Showers and Such

Generally I don't mind baby showers - they're fun! I went to one over the weekend for a cousin (actually a cousin's wife) who had twins a couple of months ago, and they are beautiful boys. The food was good, the gifts were abundant, and it was fun to visit with my aunts and cousins. And the babies... the babies were plentiful! There were the twin boys, of course, and then two other little girls - two-month-old Natalie Aldrich and 11-month-old Rebecca Bachmann. It was so fun to see all these little babies being passed around! Except for Rebecca, who is now very mobile and has places to be and things to do:



I dare you to deny her cuteness. I'm totally charmed by her. Good work, Em and Jorg!
Anyway, the funniest thing about this shower was watching all of my aunts fight over who got to hold what baby. Okay, not really fight, but you should have seen one aunt get really insistent that SHE get to change the dirty diaper of one of the twins she was holding. Another aunt offered to take him and change him, and this aunt says, "NO, I want to do it." WOW.
So finally by the end of the shower, I got brave and said, "Can I hold SOMEONE'S baby? I can't come to a baby shower where there's four babies, and not hold at least ONE." They laughed at me, but took pity on me and let me hold one of the twins for about four minutes. But that was enough to get me really excited to be an aunt! I love the cuddly softness of babies. There's something about them that make you have this almost uncontrollable need to kiss them, nibble their little fingers and toes, and put your cheek against their little bald heads.

Oh man, I can't wait to be an aunt! :)

Anger Management

I had a blind date last weekend. Yes, that means I actually went out on a date! It's been almost a year since I've had a real date, so I was excited. I'd talked to the guy on the phone once or twice, and he sounded really nice and funny - and REALLY nerdy. He said 'toodles' instead of 'good-bye' when we ended our phone conversations. But I liked it! He sounded pretty cool.

So anyway, I was house-sitting for some friends at the time, so I gave him directions on where to pick me up for dinner. Now, those of you that have been there know that it's NOT that hard to find. Really easy, actually. But the first thing this guy said when he came to the door was "Man, this place is IMPOSSIBLE to find!" Huh. Ooookkaaayyy, maybe he just took a wrong turn, or my directions were bad. Oh well, either way, he got there. So we head out to dinner, and start talking, and I notice that he gets really worked up about certain topics - mainly work. At the restaurant, he starts to get REALLY worked up about his old job, and I'm thinking, "Man, this guy has rage issues! He should take anger management classes or something!" I just kept that to myself, thinking I'd tease him about it later in the conversation if it came up. Well, it DID come up - because he actually TELLS me that his old boss thought he had a few rage issues and suggested that he take anger management classes. WHAT??!?! Oh man... red flag, red flag, red flag! It was shortly after that that he quit his job and started somewhere else. GOO.

Not long after that conversation, we left the restaurant and he took me home - in all the date lasted less than two hours. I was back home in time enough to watch a movie with the dog I was dog-sitting. I think we both knew there was no connection or chemistry; but neither of us was complaining - hey, at least we got to go out and meet someone new! Rage issues or not, he was generally a really nice guy. He even said "toodles!" as he walked back to his car after walking me to the front door after our dinner. How jolly! My friend that set us up doesn't know him really well - I'm sure she'd met him once or twice, but had she known about the anger management issues, I'm sure she'd never have set us up.

Oh well - at least I went out on a date, right?

(I just put this picture in this post because I liked it. It has nothing to do with the topic, I know.)

DIS-turbing.

Disturbing event #1:
So last night I was at the gym, and I did my 70-minute cardio while watching two different shows at once and listening to my iPod (I like to be entertained while I jog, if I'm on a treadmill). I was feeling pretty good, but since it was getting late, I decided to just head for home instead of spend 20 minutes on the weight machines.
Turns out I should have just spent the time on the weight machines.
I went in the locker room to get my stuff, and I walked in on an older lady (probably in her 70's) changing out of her gym clothes. WHOOPS. So I hurriedly opened the locker and gathered my things. I made a racket, hoping she'd realize there was someone else in there with her, thinking she'd hurry and put some pants on.
Nope.
When I turned to leave, she breezed past me STARK NAKED, and headed for the shower. Now, this same thing happened once when I was in college, but the gal that strutted her buffness to the shower was probably 25 and in perfect shape. This lady was in her 70's AT LEAST. I just stood there, in shock. It wasn't the naked old lady that bothered me (I understand that childbirth and age cause you to lose your sense of modesty, and any social filter you have); what was the most disturbing to me was that I think this lady was a SISTER MISSIONARY. I could have sworn I saw her with a missionary tag the other day. I THINK she's part of senior missionary couple for Temple Square. Can't be sure, because I see lots of people at the gym - just not many older ladies.
GACK.

Okay, moving on to disturbing event #2:
I've been working HARD the past month on stifling my road rage. I talk myself through any irritations in the mornings - "It's okay, Mel, you can stay a few minutes late if you're late to work." "That person might be having a horrible day, Mel, don't jump to conclusions." "God loves that driver, Mel, you should too."
So this morning, I'm getting on the freeway, when this car comes SCREAMING around me - cuts right between me and the car just in front of me in the other lane - and we're on a curve, no less! A bend in the road, always a precarious place to be if you're going too fast, and some moron screeches around me on TWO WHEELS, narrowly missing both me and the other car. I'm not even exaggerating, I saw two wheels actually leave the pavement, and I was terrified he was going to roll over. It was a miracle he didn't hit both me and the other car, the space between us was so narrow. We both slammed on our brakes to prevent getting hit. I passed the other car up a second later, and me and the other driver looked at each other with deer-in-headlights looks, like, "Did that just happen?"
I still didn't lose my cool - but when the idiot car got stuck in the slow lane a minute later, I passed him up and just stared into his car. He didn't look at me, but MAN. I was mad. But more than that, I was scared. That could have gone horribly wrong, and I could be in a hospital bed this morning, or worse. My fingers and toes tingled from shock all the way to work. Thank heavens for guardian angels!!

Cheese

I've decided that I love cheese. Not just eating cheese, but ALL things cheese. Earlier posts should prove that - I post pictures of pretty boys from cheesy shows. Anyway, I came to this conclusion (for myself - many others have probably already come to this conclusion about me) earlier this week when I met my good friend Holly for cheese fries.

TASTY.

So I'm driving home, listening to cheesy music, with cheese in my tummy, looking forward to watching a cheesy movie after I read a little from my cheesy book...

Good grief, this post is practically dripping with GREASE. I'm stopping now.

Never Let a (Straight?) Man Do Your Nails

I LOVE having my nails done. Acrylics, to be more specific. They make my sausage fingers look slimmer, and I like having at least SOME part of my body look slim!
I've been going to this place at the mall called California Nails for a couple of years, now. They do a fantastic job - I love them there! I used to go to one at South Towne, but stopped going to that one after the gal that was doing my nail fill not only did a crappy job, but explained WHY she did a crappy job - "Man, I was up all night partying!" Um, okay, thanks. So I started going to one at Fashion Place Mall, and they are WONDERFUL. I've had almost all the girls there work on my nails, and they're all fantastic. I don't care that they all chatter in Thai or Cantonese or Chinese or Japanese or whatever it is they speak; I've even learned their accent so I can tell what they're saying, rather than saying 'I'm sorry, can you repeat that?' all the time.
Well, last Thursday I went to get a fill, and the only available nail tech was the one guy that works there. I'd never had him do my nails before, and I thought - what the heck, if he works here, he's probably just as good as the gals! So I sat down at his station, and he went to work. At this point, I have only one word to describe my experience:
OUCH.
The man totally butchered my cuticles (and if there are any boys reading this, it HURTS to have your cuticles filed), and filed my nails all wonky, so they look like chipped and curved eagle talons. He kept asking me how I liked them, and I smiled through my tears of pain and said 'they look great!' just so I could hurry and get out of there. To try and distract myself from the pain, I studied the guy a little: Tight black t-shirt, beaded necklace, spiky black hair, and - a ring on his left ring finger. Huh. The first several observations led me to believe that he was gay (I don't mean to label people, but this has just been my experience with gay guys); but a wedding ring? Guess he could be married... Then I examined the ring a little more closely. It was bigger and prettier than any WOMAN'S ring I'd ever seen! It even had probably a 3/4 karat diamond in the center, slightly raised. WOW. Yeah, that took my mind off the pain for a bit.
In all, it took the man 12 minutes to do my nails. I'm used to the gals taking about 35-45 minutes (and a little more care with my cuticles) for a fill; but this guy had me in and out in 15 minutes. He rushed me right through and did a crummy job; needless to say, I was disappointed. Next time I go in, I'm asking for one of the gals, and I'm starting over with a brand-new set of lovely nails that make my hands look like they have slim, feminine fingers and not wonky eagle talons.

On a different note, I might have a Coke tomorrow! Thanks for all of you who gave me feedback on my soda-pop goal. When I think about it, I was probably just asking for your permission to actually have a Coke; but when it comes down to it, I think that it's all in my head. If I have the self-discipline to seriously limit my food calories, I have the discipline to limit my beverage calories, no matter the source. I could probably have a Coke twice a week and be fine. It's just been so long (8 or 9 weeks) since I've had a soda, I have to work up to it. I hate to think of myself as a big fat failure because I didn't hold to one of my goals for the year. But maybe a bigger and better goal would be to not deny myself, but to have the strength to control the amount of what I allow myself to have. That goes for food, beverages, money, time-off work... life in general. So this is my new "I AM":

I am in control of my life.


:)