-Bake Oven. At Thirty.

My mom had spent the better part of her life hearing about my desire for an Easy-bake Oven or how that was the only toy I ever wanted, but it eluded me. So, the day after Thanksgiving--yes, BLACK Friday--before the economy melted down and people spent money they didn't even have, my mom (who only spent a part of the money she had, and never spent money she didn't have), braved the crazies at WalMart. Yes, the devil store itself. On the devil's shopping day. To buy nothing more than an Easy-Bake Oven for her 30 (THIRTY) year old daughter. Who, by the way, was earning enough money to buy one herself.

A couple of days later, I called my mom to tell her of my good fortune! My co-workers had felt so bad that I had never had an Easy-Bake Oven, so they bought me one as an early Christmas present.

Okay, so there are a couple of issues here:

First, a thirty year-old woman is telling her co-workers how horrible her life has been since she never had an Easy-Bake Oven.

Second, they feel bad enough for her that they purchase her the said toy.

Third, her mother had endured WalMart, the day after Thanksgiving, at-did I mention it?-FIVE in the MORNING, so that she could give her daughter the funnest Christmas present. EV.ER.

Fourth, it was spoiled by the daughter's ridiculous pre-occupation with this TOY!

So yeah. I could have TOTALLY had TWO Easy-Bake Ovens and been the luckiest girl in the world!

A couple of days after I got my Easy-Bake Oven, I made an adult-sized cake mix (and, as a thirty year-old, I was allowed to use the electric hand-mixer) and took it, along with my Easy-Bake Oven to work.

We made cakes all day long.

It was the birthday of one of my co-workers. She got a four layer cake.

Come to think of it, I think it may be time to dust off the ol' Easy-Bake Oven and make me a treat!

RIP Ronald Howes, RIP!

I heart love

Here is my latest creation.



I won't take credit for the idea, but I did do it all by myself and I finished before the holiday.



Extra points for hanging it up.



I wish the photos were better, but I was having severe technical difficulties with all three of our digital cameras!

This is for Ginger...

I don't mean to judge, but....

Wow! Anytime that is the preface to your words, just know that you REALLY do mean to judge.

I didn't realize just how hypocritical that sounded until I watched Oprah tonight.

Her guest was Ted Haggard's wife, Gayle. You know. The former mega-church pastor that admitted to affairs with male prostitutes and meth-use. His wife stayed with him. She wrote a book and was on Oprah.

This is the introduction she got (I tried to write it down verbatim--sorry if it's not quite right):

O: I decided I would approach this interview with no judgment...
We come from two different cultures.
I am a woman who has always taken care of myself.
I have always been independent.
I've always made my own decisions.
So, it's UNIMAGINABLE to me to be in a situation where somebody is going to betray me and I would stay.
But I get, reading, that you did.
How you coming from where you come from were able to do it.
And that was my epiphany.

Really? That is with no judgment? I wonder what it would sound like if you judged?

Here is Gayle's response. (Which, by the way, displays the grace this woman has, that Oprah could only dream of!):

I'm glad that you had that.

I'm glad that you don't want to judge me.

(To which Oprah said, "I don't." HA!)

Because I think I would say:
I'm an independent woman.
I'm a strong woman.
And I take care of myself.

And these were my choices.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Further proof that Oprah suffers from a serious God-complex.

I am going to try harder to not use phrases such as, "I don't mean to judge" and "If I were you" and "Not that it's any of my business" or really any phrase that ends in a "but."

I guess Oprah isn't totally useless.

One of my worst dates. Ever.

Remember back in your single days?
When you would be excited to go on a date with a boy?
Who asked you out at least four days before the event, so it wasn't like, "OH crap! I don't have anything better to do, so I might as well call Stephanie, who doesn't have anything better to do either."

Yeah. Me neither.

Ok. So I do remember the days when I was single and excited to go out. But I usually was the "OH crap" date.

I have had my fair share of particularly bad dates and thought perhaps I could post one today and then another in awhile.

So here is bad date number one (not the worst bad date, just the first one that I will share):

Rewind to 1991...I lived in Tucson, with my parents. My parents live on the far Eastside of Tucson. I was sort of attending the local community college. But I was really attending the LDS Institute on the University of Arizona campus. (As an aside, a few people were shocked to learn that I didn't actually attend UA, since I spent hours on the campus. Just more of an institutey.).

The UA campus is about 12 miles West of my parents' home. Which isn't too far for Phoenix standards. But for Tucson standards, I might as well have lived in Alabama.

A guy, I'll call "Dale," asked me out on Wednesday-ish for a Friday night double date. I accepted. I didn't know him very well, but he didn't seem too bad.

Since he was a poor student, living near campus, I offered to meet him somewhere. He insisted on picking me up, since, in his words, he was a "gentleman."

He was supposed to pick me up at 6 for a movie and dinner and then we were going to go to the Institute dance. (Remember, it's the early 90s and going to a dance was actually fun in those days.).

Well, at 7:30, he finally showed up at my house. He hadn't called to say he was late.

I know. I should have just left, but this was back in the days when people could (and DID) walk over me with ease.

The first words out of his mouth were not anything like, "I'm so sorry I'm late," or "You look really great." No....he said, "Wow! You do live far!" (It makes me wonder what a non-gentleman would say.).

DUH!

We get in his car, and he explains that he's sorry it's so wet, but the floorboard has a hole in it. Yeah....he has a total Flintstones car. The floor where the driver's feet go is missing. But he had bolted a skateboard to the floor so his feet wouldn't drag the ground. And it was wet because Tucson was experiencing a serious winter rainstorm.

Not only was the floor wet, but the windows fogged up so badly, we could barely see out. The other guy's date, who was a particularly optimistic person, looked quite concerned. She told me they had already run a couple of red lights since the vision out the windshield was so limited.

We, fortunately, made it to the theater safely and watched Edward Scissorhands. I have always thought the movie was a little strange. I wonder if it would seem less strange if associated with other company.

After the movie (keep in mind--it's got to be close to 10 pm at this point), we were driving toward the campus, looking for a place to eat. Dale noticed 7-11 was offering 2-4-1 hot dogs. I was most certainly NOT eating a hot dog, much less two, so I scanned the options nearby and said, pointing, "Look! There's Burger King! My favorite restaurant!"

That is a quote.

It, however, was not my favorite restaurant. It was just the only option.

So, Dale cut across three lanes of traffic and skid into the parking lot.

We ordered. The other couple ordered.

While we waited for our food, we played some game the other guy brought along. He did that kind of thing frequently. Carried games with him.

When we got our food, Dale reminded us that we needed to bless our food.

He offered. I would say it was a prayer, but it was more of a stand-up comic act that wasn't funny. I was quite embarassed. He wasn't. So he continued to "amuse" God. I'm surprised one of us didn't get food poisoning for it.

We got to the Institute dance. I bolted. I had to find someone, anyone, to dance with to end my misery. I ignored him pretty much the rest of the evening and found a ride home.

Less than a year later, a friend married him. I was the reception sign-in girl. And oh-so-glad I wasn't Mrs. Dale!

So, my friend, Jamie Post Melin (I can type your whole name, too. Even if it's only half as long as mine!) also posted a bad date.

2009 in Photo

So, I thought I'd do a quick re-cap of 2009 in photos. I've seen quite a few other bloggers do this and thought, "Hey, I can SO do that!" Here goes:

January:




Made some crazy New Year's Resolutions. Kept none of them. Especially the "Don't talk poorly of others." Fifteen seconds later, I thought, "That missionary looks just like Alfred E Newman!" Even though it was to myself, I broke my resolution before I could even write it down. Plus, it was during the Sacrament.

February:



Got in touch with my creative side. Made a "rag-wreath." Bought enough fabric to make a cute matching garland. The fabric is still in a bag on my bedroom floor. Maybe this year.

March:







I discovered Picnik. This is both a blessing and a curse. I can spend hours editing the photos of my child hood. If I allowed myself to be photographed now, I would perhaps spend hours editing those also. I'm pretty vain that way.

April:



New calling at church. The four and five year old teacher in Primary. On Easter Sunday, one of the little girls said, in all sincerity while praying, "We are thankful for Easter. Even though my Christmas dress was prettier than my Easter dress." (I told you I am addicted to Picnik!).

May:



Visited Flagstaff for Memorial Day weekend. Froze to death, I'm sure! Came back with a car-load of stuff. Darrell's dad keeps giving us stuff. We told him we don't have room. He offered to build shelves floor-to-ceiling on all the walls in our house. We declined.

June:



My birthday. I won't tell you which birthday it was. Only that the next will make me a whole decade older. Thirty is kinda scary sounding, right? (Surely there is a twelve-step program for Picnik-aholics!).

July:



I visited my wonderfully hysterical niece in Colorado. We had so much fun. She is an only child and pretends her brother and sister live in the purple mountains. She rode her bike around the block. We followed a junior high aged girl. She called her her sister. We celebrated her birthday 3 of the 4 days I was there. She was quite confused. But loved every minute of it.

August:



I went to the dentist. And had a cavity. It's a pretty traumatic experience for me. I didn't have one until I was 37. I'm sort of a wimp when it comes to the drill.

September:



Drove to St. George with Lucinda and Christopher. Lucinda attended her Aunt's funeral. I hung out with my Grandmama. We slept in (thank goodness she is a night owl, too!), went out for dinner, shopped, watched TV, played, and just had fun together. I cried like a baby when I left.

October:





Time out for Women with my mom and my girls. Darrell's birthday. He's younger than me. Does that make me a cougar? Our fifth wedding anniversary. Some days it seems like it's been a lot longer than 5 years (in a good way) and some days it seems like we just got married. General Conference. I DVR it so I can watch the parts I miss when I fall asleep. Busy month, that October!

November:



Darrell's dad came down from Flagstaff for Thanksgiving. We worked for about seventeen hours to make dinner and ate it in about twenty-six minutes. I ate the entire pumpkin pie by myself. Over the course of a week.

December:



Girls' Night Out Christmas party at Jonae's--the hostess with the mostest! Decorating for Christmas. Skipping out on the ward Christmas party. I don't see a time when that will be something I look forward to attending. Darrell's dad coming down for Christmas. Fortunately this time, he took half of the chocolate cake home with him. Visiting my parents and Julie in Tucson. Getting some really great gifts. Giving some (hopefully) equally great gifts.

Hope your 2009 was as great as mine seems to have been.

Here's to a wonderful 2010!

Random facts....Sunday night edition

So, it's been awhile since I posted and I want to post something new.

I just don't know what. So I decided to just write some random facts that you may or may not know about me.

I'm the first-born grandchild on my mom's side. I cry everytime I talk to or really even about my Grandmama. She's the feistiest 84-year old you will ever meet.

I was going to say that I have never lived East of the Mississippi River (in the US), but then remembered I lived in Illinois for three months, while on my mission. And that totally counts.

When I was little, I cried if the mixed vegetables didn't have lima beans. My sister cried if they did have lima beans. When my sister had an overnight stay in the hospital, I asked if we could have lima beans for dinner.

I always think of the perfect item to put on my Christmas wish list the day after Christmas. But since I never know where I put my lists, I don't remember until the day after the next Christmas what I wanted.

I curled my hair a little different today for church. Not so different I haven't done it like this before, but different than I have been doing it recently. One of the kids in my class was so freaked out, she kept remarking that I looked totally different. In fact, she said, "I almost don't even know who you are!" I guess I haven't looked too great recently at church!

A few years ago, I bought a 7-foot Christmas tree at Costco. It was beautiful. I took it out to my car and it would not fit. No matter what I did, it wouldn't go in my car. So I returned it. When I went back with Darrell and his friend in a bigger car, Costco was out of Christmas trees. So we bought a bookcase instead. Once assembled, I realized the only way it will fit out of the bedroom it's in, is through the window. I think I have a problem with space assessment.

One day, while driving my parents' 1981 Chevrolet Citation, the muffler fell off in the middle of the street. I didn't realize until my dad asked me where it was. The next morning.

I love eating breakfast for dinner. Darrell does not. He usually wins that debate.

Last night, we went to Quizno's for dinner. While eating our potato chips, I asked Darrell if he would keep a chip if it looked like a specific shape. He said he would keep a potato chip if it looked exactly like Texas or a perfect square. Just a few chips later, I came across one that looked suspiciously like the United States. I ate it without even trying to keep it.

Don't ever give me a souvenir pencil. I have pencils from the mid-80s that I haven't used. I'm sure the erasers are hard as rocks.

A few months ago, I took all the books out of the bookcase mentioned above and re-arranged them by color. It looks kinda fancy.

I'm in a book club, but have only read about half of the books. I have to choose the book we read in January and I'm under a lot of stress. I'm more of a panic reader than a pleasure reader. Suggestions are welcome.

I hate the flooring in my kitchen. It is 8-inch white, slippery tile, that is supposed to look like marble. It was ruined when we had a slab leak four years ago. We were going to replace it, but haven't gotten around to it yet. I didn't know that when we re-painted three and a half years ago, so I didn't use a drop cloth. I wasn't careful while painting. I really hate my flooring.