Joy to the WORLD

It's that time of year again when they start playing Christmas music the day after Halloween. When there is a picture of Santa everywhere you go and people think that really tacky anything looks great. ( I mean who ever thought that these are decorative?) But in all truth, I really like Christmas. I love putting up the tree and and setting up an electric train to go around it. I love all the candles that I get to burn. Who doesn't enjoy making gingerbread men with you college roommates or decorating an Aggie tree? Christmas cards are a great chance to catch up with old friends who don't read your blog. And it is fun to be able to pick out a special gift for each person in your family.

Speaking of which, if you are like me and a horrible gift giver and the thought of trying to figure out what you little brother would like who has twice as much money as you makes you break out in a sweat, I have a wonderful solution.

World Vision is a great charity that puts out a gift catalog each year. Have you ever watched the evening news and wondered what you can do? Here is a great way to help the world. There are categories such as: animals, clean water, health care, education, food, and others. Last year I gave my family the gift of a share of a medical clinic in Africa and hope for a girl rescued from the sex trade. My old roommate Betsy always gets me a share of a yurt.

World Vision is a Christian charity, that helps people all over the world regardless of religion or race. One of the things I really appreciate about them is that they attempt to get at the root of poverty and not just give a handout. Here is their main page: www.worldvision.org .
Take a look around and see what they are about. And maybe remember what some of all this Christmas hoopla is about.

Success!

I walk in the room and hand patient her iron pill that she has been taking 3 times a day for a least a week.

She stares strangely at the pill as if she has never seen it before and asks what it is even though I have told her what it is every time I give it to her.

Patient: I have heard that to much iron can be bad for you.

Me: To much of anything is bad for you.

Patient: Well, that is a good point.

Patient takes the pill.

Please don't

when meeting someone for the first time tell them that they need to get on the kid train.

Story follows: Hubby and I meet a married man with several children today at church. We politely converse for some minutes and then he inquires if we have any children. Mr. M kindly points out that we have not been married that long, only about 9 months. At which point he says, "Well, that's long enough!" My personal theory on the matter is, once you have kids, you can't give them back. So enjoy the time without them while you can.

Story from several months ago:

23 year old mother of 2: So do you have any kids?

Me: No, we have only been married about 6 months.

(At this point, I am thinking that we can talk about something else)

23 yomo2: So are you going to have kids soon?

Me: Umm, well no, we want to pay off some debt first and be married for a couple of years.

End of conversation. Nothing else is said! There is more to me then my ovaries! I swear! Please be my friend!

Hug me!

An observation about Montana. I have noticed that in church, married couples don't touch each other. They don't hold hands, men don't put their arms around their wives during the service. It's like they are sitting beside each other because they have to. They don't really even talk to each other.

The church I grew up in was not full of PDA. I don't think anyone would ever accuse them of that. Far from it. But you would see husband put their arms around their wives and married couples hold hands. Now that I think about it, dating couples didn't hold hands at church. It was seen as very serious. Not that they didn't hold hands other places, just not at church. I always got the impression that most married couples at church liked each other and enjoyed each others company. Hence one of the reasons that they were married.

Well, I thought that perhaps it is a Southern thing, but when we went to Ohio and visited Lonnie's church, the married couples acted like they liked each other. There were hugs and interaction.

So I am befuddled. I am not saying that people should be making out in the back row, but you married this person and I think that it's OK to show that you like them. My husband and I talk to each other at church and sometimes he puts his arm around me. The pastor made a comment about it once, but I didn't think anything about it until I started watching more couples at church and how they interact. Any thoughts out there?

I'm back (from Ohio)

Mr. M and I went off to Ohio for a week to see his family and various friends. One small problem was that the weather forecast said 50's. Try the the 30's for real. It was warmer in Montana. And I did not bring 30's kind of clothes, I brought 50's kind. But hey, we got an shopping trip out of it.

I got to see the house that "I" own. Mr. M bought this house about 5 years before we got married. There are renters in the house now. Every time I refer to his house, I get this strange look and am told, "MY house? It's OUR house." OK, fair enough, but I can't say that I have ever felt any possession of it. The house is nice, the bedrooms are a bit on the small side, and most of the carpet is left over from a bad case of the 70's. But it has some good sized living areas and a huge yard. I don't know that I feel any more ownership of it, but at least I know what it looks like.

Also I got to spend the whole week sleeping on a hide-a-bed in the living room. A little lack of privacy, but not to bad. One morning I awoke from a Law and Order type dream, convinced that I should go to law school. I then thought about Jess and T&B and quickly moved on with other things in my life.

I never thought I would say this, but I was so tired of eating out by the time we came home. I mean I like to eat out, but not for every meal. Of course we were trying to see someone with almost every meal, but I just don't digest that fast. By the time we got home all I wanted to eat was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I have been eating oatmeal and fruit since getting back. Please, something not caked in grease!

On the drive back from the airport 4 hours away, we got ourselves in a snowstorm and of course I was driving. I don't like snow, I don't like ice, I don't like sliding on the road. But we got back OK.

Awkward presentation

I bet none of you have done this one. I am doing a presentation Thursday to a bunch of crazy teen girls about birth control and STDs. I knew my human sexuality class would come in handy one day!

I have been finding lots of grotty pictures from my textbooks and I am headed to Wal-mart to buy "examples" of contraception. Wouldn't you just love for me to give this talk to you in high school? Hmmmm? To add to all the fun, I was informed yesterday that what I thought was a one hour presentation is now two hours. So these poor girls have to listen to me talk about sex for 2 hours. The girls have had a chance to submit questions on paper and no one would know who the question came from. I figured that I would have tons of questions, but not one girl submitted a question. So now I have a board audience for 2 hours that apparently have no interest in sex. This should be an episode of Arrested Development.

Save the last.... episode

Alas, a horror has descended on my household. We have watched all the episodes of "Arrested Development."

You see my passion for this show started when the now Mrs. Juicebox started dating Mr. Juicebox. He introduced us to the wonder that is this show. I went out and bought the first season about 2 years ago and this spring hubby and I bought the second season. Mr. M trying to cheer me up one day, bought the third season a month ago. The last season is shorter and I tried so hard to space them out. I put off watching the last episode for about 2 weeks because I just could not bear that the show would then be really over. (Insert flowing tears here). I have watched all the deleted scenes, and the bloopers.

The funny thing is that I didn't like any of the character on the show, but they all worked together so well. I loved it. And now there is no more of it. No more wondering if the kissing cousins will kiss, I don't wonder is Tobias will admit he is gay, I don't wish a large rock will fall on Lucile. I can no longer plot Michel's escape from his family for him. I can't wonder if Gob will ever get the pimp slaps he deserves. What will happen if George finds out that Buster is really his brother's son?

A dark cloud hangs over my TV. Granted it is a small cloud since our TV is so small. No more "Arrested Development" to cheer my long cold winter nights in Montana.

Catch up

I apologize for my lack of posting the last few weeks. It has been crazy. I was in Dallas for a week, came back on a Tuesday at midnight. My grandmother died Saturday (as I was working the 3rd of 3 days). I was back on a plane Tuesday for the funeral on Wednesday and came back Thursday. So that has been my crazy life.

It has been so fast and crazy that I haven't had a whole lot of time to process it. I think the hardest part of this is watching my grandad. I called him two days ago to see how he is doing. He talked about how lonely the house is, but he can now walk by her picture without crying, so he thought that was some improvement.

They were married for 64 years and really liked each other the whole time. The week I visited my grandmother, she told me that they still danced in the kitchen sometimes, but it was harder to do these days.

Before the funeral my gandad gave me her watch. I remember looking at it ticking away and thinking how wrong it seemed that her life stopped and her watch kept ticking away. The only time life seems offensive is when there is death and it seems wrong that the rest of the world is full of life.

But what is really wrong is that we die. We weren't created to carve out just a few short years, or to die. We were created to live. Really live. I hate it when people say things like "it was his time" or "God needed another angel" or "it was meant to be." Because none of that is true. We are broken, our world we live in is broken. What really happens is that the place we live and the brokenness in us caught up with us.

I have seen a lot of dead bodies and many people die in my profession. Death is a vile and ugly thing. There is nothing graceful, peaceful or beautiful about it. We can sugar coat it, but it is what it is. We pretend that it's the way the world is supposed to work because we don't know anything better. But inside each of us is a reminder that there is supposed to be something different because when we hear of a death we treat it like it is wrong that it happened. When children die in a tragic accident or shooting, it is wrong. And though we accept it more easily, an older person dying is just as wrong.

I think that Bebo Norman's song Rita says it best. I have always liked this song's take on death. It is true, we live on a killing floor. I could not find a video, so I am posting the lyrics. It is a beautiful song, and I am sure you can find it on the web if you look hard enough.

Lay down softly in our sorrow
Lay down sister to die
And cover over, my sweet Father
Cover over her eyes

Your broken body, it cannot weather
The years your youth still longs to spend
So go down graceful, sleep with the angels
And wake up whole again

Cause it was not your time; that's a useless line
A fallen world took your life

But the God that sometimes can't be found
Will wrap Himself around you
So lay down, sister, lay down

Slower passing are the hours
To tell this tale that takes its time
But the finest moment, no man can measure
Is to look your Savior in the eyes

So take her tender to Your table
Take her from this killing floor
To taste the water that is forever
Let her be thirsty no more

It was not her time; that's a useless line
A fallen world took her life

But the God that sometimes can't be found
Will wrap Himself around you
So lay down, sister, lay down

And the God that sometimes can't be found
Will wrap Himself around you
So lay down, Rita, lay down

Peanut Butter

I have discovered 2 new uses for peanut butter.

1) Try dipping your tortilla chip in peanut butter, then dip in salsa. It sounds bizarre I grant you, but think Asian peanut sauce. Spicy, yet peanut.

2) Next time you are out of bread and are in the mood for some PBJ, toast a pita, insert peanut butter and spear some honey in there. Yum and fewer carbs then bread.

I am in Dallas for the next week, so any one who wants to hang out should call my cell or my parents.

How do you

My grandmother is dying. She only has a month or two left to live in this world. She and my granddad have been married for about 64 years. I have no idea what he will do.

My grandmother and I have butted heads over the years, (we are too much alike is the problem) but there are many things that I respect about her. She built a life with my grandfather for over 60 years. There are few people that have been married that long. She has had multiple surgeries over the years, but she always decides that she is going to get through this and not give up.

She keeps up with fashion and style better then me. Once in high school, she took me Christmas shopping at the Gap and talked about how all the magazines said lime green was the color of the season. I just stared at her. We bought a grey cardigan at my request. She redecorates her house every 10 years (and I inherit her cast offs and am glad to have them).

She wasn't too happy with my choice of A&M at first and wanted me to go to UT. I told her burnt orange clashed with my skin tone.

She adores my husband and is so happy for me. She is so glad that I am where I am.

She was raised on a dirt farm in Oklahoma during the depression. She was born into the Polk family and is proud of their heritage and roots. She loves football. My brothers go watch football games with her, and my husband says she know the game better then him.

She loves parties and throwing them. She truly is a Sothern belle.

Here is a picture of her dancing at my wedding with her nephew.
This is before I walked down the aisle.
I love this one.

Not on the run

For those of you who are unaware of some thing about my personal life, I have a confession to make. I am always constipated. I have been constipated my whole life. Some people are rushed to the emergency room as a child because of broken bones. Not me! I have never had a broken bone, just abdominal pain which took me to the ER.

But I have finally found a positive side to this problem. I can eat all the cherries I want! It is cherry season up here in the Flathead Valley and most people have to limit their consumption of this sweet, delicious fruit. I can eat a whole bag and go about my daily life in complete comfort. I can eat all the cherry crisp that is in my fridge. I can snack on them throughout the day, since my husband picked a bushel of them a few days ago and I am not motivated to learn to can. In short, it is nice to know that after years of pain and GI distress, along with threatened surgeries when you are 4, that there is something nice that I can get out of the experience. I am not sure it's worth it, but I try to look on the bright side.

Holiday

A few weeks ago, we went to Canada with a couple we know here. (Pictures pending). I had never been to Canada before so I get to add that to the list of exciting places I have visited. And a stamp on my passport.

Apparently it was a holiday weekend for Canada because everyone said it was a holiday, but no one knew what the holiday was. We asked about 10 people and they had no idea. They just knew that they didn't have to go to work on Monday. When pressing for information the National Park employee said that it was some sort of civic holiday. Really answered our curiosity. We had him call the visitor center and the visitor center had no idea what holiday it was. As my husband muttered "Too much land, not enough history."

Finally while waiting in line for a shower (we were camping), I found a lady who knew what holiday it was. Heritage Day. Apparently the national government tells the province's that they have to have a holiday that weekend, but leave it up to each province what holiday they want to have. So each province is running around making up a holiday and the calendar makers just put civic holiday on the day rather then list each province's holiday.

Panic Attack

A short story of my own sappiness. We went camping with the aforementioned brother and his family the weekend that they were here. We drove out Friday evening after work and on the way, I fell asleep as I usually do when riding in a car for more then 20 miles.

On Sat, Lonnie drove me back into town and I worked my 4 hour shift. The plan was for me to drive back in my car after work. Well, first I took a shower and grabbed a bite to eat after work. Then I drove out to where I thought the campsite was. After driving the same 3 miles several times and discovering 2 other campsites, I stopped to ask directions. The whole time I am thinking "what will I do if I can't find it? I could go back home, but I would have to sleep by myself! I haven't slept by myself in 6 months. I don't know if I could stand it" Turns out that the site is on the next lake, about 6 miles down the road. At this point it is over 3 hours since I got off of work.

I find the campsite only to discover that my dear hubby and his brother took off to try to call me. I pull out my cell phone thinking that perhaps I will pay the roaming fee this once. Huh! My phone doesn't even roam out there. Just searches and searches. So I use a pay phone and use a calling card number that I used in college that I had memorized at one time and had not used in 5 years. I have no idea how I remembered it. Called Lonnie's brothers cell phone and left several messages and finally got ahold of them. Turns out that they drove all the way back to town in order to get a signal. When they finally come back, my husband admits to me that he missed me and didn't want to sleep by himself either. And the next day, there were several sweet messages on our answering machine from him. So we are a sappy couple, I know.

And just because we are on a David Hasselhoff kick of bad music videos:


David Hasselhoff - Jump In My Car

4 small children and one crazy aunt

I am going to attempt to catch up on what has been going on up here for us. We have had lots of visitors and going places.

First Lonnie's brother, sister-in-law and 4 kids came to visit us for a week. Lots of fun, but those kids can really wear you out! "No, you can't feed the animals in a national park. No, you can't pick the protected wildflowers. You really don't want to see a bear." You get the idea.

Here is a picture of Lonnie and his nephew, Isaac, at Glacier.



Here is a good shot of a gorge we like to visit.

A shot during our hike to Hidden Lake. Lots more goats, but our camera ran out of batteries.

Home of the strange

So a few days ago I pick up the local newspaper and read this. Now there is a follow up article. What gets me is not so much the fact that there was an alligator in Montana, but the way the situation was handled. Gotta love it.

Huckleberries

I have always thought that Huckleberry was an invention of Mark Twain. After all, he made up a lot of crazy things. But I have finally learned that they are real. Huckleberries grow wild up here in the Montana mountains. No one has been able to domesticate them, so if you buy them at the store, they are about $40 a gallon. By the way, have you ever wondered where the phrase "I'll be your huckleberry" that Val Kilmer uses in Tombstone? Here is your answer.

Lonnie and I have gone out to pick them and can pick about a quart an hour. I got to the point where I just sat down in the middle of the patch, and picked. They are smaller and darker then blueberries and taste like a cross of blueberry and blackberry. We took Lonnie's family out to pick a few days ago, but they were mostly gone. We have been making Huckleberry milkshakes and Betsy and I made a desert yesterday involving melted marshmallow, whipped cream and graham cracker crust. Here is a picture of some Huckleberries.

Cherry season is in full force here though and love them. I have never like cherries much, because I don't like sour fruit. But the ones here are sweet and so good. I just snack on them throughout the day. Of course, I just paid $1.49 a piece for an avocado.

I am pleased...

I am pleased to announce the engagement of my friend Liz to her boyfriend Jeremy. There is a great record of my friends marrying Jeremys. Who could forget Jer-bear or Jeremy-marry-me? (Though I did assist in locking Jer-bear out of the house once, but I digress.) There are also several yet not nicknamed Jeremys married to my friends as well.

But back to Liz. Though I have yet to meet this Jeremy, everytime I talk on the phone with her about him, she is happy. There are always relationships I have seen various friends in that cause me to wonder, what the heck are you doing? But with Liz and Jeremy, they seem to be very well suited to each other (plus he got her the perfect ring). Liz is one of my best friends and I wish her the best.

Here and here are cute pictures of us. I think I will be sending her a copy of The Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands for an engagement present. A most excellent book.

Glacier Park

Well, we went to Glacier Park with some of our friends last weekend. We went up to Logan Pass and here is a picture of us on the way up.



Here is a Billygoat mama with her baby goat. Isn't he a cutie?




Here am I (brave Montana woman) walking accross glaciers in shorts.

One of many waterfalls in the area.


If only a camera could really capture all this beauty.

City girl

I have to come to a new understanding about myself. I am, much to my chagrin, a city girl. I have made fun of those who don't know how to function past Frisco, but I have to admit a certain camaraderie with them. The following story will demonstrate this.

Lonnie and I both worked at our respective job on July 4th, but on the 3rd, he suggested we take a drive. So drive we did, in an attempt to find a bison range that he had heard about. Well, we over shot the bison range and found ourselves in Missoula, 121 miles from home. I was so excited, I could barely contain myself as we drove past the wonders that is Old Navy.

We found the college campus in town and walked around, and then my dear husband asked what I wanted to do. "Go to the mall" was my reply. So my husband took me to the mall and I reveled in stores such as Dillards and dropped $75 at the Gap. Though I got 6 items, not to bad. I felt complete and happy. And that is when I discovered that though I am content where I may be, I like the city. I love the shops, the Starbucks, and the vast array of restaurants that do not say "family dining". I love houses that don't have an acre yard to mow, and thought is put into landscaping. I like being on city sewage and having neighbors. I like having more then 2 major roads with which to navigate. I am a city girl. And I love the Gap.

We did find the bison rage on the way back, but it was late and the bison were not to be seen. However, we have decided that we will go again sometime. I just hope we miss it again.

Dang blogger

I am miffed at blogger for not letting me post the song the way I wanted to. It will not put spaces where they shoud be! If anyone can help me, please tell me what to do!

Theology of women. Part One

Wall's of Eden, sung by Pat Green

She holds the key to Eden's gate, Somewhere deep inside

When she gives to me her patience,

And a hundred smiles, none the same

Her eyes are the ocean, I am drowning constantly

I am lucky just to linger in the corners of her scene.

Chorus:

I am lost inside the walls of Eden

Don't you ever set me free

I am lost inside the walls of Eden

I'll never go back, no I'll never go back again.

End chorus

Outside the world's a bastard

The son whose father never cared

It keeps on raging like some crazy storm, but not in here.

Repeat chorus

All it cost me was my whole life, all it gives me is everything

A love like fire, the taste of skin

The feeling of falling again and again

It's a long drink from a cool well

It's everything, baby, it's everything, baby, it's everything

I am lost inside the wall's of Eden, don't you ever set me free

This will probably bore most of my readers so feel free to skip this post. You won't hurt my feelings. If you do read this post, I would love to hear comments, but know that this is only the tip of the ice burg and more thoughts are coming.

I have been doing a lot of thinking the last couple of years about what it means to be a woman, how this relates to men, and how it also relates to my relationship to the world around me and God. To give you some background, I was raised in a conservative evangelical tradition. Women don't preach, they submit to their husbands, and most stay at home with their kids. Now this plays out very differently in different places. Looking at most of the marriages of my parent’s friends and my own friends that are married, the wives are very valued by their husbands and there is a lot of love in the families. Most husbands don't attempt to be lord and master of their wives, and I would say that women still exert a fair amount of power in the home and at church.

What concerns me when looking at some of the more conservative strains within the evangelical church (and believe me, there are many types of people under the heading of evangelical), is that in an attempt to reconcile the family structure with the culture that we live in, we neglect what the Bible really does say about women and listen to some of the most ridiculous notions. All for the sake of being better women or wives, but placing women in positions that are ridiculous as well as, placing men in positions that are ridiculous as well. Most recently is a book that I am reading for a group that I foolhardily joined for the summer. Created to be His Helpmeet will make you want to pull your hair out. The use of Scripture is appalling, and I would add, dangerous. I will go over some of the books fallacies at a later time, but now I want to really look at the story of the first family.

[A quick aside: I am not going to address cases of physical abuse in this post. Most people, even those who believe in submission, believe that physical abuse is wrong. But I am saving that for another day.]

Genesis 1:27 is where we see the first reference to humans and/or women in the Bible. This is a HUGE verse. “God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.” The author of Genesis goes back in chapter two to give more detail about the creation of mankind, but in chapter one, he is giving a summary. And in that summary, we find that BOTH men and women are created in God’s image. (This is where you imagine me jumping up and down to make this point.)

So, Deborah, you the intelligent reader may ask, why is this such a big deal? Because it means that women and not just men are created in the image of God. This sets the precedence for the rest of the discussion. I think that often we are confident that men are created in God’s image and we are not quite sure where women fit into all of that. Some readers may be uncomfortable with this, because God is a male, and am I trying to make Him into a woman? Nooooooo. (Again with the jumping!) But God is spirit and as one of my husband’s crazy seminary friends once pointed out, “God doesn’t have boy parts.” Men are created in God’s image and reflect His glory and women are created in God’s image and reflect His glory. God has chosen to relate to us in the male gender and how that all works out, I have no idea. But we are to assume that BOTH genders are created to image God.

This is such a huge deal, because I am running into people who believe that as women, we were created to only an assistant to our husbands fulfilling their dreams and abilities. Beyond the natural cringe that runs through you because if that was the only what we as women are created for, then why did God give us so many other abilities and desires, this verse reminds us of our true calling. To image God and glorify Him.

New Blog

I will be adding a new blog to my list of links. It details the exciting life a new law school graduate. I will not reveal her identity, but she did write some great movie reviews back in high school and appreciates hot weather like me. So welcome Tab and Brandy.

Not for children

I am not making this up.

There is a gas station chain around here called "Kum and go". I refuse to go to it. No props for being tacky.

The place where we got out tires is called "Big O tires".

Does anyone else think this is as bad as I do? How do you explain this to your kids?

Glory

I think that deep down in all of us is a passion and desire for glory. As I sit here watching the last of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, I am reminded once again what stirs in all of us. There are many classics that we read throughout our formal education. But what do we read to our children? We read books of glory such as The Chronicles of Narnia, The Lord of the Rings, The Bridge. We love The Matrix, Braveheart, and Gladiator. Sam Houston grew up reading about the Napoleonic wars and our nation's founders were raised on the glory tales of Greek and Roman battles. We love to watch specials on TV about WWII. It holds our fascination unlike any other war in recent history. The Trojan war has been talked and read about for thousands of years.

We thrill to hear of bravery and glory of others. At some level, I bet most of us when reading Narnia and LTR longed to be a part of a great epic. To know what out destiny would have been and to know what kind of man (or woman) we really are. The glory of being part of something greater then oneself. Glory in being part of a great cause. To have been a rider of Rohan or a soldier of Gondor. We long be victorious and perform great against a certain evil. And somehow just sitting in an office day after day doesn't quite live up to our secret passions. We thought it would be different, we thought we would be righting the world. We feed on glory as a child and then laugh it off as an adult, but it is there. Somewhere, somehow is still the anxious expectation of a great resolution. It is coming and at certain magical moments it feels as if you could reach out and touch it. But the feeling fades and our busy lives soon convince us that tis but a dream. There is no glory left for us.

But wait still. There is a great resolution coming. There are whispers of a battle to come. The far corners of the earth cry out for justice. It is not a fairy tale. It may yet be a long way off, but a rider on a white horse is coming. He is coming to divide the righteous from the evil. He offers us a part of glory, where greatness awaits not in our glory, but in the greatest thing that is, a dance with our Creator. Glory awaits, and I will ride with Him someday.

Hmmm,

So there are weapons of mass destrucion found in Iraq. I can't say that I am really surprised. Though it doesn't seem to be an issue at this point.

Closet Issues

Early Sunday morning, my dear husband got out of bed at 4:45 to go deliver a paper route for a friend. I being the loving wife that I am did not volunteer to get out of bed with him. He took his shoes out of the closet and walked out of the room. About 3 minutes later, the closet exploded. Imploded would probably be a better word for it. The large shelf and the rod holding our clothes made a glorious crash as it all came down.

A sane person might have jumped out of bed to see what had happened. I made a feeble attempt to tell my husband that the closest exploded while remaining in bed. He came back in our room to survey the damage. It was so depressing to look at. All the shoes had come out of their boxes and the clothes were everywhere. We decide to think about it later.

In the morning my husband says not to worry about it, he will sort through things as I take my shower. Except he forgot and I came out in a towel with nothing to wear. So I am in my towel and he is in his wife beater shirt and we are trying to salvage something to wear to church that is not to wrinkled.

Lonnie did go out and buy the proper things and used his cool new drill to fix our closet and now it is better then ever.

Worst video ever

Ok, if you have a few minutes to spare, take a look at this. It is better if you have someone to laugh with you. My husband woke me up on a Saturday morning to watch this. It was worth it. (That is saying something for those of you who know me.) And for even more entertainment (funnier if you ask me) see this unprofessional remake.

Pictures

Since my parents have a digital camera and brought it with them, I now have pictures of the beautiful place I live.

Here is a picture of my dad in Glacier Park. And yes, those are waterfalls.




Are we not a cute newly married couple? Note that I am still representing my aggie colors and my husband is wearing his "hic" hat. This is a really cool hike, but it seems a lot longer then 4.5 miles!

Return of the Conspiracy Theorist

Well, I had a blast with my parents up here last week. They took us out for lots of good food and we let them sleep in our comfy bed. (But the air mattress does remind me of first being married). On Sunday, we took them to church with us.

Now on this Sunday morning, Mr. M and myself were to be introduced to the congregation since we agreed to help out with the college students this summer. So we had to attend a the first few min of the second service. I dropped my parents off in our Sunday school class and told them we would be a few minutes late. When I reentered the room, who do you think was sitting next to my dad? That's right folks, the organic conspiracy theorist!!!!!! Oh, God! was my first thought, he got to them.

Fortunately, my father is a well read man and had previously read about this guy on my blog and figured out what was going on. My dear dad just stared straight ahead and nodded. When the guy asked my father for his e-mail, my dad said "no." I was so proud. The guy almost fell over in shock. Apparently most people give him an e-mail address just to humor him. Even my own dear husband has given him an e-mail address. Go, Dad, for standing your ground.

And as soon as my father sends me some pictures of their trip, I will post pics of what it looks like up here in the summer.

Making Memorial Day Memories

This past weekend, Lonnie and I went camping with our church. Except there really weren't that many people, but we got to know the youth pastor and some of the teens better. Also, it was COLD. As in raining and in the 40's in the daytime. We were not expecting it to be that cold and our air mattress had no insulation. That first night as I huddled in one sleeping bag with my husband and placed another one on top of both of us (which sounds more fun then it is), I bemoaned our cold weather fate. My husband, trying to comfort me, said something to the effect that some Memorial days are cold. That is when I lost it.

"No, they aren't! Every Memorial Day, my brother roasts himself for 3 days on a boat and dramatically increases his chance of skin cancer. Every Memorial Day, my dad grills outside in his Hawaiian blue shirt and shorts and we eat outside in the heat and love it."

"I meant, some Memorial Days are cold and wet in Montana."

"I know, I just had to whine."

My husband then continues to be all encouraging and calls me a trooper. Which was the dog's name of one of the families there, but I got the idea.

The next day, we drove back to town and bought some camping foam sheet things that kept us MUCH warmer that night. That is when my husband starts talking about how cold and horrible it was the night before.

"Wait a minute, I thought you were OK, you were all this is great last night."

"Yeah, I wanted you to not feel so bad."

At which point I feel like a real heel. Later that day, a small boy presented us with his snail that he found and was his new pet. Later as we walked by him, we overheard the new pet being instructed, "Gary, get back in your shell!"

Strange Names

OK, here is a game everyone can play. I want to hear about some of the strangest names you have come across in your lifetime and Ima Hogg doesn't count. To start you off, I will name some for you.

Lonnie had a coach in high school, Coach Pruner, which would not have been so bad if his first name had not been Forest. As a teacher, he had a student named Velveta. That's right, the processed fake cheese product. There are parents who named their daughter after Velveta cheese.

And last, but not least, if you wanted to name your child what is pronounced "sha-theed," how would you spell it? I had a patient once named that, but spelled Shithead. I am not joking, I wish I was. Some parents named their child Shithead. It was on my patient list and I really thought someone was playing a joke on me.

So please comment on any crazy names you know of. (This is my dirty trick to see how many people read my blog.)

Coin Deposit

There are two Wells Fargo ATM machines in the town I live in. About 2 months ago, a handwritten sign appeared on one of the machines stating that the machine did not take coin and not to deposit coin in the machine. When the second machine opened last week, it had a similar sign done up in a professional manner.

Which brings me to my next point: you don't put up a sign like that for no reason. It means that someone actually attempted to deposit their penny collection in the ATM!!!!

Now I am sure that it is a sweet purple haired grandma who grew up in the depression and believes in the value of saving. But come on people! Just a small reminder that I am not in the big city anymore. You would never see a sign like that in Dallas.

Half an eyebrow

It sounds bad, but it isn't quite as bad as it sounds.

I have this really great contraption that trims eyebrows. You know, it is the little do-hicky that they sell for about $8 at Wall-Mart or $10 at Bed, Bath and Beyond. I have had it for several years and use it whenever the eyebrows are getting a little bushy. I even used it on my husband the other day, and even he was impressed.

Well, a few days ago, I was primping for a youth group function I went to in order to meet the college students and such. So I pull my trusty trimmer out of the drawer. Without first checking that the attachment was properly attached to the trimmer, and without realizing that the attachment was jammed up and basically useless, I proceeded to trim my eyebrow off. OK, well it is only part of it off and it is the outer part and isn't real noticeable. But I officially an idiot. I mean who shaves off part of eyebrow by accident? On yourself? That's what I thought. So far no one has said anything to me about it, but are they just being nice? Here is to unsymetrical eyebrows.

So Sorry

to take so long to update. The few times I have tried, blogger was down. What's a girl to do? Quick update on my life: I like my job! Can you believe it? On Monday I was working second shift and I was looking forward to going to work. I shall now proceed to do the "I am so happy that I don't hate my job" dance. I actually have time to really take care of my patients, really chart the way I want to and really do a good job! Amazing. I am even developing good working relations with my co-workers. People like me!

Also, Lonnie and I have been asked by the youth pastor at our church to help out with the college students this summer. Yeaaa! We like that age group and it should be fun and good for us! It should be interesting. Crazy times are ahead.

Now for my random observation about the world. Did you know that Costco started in Seattle? The mega store to end all mega stores started in Seattle and flourishes in Seattle? This is the same town that hates Wal-Mart with a passion and the same columnist who devoted an entire column to the evils of Wal-Mart admits that he shops at Costco. Does no one else see the irony in this?

Wal- Mart at least sells things that you really can't get anywhere else, like cheap lawn chairs and a vast assortment of hygiene products, and random crap that you find out you really need when there isn't a Wal-Mart around.

Costco, on the other hand, folks can more easily line without. Lonnie and I recently purchased a membership there and use it most frequently to eat lunch there. But really, do I need 6 bunches of Romaine lettuce? Do I need 18 yogurt's? It would be a great place to shop if I had 6 kids, but I don't (and pray I never do). Just goes to prove, I guess, that people like to save money after all, and they still get to hate Wal-Mart at the same time. But do you really need 5 deodorants?

Seattle (and Ikea too)!

Lonnie had a 5 day weekend this week and we were aching to get out of Kalispell, so we took a little trip to Seattle. I love Seattle. It is similar to Austin except it is on the water and the weather is cooler. I almost felt like I was back in Europe.

Got to meet up with an old friend from nursing school who now has a beautiful little 10 month old boy. She and her husband have a lovely home and seem to enjoy their life in Seattle. We stayed with Saunders who live in a very cool area of town. His window overlooks downtown where you can see the space needle and the port.

We made a trip to Ikea on Sat so that we can now have furniture! We bought this in black and two of these along with several other small items. By the way, there is an Ikea going to open in Roundrock, Texas. Now, without a doubt, Austin is the coolest city ever.

We had dinner on pier 66 at a place called Anthony's, quite good and close to the open market where all sorts of things are sold including fresh cut tulips, fresh fish, fruits and vegetables of all sorts and is right across the street from the first Starbucks. There was a wonderful Italian grocery store that I wish I lived next to. I also now know why Pink Lady apples are named such. In the market they were bright pink, think bubble gum pink. Alas as I am still without a camera, I have no evidence of any of this to show you.

I also had a bit of a insight about myself. As we were driving around looking for Saunder's place we drove by the hole-in-the-wall shops, the purple haired people and the general city buzz. I thought to myself, ahh, back where things are normal. It then occurred to me that people having purple hair is not really normal, but it is the strange that I know and am comfortable with. The people in Kalispell are strange, but a different strange, one that I am not as comfortable with.

On the way back to Kalispell, Mr. M spent more money then he should have on a very nice hotel room where he treated me to roses, wine and fresh fruit. I dressed in a short pleather skirt. We were both happy.

Job Update and Easter

Well, I have worked 2 days at my new job! I am enjoying it so far although I miss my old 8 hour shifts, these are 12 hour shifts. People really seem to care about the patients here, the staff is hard working and people are really nice to me. They put up a sign in the front desk of the floor that said, "Welcome, Deborah Mullet." I have never had such a nice welcome.

The night before I started work, I was laying in bed talking to Mr. M and thinking about all the places I have worked. I came to the conclusion that the last job I had that I liked was my first job working at a maternity store when I was a senior in high school. Now I have worked at 3 retail stores, and 2 hospitals as my past jobs. I am hoping that I will like this job too. I would really like to like what I do or at least find some sort of importance to it besides just paying my discover card off.

A few days ago we received an invite from our pastor to spend Easter with his family. We gladly accepted and I asked if I could bring anything.

Pastor Ron: Well, we are having lasagna, what goes with that?

Me: Ummm, well, my family often has sweet potatoes, but that doesn't really go with lasagna.

Pastor Ron: See my wife is still in Mexico, we usually have a ham, but I can't cook that. But I can cook a frozen lasagna.

Me: (in my head thinking, this is starting to make sense) hmmm, how about a salad?

Pastor Ron: well, someone else is already bringing a salad.

Me: How about French bread?

Pastor Ron: That is a great idea! French bread would be great!

So I am bringing French bread to the Easter dinner. Although not quite as strange as when my friend Shelley and I went to Freebirds for Easter lunch and got a standing ovation from the crew since we were the only people there. We hoped our mother's would not be to horrified that we were having burritos for Easter dinner. Life in college, I miss Freebirds.

UTI round II

Most days I have our car because I drop off Mr. M at the carpool and pick him up. But on Wednesday he needed the car. Of course, about noon, I figured out that I have a UTI again!

So I look up the closest clinic (1.1 miles), call my insurance to see if I can go there and hike to the clinic. Did get some antibiotics and a prescription for the pain reliever. I hiked home, took the old pain reliever (left over from my last UTI) since I couldn't fill it until I had a car, and curled up in a ball waiting for my husband to come home.

Being the wonderful man that he is, he went off to Wall-Mart, got me my medications (along with an Elmo kite), fixed me dinner and sat and watched the first half of "Gone with the Wind," since I have never seen it before.

I am very frustrated by all this infection going on. I am not supposed to get sick very often!!!! On the plus side, I start earning money on Tuesday!

Worms

Obviously I am from Texas because it doesn't rain much there. Texas has its good points, but lots of water isn't one of them. By the way, it is bluebonnet season in Austin and I am missing it! That is how much I love my husband.

Anyway, up here it rains more and when the ground gets wet, these worms come up and appear to die on the sidewalk. I wish I could say that these are small worms, but no, these are HUGE worms! I think one of them was about 18 inches laying there on the sidewalk. (I really wish I had a camera.) My husband clams that they come out of the ground to mate, but I have yet to see them close together. Well, they are close enough together that they make it very difficult to navigate without stepping on them and I don't like worm goo on my shoes! I got these shoes in Europe, little worms! I do not like your goo all over my shoes!

So they are close enough together that I have to walk around tip-toe, but don't seem to be close enough to be making any babies. (If you know better then me about these worm habits, please enlighten me.) And then most of them appear to die on the sidewalk anyway, which makes me wonder how they got this far to begin with.

Employment

I guess I will have to change the part in my profile about thinking about getting a job. I thought about it ( I need the money), applied, had an interview yesterday and accepted a job this morning. Wish me luck as I go in to do all the fun paperwork next week.

Here is the website of the place I will be working at:http://www.nvhosp.org/

French protests

This is the best article I have read so far about the situation in France as a whole and the culture in which these protests are comming from.

http://www.slate.com/id/2138949/

Points of Interest

I thought I would post about some small but odd things from this week of living in Montana.

1)Down the street there is a fire truck for sale. Parked in a parking lot, with a big for sale sign in the window. Just think, are you looking for the next step up from you gas guzzling Hummer? Consider purchasing this shiny red fire truck. Ladders included. Your kids will love it. You will be the coolest mom on the block. Everyone will want to ride with you on carpool days. (This is when I am really missing my lost camera, so I could post a pic of this.)

2) Chocolate eggs are 94 cents a dozen at Wall-Mart. Now think about this. These eggs are packed in a foam crate just like real eggs, processed and put all sort of crap in them. Real eggs are 98 cents a dozen at Wall-Mart. The real egg, as in, straight out of the chicken kind of egg. Something is wrong with the way we eat.

3) There was a men's retreat at my church a few weeks ago. Men were encouraged to bring the following: friends, Bible, pen, notebook, teachable heart, (so far, fairly normal) snowmobile, 4-wheeler, ice fishing equipment, firearms, and ammunition. Later there were pictures of the men doing their manly things including shooting at clay pigeons. The caption on that picture read, "The church that shoots together, stays together".

4) Have you ever met a person and you know the second you meet them that the only reason they met you is to put their ideals on you? Mr. M and I made our acquaintance with a man at church. After shaking my husband's hand, he immediately pulls out pictures of his garden out of his bible and starts talking about gardening and the importance of healthy eating and how his compost pile has apple cores from New Zealand, and banana peels from South America. I (trying my best to embrace that we are all part of the body of Christ) attempt to make pleasant conversation with the fellow although it is getting strange.

Then he asks if we read what he wrote in the newspaper on Friday. We don't get the paper, but I think to myself that perhaps he writes a column on gardening or something. No, turns out that he wrote a letter arguing with what some cardiolgist had said. The thought goes through my head, "Oh my god, he is one of those nuts who writes the paper to make fools of themselves and say there is a big conspiracy."

Next the conversation turns to how the government doesn't research heart disease correctly and everything we have been told is false and he can prove it. (Taking deep breath here, not any old nut, he is turning into a conspiracy theorist).

Since I have worked on a cardiac floor this is a little much for me. Now I am not denying that there is plenty of stuff that docs change their minds about, but most people have heart disease because they are FAT! When my 400 pound patient is wheeled in the door (because they can't walk, they are so FAT), their heart is in bad shape because they are FAT and eat to much fried chicken. I attempt to explain this to the guy in a nice a way as possible, and he tells me that there are conflicting studies all the time and what do I have to say to that?!?!?!?!?!?!?! At this point, I am ready to tear what few strands of hair are left on his head and tell him that he is a complete moron. Of course there are conflicting studies, some are badly done, different people are different, and few are done EXACTLY alike! Read the freaking fine print! AGGGGGGGG!

My darling husband, seeing the look on my face, mumbles something about that we must get going and such and gets me away from the man before I blow my top.

No Words Describe

Read this article first before you read my post, or else you won't know what I am talking about.



Now thank God above that you grew up in the family you did. Because no matter how screwed up they are, you didn't go through that. (Warning: I will be expressing some religious beliefs. There, I warned you.)

Sometimes I am scared that by becoming a nurse I have made myself immune to others suffering. I don't care as much as I used to, don't have the emotional room for others hurts (or perceived hurts). But last night I lay in bed and thought about this girl. For a few min, I thought, "Wait, maybe I could adopt her! We have a spare bedroom, she wouldn't need a babysitter, we would love her." Except for the fact that I have only been married a few months, we have NO money and she and I don't speak the same language.

And then of course they have to ask the question about if she believes in good people in the world. So what if she does or doesn't?!? The world is filled with horrible, evil, shitty people. (pardon my French, but it is true in this case, what has been done to her is obscene.) We are a people on self-destruct and always have been. What is even more horrible and evil is that this is not a once every 20 years kind of incident. Horrible, evil things happen every day to millions of people. Only by God's sheer grace am I not in their shoes.

I don't understand people who think that the world is basically good. Only people who live in the USA, don't read or watch the news, and have never worked in a hospital could say that. The fact is WE SUCK. We are HORRIBLE and we are EVIL. There is evil in the world and it is in every one of us. If you don't know about it in yourself then either you are an idiot, or exist on about 5 brain cells. Look around, I mean really look around you. Evil is not just what we do, it is what we don't do (myself included). Do I treat others around me with the love and respect they deserve for being a fellow human, created in the image of God? No, I don't. And you don't either.

Last night as I was wallowing in how evil the world is, my prayer is for "Lord, come quickly. We need You. Gulsoma needs you."

Where was your gnome born?

Several years ago my roommate Betsy studied abroad in Germany for a summer. When she came back, she had a fascinating tale of the German people's outrage over the Polish made gnomes undercutting the German made gnomes. For an actual newspaper article about this, click here. In summation, most Germans don't care and are buying the cheaper Polish made garden gnome. And many of the old German families who have been making expensive gnomes for decades are going out of business. (Capitalism in Europe, who let that in?) Well, I was browsing through Target the other day and saw a garden gnome sitting on the shelf, looking so cute and peaceful. I thought to my self, "Well, he is a bit pricey, I wonder if he is a German or Polish garden gnome?" I was not plagued by the thought that he could be make in America, not possible. So I picked the little guy up and turned him over to see a very small label: MADE IN CHINA. Not even from the same area of the world! (I wonder if the Chinese factory workers realize what they are making and if they do, do they realize how their labor is helping their fellow man all over the world? Do they find meaning knowing that the workers of the world will unite and overcome the evil factory owners who make them trade their labor for money and worse still, they labor making gnomes?)

But never fear, there is an organization ever ready to help us deal with the moral anguish this places us in. The ultimate answer is not where your gnome was born, but if he is enslaved. In the eternal words of William Wallace: "FREEDOM!"

Oh pleeeeze....

Most people who don't win the Oscar award don't go around saying how much better they are then everyone else and then proceed to whine and moan about it. You lost! Get over it. Heck I don't even remember who won best movie last year, so get over it. There is a good song for this, You can't always get what you want.

Not to mention that there are several problems with her article.

1) The academy can vote for whoever they want. That's the point. And yes, they have voted in some sucky performances before, but "crash" isn't one of them.

2) She accuses the academy of being out of touch with American culture. I agree, but not the way she thinks. She actually believes that "Brokeback Mountain" is what Americans over the entire USA are holding up as their wonderful culture?!? Honey, come visit Montana. These guys wouldn't be caught dead in your movie.

3) She says that "Crash" cheated because they sent out a bunch of DVD's to the voters. No way! You mean they did what every other movie does in trying to win? You can do that, it's legal, and even expected. If you can't shell out a few grand to send your move to the voters, what do you expect? And if you don't have a few grand to shell out, did your movie do well? After all, don't you know what the American people love?

4) The part I take most offense to, calling "Crash" trash. It's not. Now I haven't seen Brokeback Mountain, I will when it comes out on video. I am sure it is a well done movie. I am not arguing any of that. But I have seen "Crash" and it is an excellent movie. I was going to write about it before, this article anyway.

If you haven't seen "Crash" you need to. It isn't a pick me up sort of movie, but I think it really exposes all of us. It really is the human condition. We all have parts of us that suck, and we all have parts of us that don't suck as much, and somehow we all have to live together in this crazy world. If you have ever lived in a city, you will get this movie. The thing that really impressed me about this movie is the fact that they dealt with racism, but didn't make it a simple issue or even a black/white issue. It's an us issue. It's not going away anytime soon, you will probably be mistreated at some point in your life. How is that going to define you?

(Arrg to Sofa Mart III) The Couch Has ARRIVED !!!!!

...but not without drama, of course. Lonnie called on Monday to check on our couch. Note that it is Lonnie calling them, not Sofa Mart calling us.

Sofa Mart: "Oh yes, your couch is in."

Pause in conversation.

Lonnie: "Well, since you deliver to Kalispell on Tuesdays, could you deliver it tomorrow?"

Sofa Mart in a tone of amazement: "You want it tomorrow?"

Lonnie: "We bought the couch in Jan, we have been waiting for it for 6 weeks, yes I want it tomorrow."

Sofa Mart: "Well, .... I will see what I can do."

Does that not inspire me, the customer, with confidence? I mean this is the second couch that they have had to order for us and they are shocked that we would like to be able to sit down in our living room as soon as possible?

On Tuesday (yesterday), I get a phone call that my grandmother is going to have open heart surgery in the AM, stat. So I am upset about my grandmother and then this whole, will I have a couch? Should I fly to Texas? Is there even a plane leaving this state?

6:00 PM, still no couch. We call Sofa-Mart, well they are running late, but they are coming.

7:00 PM, call from the delivery guys. "Well, we are in Polson, it will be 9:00 until we can get there. Do you still want us to come?" Yes, freaking yes. My grandmother doesn't even go to bed at 9:00.

7:15 PM, call from delivery guys. I make Lonnie take it. "Well, this couch won't fit in your door and we are in Polson and ...." They are trying to get out of delivering the couch! They tell Lonnie that the sides don't come off the couch even though we were told that by the sells guy when he was telling us that we could reorder the couch. If the sides don't come off the couch, we would not have reordered it. Lonnie says, "You have come this far, let's try it at least."

9:05 PM, truck arrives with couch. Did you know that if you take the feet off the couch (as my husband had them do) and take the door off (which my husband did) and unscrew the banister in the hall (which my husband had them do), lo and behold, the couch fits in the door! Lonnie found it very interesting that when he was around they could get the couch in the door in less then 10 min. I find it very interesting too. Now everything that Lonnie had them do, is a basic part of being a delivery guy with large items. But they couldn't do it unless the person who isn't supposed to know how to move couches tells them what to do.

End of story: we have a beautiful red couch that is quite comfy, I will never buy any large items from Sofa Mart again, my grandmother is in surgery right now, and I am in Montana at the moment. Don't you just love mediocre endings?

Update on our couch

Well, we called Sofa Mart the other day to check on the whereabouts of our couch. Apparently it is St. Louis. "This is a good thing," according to the saleslady. Lonnie asked the saleslady if someone could call us to keep us updated on the couch. "Sure, no problem." That was a week ago. No one has contacted us. In fact, no one has ever contacted us. We had to call them to get it delivered the first time. I had to call them to make arrangements when the couch would not fit in the door. We had to call them to remind them to talk to their manager. And I will call them again to see if we will ever get our couch.

So we ordered this couch in Jan. It is March and I still don't have a place to sit in my living room. And the company clearly is not remotely concerned.

Does anyone know where I can go to throw a fit. I am a fairly patient person, but the total lack of concern or not attempting to make things right with us is starting to make me upset. That, and I can't have people over, because I have no couch! Arrrg to Sofa Mart!

Sticking it to the man

My dear husband has on overactive sense of justice when it comes to warranties on products he buys. Most of us after buying the Mr. Coffee coffeemaker and then it has a problem 6 months later simply pitch the thing and get a new $17 coffeemaker. Not my husband.

Nope, first he digs out the receipt (which he actually still has), call the company and haggles with them for half an hour, packs the thing up, and pays the money to ship the thing to the warranty center. Two months later, we get a new coffee maker shipped to us. And my husband is so proud of himself for his "free" coffeemaker as he holds it in his arms and proudly proclaims, "that's sticking it to the man!"

Lime-a-way

Wandering the only Target in town with my new friend Janna, she expressed to me her frustration with her shower. Apparently it has rust all over the tub along with mineral deposits. I personally hate that, I feel so icky when taking a shower in a tub of rust. I know it isn't dirt, but some bad memories from staying with my widowed grandfather.

Anyway I lead Janna to the cleaning section and pick up the bright green bottle of lime-a-way. Being the daughter of a woman who knows her cleaning products (although mom, you have got to give scrubbing bubbles a shot, they are great) I know all about lime-a-way and the wonders that it can perform. If you have rust or mineral deposits this is what you need. I give a testimony to Janna about how I cleaned some of my guy friend's apartment so they could get their deposit back in College Station. For those of you who have spent any time in College Station, you know that it is a great town, horrible water. Well, their tub was terrible. I mean bad. I don't think it had really been cleaned in over a year. I spent some time with the tub and the lime-a-way and it looked better then before they moved in.

Janna seemed convinced by my testimonial and bought the green bottle. When Lonnie came home from work yesterday, he said that Janna told him that she had spent all weekend in the shower because she loved how clean it was after using the lime-a-way. So celebrate the small things in life like a clean tub. Here's to lime-a-way!

Revenge with a cell phone

This is great, almost makes me want to get a phone with a camera. But wait, I live in Montana. No one hits on me anymore. (Well, maybe one, but I am married to him).

http://www.hollabacknyc.blogspot.com/

The Super Sonic

For those of you who thought I would be posting about Sonic the Hedgehog (cute little feller, never could play the game) or Sonic the restaurant (Vanilla Dr. Pepper mmmmm), I am sorry to disappoint.

No instead this is a post devoted to my new toothbrush. That's right, a toothbrush. But not just any toothbrush. Mr. M has been having some dental problems and upon recommendation of his dental hygenist, we purchased the Sonicare a4100 with superior plaque removal, extra soft bristles, smart timer and patented sonic technology.

Well, I don't know if it will help him out, but I love this thing. I have only used it 3 times and my teeth are whiter then they have ever been (and have done numerous teeth bleaching kits). When I floss after brushing, there is nothing to get out between my teeth. Did I mention my teeth are white? Do you people know that I live on tea, Dr. Pepper, and coffee in that order? Have you any idea how embarrassed I was all through high school about my yellow teeth (before I lived on tea, Dr. Pepper and coffee)? And now after 3 uses of this magical machine, I am tempted to try out to be a tooth model.

I was just lamenting to Lonnie last night as we brushed our teeth (excuse me, sonicared our teeth) that it was to bad I had already bought a toothbrush holder since we don't need it anymore. But He kindly pointed out that it was cheap to begin with and he needed a place to store his gum cleaner. I guess it wasn't a total waste of money.

Wedding Pics!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Did I mention my wedding pictures? I have to say that I really love these pictures, Brooks and Leighanne did a fabulous job! Here is the web site: http://www.deborahandlonnie.com

Watch the slideshow first, then look through the rest of the pictures. To get into the rest of the pictures, you will have to put in a password. It is: deborah+lonnie.

I am so excited that you all get to see them! I hope you enjoy!

Please don't bite me!

In this town there is a weekly publication called "The Mountain Trader." This is where the local folk advertise such things as cars, land, couches, snowblowers, firewood, used spas, fill dirt, cinnamon rolls, amps, postal jobs, jogging stroller, prom dresses, butcher pigs, colonics (yes, it is what it sounds like), bread machines, welding, fresh honey, and well, you get the idea. It makes for very interesting reading if you have the time. http://www.mountaintrader.biz/

Well, I saw some dressers in there that I thought maybe I would buy. They were only $75. So I call up the number and find out that the lady works night and will give me a call back. Turns out that she is a bartender. So she gives me directions to come out and take a look at the dressers. The address is 527 ____. So I make my way to BFE and the place is getting scarier and scarier. See I have been trailer parks before, but these are ones that people donated for tax purposes, I think. I find the street and find 533 and right next to it is 519. Hmmm, I pull out my trusty cell phone and give the woman a call. I have to go down an ally and there is 521 and 529. (I am still not sure where 525 is. If I go between both 521 and 529 shacks, I come to 527 1/2. That is really the address on their trailer! 10 feet further down I finally find 527.

As I attempt to park my car (except there really aren't parking places) a large German Shepard comes bounding out to greet me. His tail is not wagging and I wait a few moments in anxious expectation that another human of some sort will come out and call off the dog. No such luck. So I proceed to open my door and make my way to the house(?). The lady comes out and shows me into a shed where she has the dressers except they look to big to fit in our bedroom, and the bottoms are not even real wood. Meanwhile the large German Shepard is breathing down my pant leg the entire time. I tell the woman that I will go home and measure my room and attempt to get out of the situation as quickly as possible without being rude. This is the recorded attempt of me trying to use The Mountain Trader to find a deal.

Arrrg to Sofa Mart!

About 3 and a half weeks ago, Mr. M and I ordered a red sofa from Sofa Mart. Last week it got to the store, but since they only make deliveries to Kalispell on Tuesdays and they didn't have room on the truck last week. So we wait another week for our couch to arrive.

Yesterday was the big day. The red couch came and the two moron delivery men couldn't even get the couch in the door. They didn't even try to take our door off the hinges to get the couch in! In the process they tracked mud over my new rug, got dirt on the couch cushions and scraped paint on the frame of the couch. And then decided that they couldn't get the couch in the door!

I spoke with a manager today and he was upset with his delivery men, especially after I told him they didn't take the door off the hinges. So kind of him to offer to order a new couch (3 more weeks) and not charge us again! Aren't they generous?

One Month

We have been Mr. and Mrs. for exactly one month today. I got my wedding pictures last night (to be posted on this website soon) and thought that it seemed like a lifetime ago. It was sunny and warm in Texas when I got married. It got up to 30 degrees today.

But overall, I am very pleased with married life. It has been just lovely. I highly recommend it if your husband is at all like Lonnie. He is a most wonderful husband. It is even worth moving to Montana for him.

I Spoke to Soon

A few days ago, my lovely mother asked me about the cold weather up here and how I am handling it. "Oh, it's really not to bad, it get up to the 30 or 40s most every day, I just dress warmly, we have a good heater, la, la, la. Well, it was true at the time.

Yesterday I woke up to the radio saying that it was 6 degrees outside and our thermometer on the porch said 0 degrees. In a moment of being a total wimp, I tell my husband to just take the car to work, I will not venture forth on this cold morning. He does and is very non-critical of my aforementioned wimpyness.

Today it is -16. Yeah, that's a negative sign. I decided to get over my Southern wimpyness and attempt to function in this land I live in. So I got up and put on numerous layers and drove my husband to work (stopping to pick up his co-worker who's car won't start) and will run errands this afternoon, even if my nose hairs freeze within seconds of stepping outside.

I don't understand how you have a normal life in this weather. School is still on today. So you let your kid wait outside for the bus in this weather? Isn't that close to child abuse? What do you do with kids in this kind of weather. I remember playing outside in the winter and we would huddle around the dryer vent and it was nowhere this cold. When I have a job, I am really going to have to function and not huddle in my condo all day. Grocery shopping is a huge ordeal for me that I make my husband go with me. Little things in life just seem like so much more work then they should be.

Where is the Drama?

I was thinking the other day about my life and how it seems so uhh, hmmm, well, regular. It got me thinking, but why? What is so different about this stage of life? Then it hit me. Most of my friends are married. Why should that matter? Well, let me remind you the ever pressing questions going through young women's heads. Who will wind up with who? Will she dump that jerk? Will the blind date work out? Will he get her flowers for her birthday? Will he propose (and will it be a good ring)? Will I be needed for the next two hours to help my friend sort out the remains of her life? What kind of bridesmaids dress will she make me wear? Does he like me, or is he just nice? Do I like him? I don't know,should I? Aggg, my feelings are all over the place!!!!! You get the idea.

Yeah, so my friends all marry nice, wonderful guys who treat them right and I couldn't be happier for them. But all the anxious drama is gone. It explains why my mom's friends were always so interested in my life, drama.

Not that there isn't still drama, but it isn't the fun kind. Even when your best friend's heart is broken, everyone knows at some level that it will be OK. She will recover, she will move on, and she will find a wonderful man (and marry him in 9 months). Now the drama is parent's dying, crappy jobs, crappy grad school and such things like that. Not the fun drama. The question of who my friends will marry and how it will happen, are for the most part answered.

I did get some beautiful yellow roses for Valentine's Day (does my honey know his Texas wife or what?) Really wish I had not lost my camera so I could take pictures for you all. Kind of strange celebrating Valentine's Day as a married woman. See I know my hubby likes me and we want to do something special together. No pressure, no is this to much? Nice and relaxed, no drama. But I like it that way.

Some have a milk man....

Background: my poor husband started vomiting at work so I had to go pick him up and drive him home in the backseat. That evening we are watching a movie in our bedroom.

Knock-Knock, I get out of bed to answer the door.

UPS man standing at the door: "You are on my bad list."

Me: "uhh, OK"

UPS man: "You have 14 boxes."

Me: "Wow! I didn't think they would all come at once."

UPS man: "I am going to bring them to the bottom of the stairs, but not up the stairs."

Me: "OK, fair enough"

I then drag my poor sick husband to help me drag the boxes up the stairs.


Next day: Knock- Knock

Me open door to find UPS man standing there with a package.

UPS man: "I feel like I should ask what's for dinner."

Me: "Do you want a Dr. Pepper?"

A Winter carnival (with a short treatise on childrearing)

First, a very happy birthday to my brother Calvin. He is home from Germany where he had been posted for 13 months.

This past weekend I went to a winter carnival in the town up the road. In honor of the Katrina victims their parade had a Mardi Gras theme. Picture this: I am standing on a patch of ice to see this small town parade and everyone is dressed up in Mardi Gras things over their winter coats. By the end of it I am wearing beads over my ski coat (no, I did not earn them). An especially memorable part of the parade would be some singing nuns called "the bad Habbits." I leave it to your own minds what they sung about.

In other news, we are still sleeping on an air mattress, but our real bed should be coming tomorrow. Keeping my fingers crossed.

I appear to be fully over my UTI, yeah and I am popping the cranberry pills like a drug addict.

Last night, Mr M and I watched the movie "Radio." I had never seen it before. Quick summary, Cuba Gooding Jr. plays a retarded guy and Ed Harris plays a football coach who takes an interest in him. One of my favorite actresses, Debra Winger, makes an appearance as well. Now I really enjoyed the movie, but it got me thinking about the way that people raise children.

Now I grew up in a neighborhood with some drug dealers and my brothers and I were very protective of each other and my brothers did not have a problem using fists. (Come to think of it, they still don't, but that is another story.) But all of us were also raised going to a nursing home every week and looking out for the weaker guy. When my brother, Calvin, was 7 and the best t-ball player on the team, he was adored by all the 5 year olds on the t-ball team. Calvin didn't think he was too cool for them, he encouraged them and played with them and helped them to became better ball players.

When my brother Paul was captain of the wrestling team in high school, he took an interest in the guys who weren't the best. Not only did he encourage them in wrestling, but life as well. He would get up extra early on Sundays and pick up Carl and take him to church and helped him with schoolwork.

When my family moved to Dallas, the church we attended has a woman (Mrs. Smith) in a wheelchair. My brothers and I didn't think anything about it and within the first 2 weeks, all three of us on our own had gone up and made her spoken to her without our parents saying anything about it. (We were all in junior high or younger).

But the real issue here is that this was all behavior that my parents encouraged. My mother later told me that she felt that she had succeed as a parent when Mrs. Smith told my mom that all 3 of us had gone up and spoken to her, and shown an interest in her without my parents saying a word. To paraphrase my mom, she knew a that point that all of us were caring. [Aside: yes, by becoming a nurse, I am not as nice as I once was, BUT I still do have a place in my heart for those truly in need, not the whinny drug abusers.]

Now to get back to the movie, there is a point when nine of the guys on the football team tie up the retarded kid and lock him in a shed. What horrified me about the scene was not that they did it (I do believe in total depravity), but that their parents would not see it as a big deal. That their parents were more concerned about them playing in games, GAMES, then they were about the moral development of their kids.

It horrifies me to walk though the malls of Dallas at times and see the parents with their children dressed to the hilt and hear the kids TELL the parents how they treated so and so at school that day. They have their kids volunteer at their favorite charity once a year and they got their lesson on kindness. Granted, this is a vast generalization, but when I have children, I hope to nurture a tender heart to those in need. Most people with the right help can raise a smart kid. But how many of us can raise a kind one?

Surreal Moment

Since I don't have anyone to talk to about this at the moment, I am posting it here.

Mr. M and I have been surprised that we didn't get any towels for a wedding present. We have been using my college towels that are maroon and white (Whoop! Aggies). So imagine my surprise today when the Fed-ex lady shows up at my door with a box from Neiman Marcus. Don't worry, I did not register there. You have to dress up in a black suit to even walk through the store on your way into the rest of the mall.

So a little petrified, I open the box to find another snazzy box full of white monogrammed towels. I haven't taken them out of the box, I am a little scared to touch them. They look like freshly fallen snow only nicer. As I touched the top towel, I could feel the Neiman spirits disapproval that I will be using these towels. I KNOW I am not that high class. I think I will wait for my husband to come home to convince me to take these towels out of the box. Meanwhile I am going to scrub down my linen closet, so that my humble closet will be as nice a possible for these towels.

Bridal shots

Here is the link to see my bridal pics for those of you who would be interested.

http://www.rebeccalorrine.com/deborahbridal/index.htm

That was such a fun day with my mom, Liz and Becky. We had a blast walking around Texas A&M with a wedding dress. Heck, random people even stopped and took out pictures!

Oh, my God! It's Orange!!!! (aka ER visit II)

Here follows the wonderfulness of my one week married anniversary: Mr. M and I went out and picked out a bed, ordered the bed, (to be delivered in a week, in the meantime, yeah for the air mattress) and looked around at couches. We bought a pizza for lunch, went about town and took a nap.

For dinner I think, "hmmm I will heat up that leftover pizza." I read the directions where it says to take the pizza out of the cardboard box to reheat the pizza. I ( the genius) think to myself that my family has heated pizza up numerous times in the box, I ask my new husband his opinion and proceed to heat up the pizza in the box. Yeah, note to self, move the rack in the oven farther away from the heating element. My box of pizza went up in flames as my dear husband is talking on the phone to his mother. Tells her he has to go since there is a fire in the kitchen. In my head, I am thinking that his mother is going to think that I am a total idiot. She calls him back and tells him not to make fun of me, she once made a turkey and couldn't find the insides to take out, went ahead and cooked it, and her dinner guests found the insides.

After Mr. M stops the fire, we go to Wendy's and drive around for about 45 min since our home now reeks of smoke.

At about midnight I notice it hurts a bit to go to the bathroom. I think, hmmm may have a UTI, may go to the doctor tomorrow. By 3:10 am I am in horrible pain, pacing the floor and going to the bathroom every 5 min. I wake up my poor husband to take me to the ER. One nice thing about living in a small town: I arrive to the ER at 3:30, see a doc at 3:50, have a prescription and am out the door by 4:25. Do the math, in and out of the ER in 55 minutes! I am taking an antibiotic and a special muscle relaxer for UTIs. They all warned me that my urine would turn bright orange from the meds. I believed them, I really did, but WOW! Think the color of dial liquid soap only brighter. (and may glow in the dark). That's about the right color.

Now before you all tell me how to avoid UTIs, I have been doing all of the following:
1) Taking cranberry pills
2) Drinking plenty of water
3) Using the bathroom before and after "material relations"

and I still got a UTI, so there is no magical formula.

So at about 6:30 this morning, my pain subsided enough for me to go to sleep. And yes, I asked the pharmacist if these particular meds interacted with oral birth control. They don't. Think God for small blessings.

The Wedding and Beyond

Sorry it has been so long since I last posted. All the wedding crazyness took over for a while there.

The rehearsal diner was very fun and I think most would agree. People getting up and saying nice things about you is always an ego booster. Then I go home and wonder if I am worthy of all those nice things people say. My grandfather fell in the parking lot after dinner and broke his hip. I didn't even know about it until later, but he was unable to attend the wedding.

Got married without any major problems. The only hitch was a slight trip in walking up to the alter. (Very steep stairs). Getting ready and seeing so many people that I love was a blast as was promising my life to the man I love.

We stayed at a very nice bed&breakfast and went to catch our plane for Vegas. Except we miscalculated how long it would take to get to the airport and return the rental car. We were 3 min late to check into our flight. The next one did not leave for 7 hours. So we called my parents, hung out with relatives and opened gifts, visited my grandfather in the hospital, and I took a nap. I was lying in bed trying to sleep and couldn't, so I called Jess and told her that on our first day of marriage we were hanging out at my parent's house, my husband was watching football with my dad, and I was trying to take a nap in my girlhood pink room.

Vegas (once we got there) was fun except that we both got sick the last few days. We flew into Montana last night and I spent the first night in our married home blowing my nose, coughing and generally keeping my new husband awake since he had to go to work this morning.

Overall though, I would say that married life is very good, now I just have to learn to drive in this ice!

Little girl, do you know where you live?

I went to spend some time with my grandparents the other day and had a nice time and dinner with them. But (there is always a but) do they think I am a complete idiot?

I am moving to Kalispell, Montana at the end of the month. I have been there twice, which entails having bought airline tickets to fly to Kalispell twice. I have mailed several packages to my vundeful fiance, which includes writing out Kalispell numerous times. I have driven around the town and seen such signs such as Kalispell Bank posted. I have poured over maps of Kalispell trying to figure out where various condos were located about town. Now given these aforementioned facts, would you assume that I know where I am moving? But, ladies and gentlemen of bloggerjury, you should never assume! NEVER!

After being quizzed about the correct spelling of Kalispell for about 10 min, I am asked if I am sure that it is Kalispell that I am moving to? Well, I am fairly confident in this fact. Oh, but our map says Kalistead and we thought maybe you were confused. So the map is brought forth, and I walk over to it, point to the town I will be living in and read: Kalispell.

"Wow, you just walked right up and knew where the town is."

"Well, I am moving there."

"What is the name of the town?"

"Kalispell"

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure"

"Well, what do you know, it does say Kalispell!"


What do you say after that? I just didn't say much else about that subject.

Where am I you ask?

Well, my public demands a new post from me so here it is. Here's looking at you, kid.

My family and I surveyed the freeways of LA (hey, they drive better there then in Dallas.) Warning: the following could be considered gross by many people, not for the faint of heart. On the Wednesday night of our trip, I took my sock off to see a huge red half circle spreading up my foot. I had picked up a case of athlete's foot and had been treating it. But 2 days before, I had an opening blister come up between two of my affected toes. I drained it, cleaned it with H2O2 and placed anti-bacterial stuff on it along with the anti-fungal cream I was already using. So when I saw the large amount of infection spreading up my foot, I was not happy. So I go to the doctor in urgent care in the ER and spend a couple of hours to be told that I have cellulitis. No, duh. That's why I came to the hospital.Warning is now finished.

So 10 days of anti-biotics are being taken. I am just glad that I will be off of them for a week before the wedding. We don't want any interference with the BC pills. No little Mullets running around yet! The best part was when I was waiting outside the hospital for my family to come pick me up after I was done. My old roommie, Amber, calls and asks what I am doing.

"Waiting at a hospital in Bakersfield, CA for my family to pick me up."

"Good, Lord, are you OK?"

I then explain my little situation, just sounds more drastic then it is.

In other news, I had a lingerie shower yesterday and it was so nice to hang out with some of my girlfriends and just have time to talk about whatever. I hope a relaxing time was had by all.

Merry Christmas (or Happy Hanukkah or whatever)

Today is Christmas Eve, except my family has to be different and celebrate Christmas Eve yesterday and Christmas today so that we can fly to CA in the AM.

For those of you who know me very well, you know that I am not overjoyed at spending a week in a place where the majority of my memories are sitting in my room crying, but my attitude about the trip has improved the past week. I feel bad because my mom just thought that I didn't want to hang out with my family for a week. Good grief, I love my fam, I am just not crazy CA. Think about having very few good friends who you could really talk to for over 2 years. That basically sums up my experience there.

The real point of this post is to say that I probably will not be posting for the next week. See you in 2006!

ONE Month

ONE month from M-day! (Married day!) One more month and I will be casting off the free and easy life of singleness and taking up the mantel of married life responsibility. Don't worry, I don't really feel that way.

But all joking aside, marriage is a serious thing. In fact the seriousness of it used to be stressed in marriage ceremonies. It is a great undertaking. I have some friends going through some troubles and it impresses upon me again the importance of what my fiance and I are undertaking.

So I am rambling at this point, I suppose my conclusion is that marriage is something to be entered into carefully, thoughtfully, lovingly, and joyfully. But don't mistake this for a happy formula, it's not. It is simply a prayer that God keeps us both close to Him.

Caffeine

Usually I am not really into the numerous quizzes about nothing in particular, but I took a fancy to this one.

Death by Caffeine
How much of your favorite caffeinated drink would it take to kill you? Take this quick test and find out:

You could drink 259.35 cups of Starbucks Tall Caffe Latte before croaking.

I assume that it is in a short period of time and not left in my lifetime. (I hope not anyway, I would have about 1 year left). To find out how to do yourself in:

http://www.energyfiend.com/death-by-caffeine/

10 Degrees

I really didn't know what else to title this post. I have been walking around downtown Kalispell while waiting for my fiance to finish up some busness and it is 10 degrees F outside. I was wondering why I was surrounded by a huge fog cloud until I held my breath for a few seconds and it went away. My breathing appears to be disrupting the atmosphere in this small (but very cute) downtown. I might add that a capachino goes a long way in warming a body up, but it doesn't help that my curls in my hair are frozen into shape.

I did meet a very nice man in a paint store who has a friend whose wife is a nurse at the hospital here in town. So he gets on the phone and gives them my phone number and she is supposed to call me next week. (Can't call me today because her mother is having heart surgery, hey, I'm not demanding.) I also made friends with Lindy, his very nice dog who wanted to go home with me. I love that paint store! Now right down the street at the library, I get free internet for 20 min. What can I say, except for the 10 degree temp outside, I am really enjoing my morning excursion.

Ah neth sum wather (I need some water)

The other day, I finished mailing my invitations. I have licked 120 envelopes. All I could think about the whole time was that episode on Seinfield when George's fiance licks all those cheap envelopes and dies that night from glue poisoning. Not being as bright as some of my friends who after the task was completed suggested using a damp cotton ball or sponge, my mouth was extremely dry.

My grandmother was all freaked out that now I am sending my DNA to all these people. I don't even really know how to respond to that. Ummmm, well yeah, but if they really wanted a sample I am sure they could get their hands on one. Besides I have nothing to hide. My DNA is flawed like everyone else's. And I am not wanted for any violent crimes as far as I know. So I am more concerned about the state of my hydration and not the state of my dried DNA.

But if anyone does get a DNA sample and runs it, could you let me know the results? I want to know what I am going to die from someday!