Wednesday, December 31, 2003

As Time Goes By . . .

You must remember this . . . a kiss is still a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh . . .

. . .

There are many bargains to be had in life. But, when it comes to things like toilet paper, you always get what you pay for. Just a little tip to bring you some bliss, comfort, and cheer in 2004.

Okay, moving right along now . . .

Wow. The last day of the year. You know how when you’re a kid you sit there and stare at the clock . . . just waiting and waiting for tomorrow to come. And it takes f-o-r-e-v-e-r. When you’re a little kid, time moves as slowly as beach traffic in July. Ya know? Well, I must be all grown up now ‘cuz time really flies.

As I sit here and type these words, I feel like I should be in a much more reflective and somber mood. After all, this may very well be the last blog I ever write in 2003. (Or maybe ever? You never know.) I should definitely probably leave you some profound pontification to contemplate well into the wee hours of next year. I should tell you something that will change your life forever. I should write something that will rock your world and make you a new person - no turning back. You will never be the same again after you read what I have to say in my blog.

Sorry . . . I think I’m going to have to fail you this time around. Kevin, do you have anything insightful to tell these good and faithful blog-reading people?

Hmmmm . . .

We spent a few moments over the last several days weighing our New Year’s celebration options for tonight. Some of them were tempting but, in the end, we decided to nix them all and just stay home. As boring as that may sound, this born-to-be-wild girl has decided that "home" is the most wonderful place on earth. No matter how small and meager, our home is our castle and we love it.

All that to say . . .

Happy New Year folks! Let the good times roll.

Tuesday, December 30, 2003


CNN reports: "Seahorses are the only species in which the male gets pregnant. Seahorses also perform an elaborate courtship ritual in which the male dances around the female, often for several hours."

Amy reports: "Sounds good to me."


I mourn the fact that I was so cocky to report to you that our apartment is so clean and tidy. It amazes me how little time and negligence it takes for our apartment to look like a post-tornado scene.

Found a cute little grocery outlet store last night situated down the street from Kevin's office. You know those Babushkas I was telling you about a few blogs ago? Well, I think that whole neighborhood where Kevin works is a Russian settlement. The grocery outlet was filled with Russian-speaking individuals.

Almost killed myself battling a vicious rain storm after exiting the grocery outlet. Bad memories. But that's enough of that.

Monday, December 29, 2003

Pick-A-Physician Game

Since I’m now in a new city, I have to pick a new doctor. Picking a doctor to be your "primary care physician" when you have no clue who the heck he is (either personally or professionally) can be a very frightening thing. I tend to be more cavalier about picking a doctor than Kevin. When we lived in Virginia, Kevin had a certain condition, which shall remain nameless, and I told him he should probably have it checked out by a doctor - to play it safe. He said he didn’t have a doctor. "Oh, that’s simple," I said. "Just pick one." I didn’t see any problem with just closing your eyes, opening the book to a random page, placing your finger on the page, and picking that lucky doctor to be your own. And, if you really didn’t like him on your first visit, you could just try another one next time!

Sometimes, however, when I go to pick a doctor I don’t treat the task quite so haphazardly. (e.g., closing my eyes and placing my finger on page 44.) Rather, I scan the list to see who has the coolest sounding name. Or, better yet, I start at the top of the list, read the basic stats, form my own judgments based on the stats, and THEN pick a doctor. In Virginia, my doctor’s name was "Anne Brown." I wanted a female doctor and she was the first female name listed, alphabetically, within 15 miles of where I lived. See how simple that is? Of course, it’s a good thing that not all people are as illogical as I am when they go to pick a doctor. Otherwise, Dr. Varughese and Dr. Zarrabi would never get any patients. Duh!

One of the "stats" I take into consideration when picking a doctor is how long they’ve been practicing. For instance, Dr. Hibbard’s stats reveal that he’s been in practice for 45 years! Some people might be attracted to this fact because, probably, he is a very experienced grandfatherly-type doctor. This is all well and fine. But, to me, it means that he’s probably like my dear, elderly childhood doctor . . . Dr. Schneider. Dr. S. was so old that he couldn’t see very well. His glasses were about six inches thick. (Seriously!) I was present in the room when he went to remove a wart off my sister’s hand. By mistake, he removed a freckle next to the wart instead. I still don’t think she’s forgiven him for that unfortunate incident.

So, anyway, the moral of the story is . . . well, I’m not quite sure what it is.


Traveling to the homes of loved-ones is sure wonderful. After all the busyness of Christmas, however, it’s nice to be home. Home, with absolutely nothing to do. I love it!

We made sure the house was clean before we left. It was so awesome to come home to a tidy apartment. We lit the fire, got out some snacks and some Martinelli’s. Ahhhhh . . . I think I’m going to really enjoy January. Now that the madness of Christmas is over, the new year has already begun.

And we’ve already made our first resolution - we will light the fireplace more often. There’s just something so marvelously therapeutic about fireglow dancing on the walls around you, smelling the burning wood, contemplating the dying embers.


Christmas celebration this year was like the Energizer battery - it kept going and going and going . . .

Here are highlights of our trip . . .

- Presentation of the Christmas story by Mom and Melissa. Watching mom narrate while little Melissa scrambled to find large pictures depicting various scenes of the story. (Christy was absent for the first part of the story - I later found out that she was putting the finishing touches on a beautiful white scarf she’d knitted for me. That is SO Christy - my dear last-minute, live-by-the-seat-of-your-pants sister.)
- A "car fight" (remote control cars) between Christy, Kevin, and David. (This was actually very funny.)
- Driving along the coast to Santa Maria in the rain.
- Taking a walk with Melissa, wherein she found a naked little doll in a gutter and insisted she rescue it, give it a bath, and keep it.
- Presents under the tree, opened. (One of the coolest things we got are those little motorized toothbrushes.)
- Sneaking to the bathroom to get my hair straightened by Betsy.
- Seeing my newborn first cousin, once removed, for the first time. Meeting a cousin-in-law for the first time. (They drove from Houston - it took them eleven hours just to get out of Texas!)
- Bunny rabbit loose in the house.
- Grandma’s pecan brittle. There is simply no substitute. Yum.
- Watching Count of Monte Cristo until 4 AM.
- Going to mom’s favorite place in the world (all the kids roll their eyes) . . . Solvang!!
- Coffee date with friends.
- Driving with one of my best friends, Christy Williams, in her cute little red convertible, top down, sunshine, wind, hair in your face, heater on full blast . . . gotta love it.
- Experiencing "orange alert" conditions at LAX, missing our early flight home, waiting on standby, finally arriving in Sacramento safe, sound, and a little harried.

Tuesday, December 23, 2003

Amy the Romantic

Before I married her, I never realized that Amy was such a romantic. She was the woman who was going to be a lawyer, run for president, take over the world, didn't have time to be bothered with boys or romance, etc. But something seems to have changed.

As you probably have guessed by now, the vast majority of these blog entries have been posted by Amy. In fact, I think this might be only my second blog entry. It's been very educational to see our life through Amy's eyes in this blog. Her romantic imagination often colors her perception of events---a rose color, perhaps---but colored nonetheless.

For example, in her recent blog entry about our ice skating outing she states: "It was fun to skate to the Christmas music, with the big, starry sky above us." Now, had you been present with us, you would have observed that the sky last night was overcast and a dense fog had rolled in. But Amy's rose-colored perception romanticized a dark, overcast night into a big, starry one.

Marriage has somehow transformed Amy the Warrior into Amy the Romantic, which I quite like, I must confess.


Tonight we board a plane for Los Angeles. It’s only an hour flight. It will be nice not to have to make the six hour drive. Tomorrow we will journey to the central coast to my uncle’s house in Santa Maria for the holiday.

In case you didn’t know, Santa Maria, a town of 75,000, is where Michael Jackson will be indicted and stand trial. Santa Maria is also approximately 50 miles south of the epicenter of yesterday’s earthquake. I have yet to hear whether or not my extended family has been affected by the recent quake. Probably not - or someone would have called us by now.

Speaking of which, I actually enjoy a "good" earthquake, when it’s not destructive. I was disappointed we didn’t really feel it here in Sac. Kevin, to my surprise, was disappointed also. I think that’s one of the novelties about California. You probably can’t really be a Californian until you’ve felt an earthquake. ;) We have yet to initiate Kevin into the club.

Anyways, the point of this whole blog (although I really got off track) is to . . .


Feliz Navidad y Próspero Año Nuevo

Frohe Weihnachten und ein gl|ckliches Neues Jahr!

Joyeux Noel et Bonne Année!

S nastupaiushchim Novym godom i s Rozhdestvom Khristovym!

Buon Natale e Felice Anno Nuovo!

Meri Kurisumasu soshite Akemashite Omedeto!

Shen tan jie kuai le. Hsin Nien Kuaile

(inupik) Jutdlime pivdluarit ukiortame pivdluaritlo!

(Okay I think that takes care of all of you! The last one was for my Eskimo friends - I love you guys!!)

Two More Days ‘Til Christmas!

Believe it or not, there is an outdoor ice rink in downtown Sacramento. It seemed like such a cheery holiday thing to do, so we dug our skates out of the closet last night and headed to the rink. We both enjoy ice skating but Kevin is the only one among us who’s had proper lessons. You’ll have to ask him sometime about his practice of twirling in the hallway and how he wore out the sole of his shoe. But don’t tell him I told you to ask!

During the car ride, Kevin expressed apprehension at going to the K Street mall to skate. Last time we were at this outdoor mall we experienced near-assaults from several homeless crazies. "What do you think they’ll do to you? Mock you and pelt you with rocks while you skate?," I asked. (Sounds like a freakish nightmare - skating on hazy white with homeless people surrounding you, moving in on you with rocks in hand, and taunting you.)

The homeless people, though we saw a few of them, were all very polite and seemed in good spirits. They must be collecting good donations from the streetfolk during this holiday season. (Plus, if you HAD to be homeless, Sacramento is not a bad place to be during the winter!)

We very much enjoyed our evening skate. It was fun to skate to the Christmas music, with the big, starry sky above us. The rink was crowded with lovers and little kids - but it was fun. There was one little boy in particular who was having the time of his life. He was very cute. His body was soaked from falling in the ice and I thought his mouth would fall off from smiling so much. Hanging with kids often makes me feel like one myself.

Monday, December 22, 2003

Endangered Species

How can you be an environmentalist and an evolutionist simultaneously? How can you justify spending billions in resources on saving all the endangered muskrats in the world and, at the same time, believe that only the fittest survive and extinction is a necessary and natural consequence of evolution? I just don’t get it. Can someone help me understand? Am I totally misunderstanding something here?

A specie that is about to be extinct is the all-American cowboy. Over the weekend, I called my mom to get more Christmas gift ideas for my little brother, eight-years-old. She told me that lately he’s been asking for a cowboy hat, holster and gun. In fact, he’s been asking for this stuff repeatedly and REALLY would like to have it. "Great," I thought, "No problem - that’s what we’ll get for him."

First, we went to Toys R Us. We looked high and low to find anything in the cowboy genre. Finally I asked a sales associate and he told me they had nothing cowboy-related in the whole store. What?! Impossible. Isn’t cowboys and Indians what every little boy has role-played for the last century and more?!! That is when I realized how politically incorrect my brother’s Christmas wish was. I mean, guns are EVIL. Right? And, cowboys only represent destructive white aggression toward defenseless Indians. Right?

Political correctness has gone way too far. I’m so sick of it.

We next went to K.B. Toys. Nope - no cowboy stuff there either. Not even a cowboy HAT for heaven’s sake! Oh, but we did see an Indian tomahawk and native, feathered headgear. It’s probably not a violation of politically correct thinking for a store to carry Indian paraphernalia. After all, they are the oppressed ones, modern historians tell us.

Oh brother.

Speaking of cowboys . . . this reminds me of something.

Kevin’s grandma gave me a present when we saw her at Thanksgiving. It was a little cowboy about six inches tall with red and blue beaded legs and arms, a big smiley face, a red hat and boots, and a lasso. Apparently Kevin gave it to grandpa when he was five-years-old and lived in San Antonio. He picked it out especially for grandpa and bought it with his own allowance money. I just thought it was all very cute. Someone asked Kevin why he got a cowboy, of all things. Kevin got defensive and said, "I lived in TEXAS."

Maybe Toys R Us and K.B. Toys in Texas would carry cowboy paraphernalia. Let's hope!

I now realize how rambled-scrambled this whole blog is. But, hey, that’s what blogs are for - the random journaling of haphazard thought.

Ta, ta for now!

Friday, December 19, 2003

Perfect Gifts for Kevin and Amy

Well, both of us took that little survey on getting perfect gifts for others. I did one for Kevin. He did one for me. The results: Kevin is the artsy, intelligent type. Amy is the "overstimulated" type. Thus, according to the survey, Amy should get Kevin tickets to the Opera or Ballet; Kevin should get Amy chocolate covered espresso beans. :-P

So . . . we're off to shop!

"If ever I would leave you, it wouldn't be in Springtime . . . "

" . . . seeing you in Sprintgime, I never could go! Oh no, not in Sprintime, Summer, Winter, or Fall. No, never would I leave you at all . . . " La, di, da, di, da . . .

Okay, I have a confession to make . . . (Confession of a Tired Woman) we skipped bible study last night and watched Camelot instead. I know, I know . . . We are so BAD.

I have just one question: Why do movies made in the 60s and 70s look so DATED? Camelot was made in 1960. The story of King Arthur is supposed to take place in 6th Century AD. Why do all the hairstyles - and even the costumes - in Camelot look like they come out of a 1960s Vogue catalogue?

Touching Moment

A sweet-sounding 11-year-old girl called into Dennis Prager’s show this morning.

Little girl: (with a small voice) Why are people so downtrodden during the holidays?
Dennis: You mean, why are they so sad?
Girl: Yes.
Dennis: You know, I wonder about that myself. What do you think?
Girl: I just don’t know. I mean, my dad left my mom when I was very little and her family has disowned her. They hate her. She never had anybody to be with her during the holidays or celebrate with. And we have always been so happy. We’ve always had good times.

Don’t know why exactly but - to me - this little interchange was so touching. Here is a single mom and a little girl who are focusing on what they have - not on what they don’t have. And, that makes them happy. What a great lesson from the lips of a child.

Turns out the little girl was homeschooled. Good plug for homeschooling! Yea!

For the Perplexed Shopper

Let me just say that this is pretty cool . . .

Quiz: How to find the perfect gift for someone who's impossible to shop for

Thursday, December 18, 2003

Madness and Insanity

Both Kevin and I agree that Christmas is filled with way too much madness and materialism. As much as I LOVE Christmas, this year I'm actually looking forward to the New Year. (Can't believe I put that in writing!) Ugh. Last night for instance, we went to the mall to do some shopping. It was the first "free" night we've had in over a week. We were both exhausted from the day's activities and getting minimal sleep for the last month. Neither of us had done any shopping for each other - we'd spent most of our time, energy and resources on other things and people. (Which, hey, that's great! We love Christmas festivity and we especially love the "significant others" in our lives.) As we stood gazing at the madness around us in the crowded mall, we looked at each other and both agreed that it all was so INSANE. So, if we get around to going out to shop sometime before Christmas - great. Fabulous. If not - that's great too. Wonderful!!

We left the mall and went for a drive to see the lights of the "Fabulous Forties" instead. There were a lot of really creative light arrangements in this artsy district. We were very impressed, actually. Our evening was filled with exclamations of, "Ooh, I like that one" and "Oh! Look at that!" One house was all dolled-up with Disney characters and other cartoons. It had a big "list" on the front yard that said "Good Boys and Girls." I told Kevin to stop the car so I could go put our names on the list. I took my pen and wrote "Kevin and Amy Koons" right in the center of the list.

I've decided that Santa can do the shopping for us this year. We've tried really hard to be good.

10 Places to See Before You Die

MSNBC reports that there are 10 places that you must see before you die. This list of 10 places was apparently whittled down from a list of 1,000 must-see places. Upon reading the list, I realized that I need to get busy! If God allows me to live an average lifespan, I only have 54 years left to accomplish all these things.

1. Jaisalmer (Rajasthan, India)
2. Highland Games (Braemar, Scotland)
3. Giant’s Causeway (Bushmills, Antrim, Northern Ireland)
4. Moscow Metro (Moscow, Russia)
5. Cha Ca La Vong (Hanoi, Vietnam) - this sounds very gross!
6. Chuuk Lagoon’s (Lost Fleet Chuuk, Micronesia)
7. El Questro Wilderness Park (Kimberley, Australia)
8. Sturgis Motorcycle Rally (Sturgis, South Dakota) - ha!
9. Mercado De Hechiceria (La Paz, Bolivia)
10.Diving with Manta Rays (Tobago, Lesser Antilles) - this sounds cool but scary!

Wednesday, December 17, 2003

Capitol Christmas

The rotunda of the Capitol building has taken on a sacred air for the holidays. This morning, as I neared the entrance of the rotunda, I slowed my gait and my senses took inventory of the wondrous sights surrounding me. In the dim of the room, I beheld wreaths and boughs of greenery with red ribbon draped across the balconies. Passersby whispered observations that echoed throughout the room. Despite the whispers, the room seemed silent. The faces of Columbus and Queen Isabella seemed contemplative - as they gazed into the poinsettia below them. After leaving the sanctuary of the rotunda, I proceeded through the heavy wooden doors to the front lawn of the Capitol. There, a cheery, decorated Christmas tree greeted me. I love little glimpses of Christmas, like this.

The state Capitol really is a beautiful place. It saddens me that so much wickedness and evildoing goes on inside its great walls. Why must man always corrupt something beautiful? Until Christ returns to judge the world, corruption and depravity will continue. I can only pray that, where there is darkness, God’s people can be present and courageous to represent His light and truth. Evil may triumph for a moment but Truth will ultimately prevail. That is my hope for the future.

Glutton for Punishment

Got a weird call yesterday. This women, in very broken English, called and asked if I would participate in a phone survey about fast food restaurants. What can I say? I’m a sucker. It wasn’t that I had time for this - or even cared. Maybe I was flattered that someone wanted my opinion about something. I was busy finishing my Grand Cookie Project and figured I could talk on the phone and keep busy at the same time. WRONG. The blasted survey lasted about 20 minutes until I cut it short. I finally hung up on her because she LIED to me. She told me she only had three questions left. I decided to consent to suffer through three more questions on the merits of McDonalds, Wendys, and Pizza Hut. After all, she probably works on commission. And, it’s Christmas.

But, after the third question, she had the nerve to ask a fourth one. That was it. I was very annoyed and confronted her about her fabrication. I just hate when people lie to me. I have zero tolerance for that kind of behavior.

Hey, nice barber you have . . .

Ha! Last night, one of the guys in Kevin’s chorale complimented him on his nice haircut and said that his hair always looks so good. He asked him who cuts it. Kevin replied, "My wife."

"Does she charge?," he asked.
"Not for me!," said Kevin.
"Is she a professional hair stylist?," he asked.
"No," said Kevin, "She just watched a video on how to cut hair and made me her guinea pig."

You must understand, it takes a great step of faith for Kevin to allow Amy to approach his hair with scissors. We have both shed tears over this issue. Amy, feeling incompetent. And Kevin, feeling sorry for his critiques of the final product. So, now Amy feels very vindicated.

Amy is *GLOWING* right now.

Kevin 'N Kenny

Last night was very interesting, to say the least. I just cannot believe how indescribably embarrassing grown women can be. "I LOVE YOU KENNY" was shouted out numerous times. I mean, I realize there may be some male performers out there who are worth wasting your vocal chords and getting excited over. But, Kenny? C’mon! And, he can’t even really sing. Get a life gals!

This reminds me of my dear 19-year-old sister. I don’t understand why she’s attracted to Harrison Ford either. He’s old enough to be her grandfather. I will admit - in his prime, he was one of those attractive, manly times and I can understand a single girl having a crush on him. But NOW? Now he is a wrinkled, full-bellied, old, cocky has-been. Get over him.

What was even more amazing about last night is the fact that people actually paid $100 per ticket to sit in the first 10 rows. I paid $25 for my ticket - my seat was way up in the peanut gallery. But, I was close enough to see Kevin. And, after all, that’s why I went.

Speaking of which, I thought I was going to be disappointed because, for the first several pieces, the chorale sang behind this translucent curtain. Then, when they finally made their entrance onto the actual stage, Kevin was positioned behind a tree. Drat! I thought to myself, "I paid $25 to see Kevin stand behind a tree with his hair poking out at the top?" But eventually, he was able to move away from the tree.

The funniest part of the event was when Kenny got 12 volunteers on stage to sing "The 12 Days of Christmas." Their voices, for the most part, were TERRIBLE and Kenny had a hay day making fun of them. Then, he had the volunteers act out their parts - milking maids, leapings lords, etc. That was also very funny.

Otherwise, the night was uneventful. Oh - except for the fact that I accidently threw away my ticket before I entered the building. I threw it into a big trash can outside the entrance. When I realized I threw it away, I was mortified. I immediately lifted the heavy lid off the trash and plunged almost my entire body into the trash can to fish out my ticket. It was a most embarrassing moment. But all I could think of, at the time, was that I had to get my ticket out before someone threw their burrito on it. Finally, I rescued my ticket from the depths of the trash can. And I was pretty much unscathed from the event.

Whew! After that experience, I figured I could handle whatever else the evening threw my way.

Tuesday, December 16, 2003


Christy: "I learned how to knit this weekend. It's fun - you should learn how. You get to be creative AND you get a finished product, meanwhile it's a mindless activity that you can do while watching tv or listening to something or when you're in the car (though I don't recommend it while driving) or on a bus or at the beach or in a line somewhere.... there are endless opportunities."

It was somewhat surprising to me to learn today that my chic sister, Christy, has taken up the skill of knitting. Apparently another chic person I know, my aunt Carol, has been teaching her. I'm glad to hear that really cool, hip people like these two have ascribed to the hobby of knitting. It's a fabulous thing that knitting is no longer generally considered a pastime for the old and feeble. I love people who break the barriers of orthodox thinking. Go Christy!

Ms. Computers

I am very shocked, astonished and proud of myself right now. With no help from any human source, I figured out how to add a link’s section to my blog (see the end of my blog below). You must understand - this is the most computer savvy thing I have done in my entire life. You must also understand - the template I use for my blog doesn’t automatically include a link's section (some of them do). Using a mere tutorial, I figured out how to manually copy the links text into my template and type in the URLs. Of course, there were a few bloopers before I could work it all out. First . . . all my links read "edit-me" instead of having proper names. Then . . . the links were too far beneath the blog to read . . . the links were too far at the top of the blog . . . the links appeared at the end of EVERY blog entry. (Not good.) But, in the end, I am happy to report that, although not exactly perfect, the obvious wrinkles have been smoothed over.

This may all seem very silly to you. It’s probably not a big deal to you. But, for me, it truly is.

Noel Musings

This morning Kevin headed off to court for his second hearing in two days. I think he’s having a lot of fun with this whole lawyer thing. God has really blessed him with a great job. His boss is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. A nice lawyer - imagine that!

Brrr. I think it’s always 10 degrees colder downtown than it is at our house. I froze my tail off while walking to the office this morning. Just to make sure I wasn’t fantasizing about all this cold weather, I logged onto to check the facts. Sure enough! It’s 36 degrees in Sacramento. In case you’re interested, it’s 50 degrees in Long Beach, 46 degrees in Indianapolis, and 41 degrees in Purcellville, VA.

Yesterday afternoon I took time off work to do some baking. By early evening, I had successfully baked some ninety-billion cookies. Six different varieties, too. Kevin came home and asked what’s for dinner. I had my hands deep in dough and told him to warm up leftovers. He asked me if I was hungry too. I smiled sheepishly. He got the hint. If Amy is around cookie dough all afternoon, the chances are very slim she’ll be hungry for dinner. Just so you know.

Later on, we got out our little box of Christmas tree decorations and trimmed the tree. Finally! We’ve had a bare tree far too long! It was fun to discover decorations that were given to us as wedding gifts - things we didn’t know we had. For instance, we had some really shiny golden bows and some gold beads, etc. Now all we need is something for the top.

Tonight is the Kenny Rogers concert. Should be interesting!

Developing . . .

Monday, December 15, 2003

Random Bits and Pieces

We had the pleasure of seeing our good friend Mark while he was in town. He had this very insightful thing to say about bachelorhood: “I strongly believe that there is only one girl out there for me. You know, my special someone. My soul mate. Now, I figure my happiness depends on only one thing – avoiding that one girl.”

Visit Mark's blog at for more insights. :)

I have now successfully completed addressing what seems like a million Christmas cards. I started licking the envelopes and then realized what a crazy idea that was. I hear that a cockroach can get enough nutrients to live off the back of a postage stamp for a whole month. Since the backs of envelopes have the same substance as postage stamps, I suddenly imagined all the needless calories I’d consume. Heaven forbid.

Someone recently asked us if Kevin and I “did” lunch when we visited Nevada City last weekend. Kevin replied, “Well, we had lunch but we didn’t really ‘do’ lunch.” I think there’s about a $25 difference between ‘having’ lunch and ‘doing’ lunch.

Kevin’s Christmas Chorale concert went marvelously. It really put me in more of a Christmas mood. The only stupid part was this retarded Santa Clause that went dancing along the aisles during some parts of the concert. I think he was trying to be funny. We also had a white elephant party with friends. You HAVE to do one of those every year – or it just wouldn’t be Christmas.

San Diego

Went to San Diego, a true world class city, for a few days last week on a work-related matter. Karen and I stayed in the Gaslamp Hilton. I saw an amazing thing at our hotel. You know how nice hotels usually provide you with a tray of snacks? If you take a snack, the maid will take inventory the next day and bill you for it. Well, at our hotel, there was a tray of snacks with a sign that read: “This tray has an electronic sensor. If you take a snack off the tray for more than 20 seconds, you will be billed for it.” So, basically, I could take a snicker bar, hold it in my hand for 21 seconds, not eat it, put it back, and pay for it. Amazing!

I had a great time with Karen. We both discovered we have yet another thing in common – a mutual love for Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. She is the first person I’ve met who also knows that you should NEVER buy one at a gas station – ‘cuz they often taste like chalk. The only way to guarantee the freshness of your Reese’s is to buy it at a grocery store. Just so you know! ;-)

After experiencing the charm of San Diego, I wondered to myself why we didn’t move there instead. Then, over dinner (if you guys have never been to Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse, I highly recommending forking over the dough to go), I talked to a friend named Mary and she told me that a 500 sq. ft. house in her neighborhood is for rent in the amount of $2,000 per month. I think that may have had something to do with why we didn’t move to San Diego.

On my return flight on Southwest, I was the last person to get on the plane. I was on my cell phone and didn’t feel like standing in line with the rest of the mob to get a good seat. Of course, when I finally got on, I wanted to sit as near the front of the plane as possible. I didn’t see any seats available anywhere near the front except on Row 5, in between these two old guys engaged in conversation. I decided I could tolerate them talking over me and sat down. What I didn’t realize until I sat down was the fact that these guys smelled to high heaven! (No wonder the seat was still available.) Turns out they were fishing addicts. All they talked about the whole way to Sacramento was about their fishing adventures and escapades. I surmised that these two gents had just got back from a two-week, shower-free fishing trip on the Pacific. I tried to breathe through my mouth for the duration of the flight to avoid the stench. After a while, I forgave the smell and thought it was really cute how excited these two old men were about their hobby. “Ya really need a double hook for that kind . . . two of those will fill up yer freezer . . . they taste good smoked, too . . . hoo, hoo, hoo . . . did ya see Billy’s new boat . . .” Upon arriving in Sacramento, they looked out the window, and both agreed that it “looks like a good day to fish! Hoo, hoo, hoo.”

Snows and Shows

Well, it’s been a few days since I’ve interacted with the blog world. You’d think I was off having a marvelous life somewhere. :)

Kevin’s prayers were answered. It snowed in Sacramento on his birthday. Really. It did. I took him to Old Sac to see a mystery dinner theatre show. As we walked the wood-planked streets of Old Town, we happened upon a snow storm. It came directly from the balcony of an old general store and floated onto the street below. There was already a blanket of white snow on the ground surrounding the store when we arrived. Local children were playing in it gleefully while their parents watched from a distance. It was all very marvelous. We’re still not sure exactly what the snow was made of, but it looked very authentic. Kevin said so himself.

The mystery dinner show took place on the Delta King, an old boat docked on the river. Earlier in the day, Kevin, not knowing our plans for the evening, made me promise him that “whatever happens, please don’t embarrass me.” “NEVER,” I replied. We were running a few minutes late and I still had to pay for our tickets. The lady at the box office was just closing shop and told me we were lucky to catch her. I told her I was SO glad she hadn’t left because “it’s his birthday.” “Oh really?,” she said. Then she reached under her desk and pulled out this big, bright, glittery purple crown for Kevin to wear. Kevin smiled politely but, when the woman wasn’t looking, glared at me. On the way down to the dinning room, Kevin ditched his hat on the stair well.

The whole experience was very different than I expected. I expected it to be a little more serious (after all, it was about murder and crime) and a little classier. When we arrived in the dinning area, there were four tables, each holding 10 people. Our eight table-companions were very loud, boisterous, and friendly. We were instantly slapped on the back, made fun of, and initiated into the group. As soon as we arrived at our table, a waitress named Dottie, wearing all kinds of dots on her clothing, walked up to Kevin holding his abandoned purple grown. She cocked her brows and said, “Did some wittle birthday boy forget his wittle crown?” She then placed it on Kevin’s head and our table gave him birthday salutations. So much for not embarrassing him!!

The whole evening was very funny. We laughed and laughed. There were three murders we had to solve, all of them involving a central plot. We had to figure out the perpetrators and the motives behind the murders. We guessed two of the perpetrators but missed some of the clues. We had a good time. Kevin said he was somewhat uptight after the purple crown fiasco but, in the end, said he’d like to go back and do it again. Just probably not on his birthday. ;-)

Quality of Life

Several weeks ago, Kevin mentioned to me that the quality of his life would rise dramatically if only he could wake up to something more peaceful than the shrill BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP of our alarm clock. There once was a time in his life when he had the luxury of waking to his favorite CD. His CD alarm clock, however, became dysfunctional and ever since he’s been stuck with that pesty BEEP-BEEP-BEEP that only makes you more tired and groggy when it wakes you. So, low and behold, for his birthday, his favorite wife got him a new alarm clock that plays the CD of your choice AND also has the option of waking you with nature sounds. Among the nature sounds to choose from are rushing water, birds, wind, rainforest, and ocean sounds.

This past week, we’ve had the pleasure of waking to sounds of the ocean. I’ve become convinced that, if buying ocean front property is not in your budget in the foreseeable, immediate future, having an ocean-sounds alarm clock is surely the next best thing. We highly recommend it.

The quality of our life has indeed risen dramatically.

Wednesday, December 10, 2003

The Resolution of a Story

I’ve been prompted by my dear sister-in-law Megan to please tell the end of Kevin’s Christmas story:

"where's the end of your precious story about the girl and the christmas
tree? you have faithful readers hanging on a limb ..... save us!!!"

The little girl, Alice was her name, hoped for a Christmas tree more than anything else. (But I already told you that.) The first week of December passed by and the first advent candle was lit. Yet, still no tree. The second advent candle . . . the third advent candle . . . the fourth advent candle . . . no tree. Then, at the break of day on Christmas morning, Alice rolled out of bed, and tiptoed quietly to the living room. Her heart pounded steadily within her small frame, hoping that her single Christmas wish would come true. "But, when she got to the living room, there was no tree," Kevin said. At this point I started crying like a maniac and beating on Kevin, "You are so MEAN and CRUEL!! How could you do that to poor Alice?!" Kevin then laughed and said, "Just kidding." (That was the best part of the story, he says.) The story "resolved" itself when Alice entered the living room and discovered THE most beautiful Christmas tree in the world standing before her. I, personally, was amazed at the detail Kevin gave concerning the splendor of the tree in his story. Everything from silver and gold bells and ribbons to a radiant Angel at the top.

So, Meg, the story had a good ending after all. I’m not sure how realistic of a story it was. But, it was a people-pleaser (Amy-pleaser) kind of a story. ;-)

Happy Birthday, Kev

Today is my man’s birthday. He is such a nosy little boogar. I mean, I try and try to have all these little surprises for him but I find that it’s a very challenging thing to do.

First of all, he micro-manages the finances. Which, I think ultimately is a good thing. I’m glad he’s so responsible about it all. BUT . . . I can never even buy the guy a present on the ATM card because he knows before I get home with it where I bought it and the exact amount. (He downloads information from the bank website periodically.) "You spent how much?" At least I can reply, "Honey, what can I say? You’re worth it." (Heh, heh, heh.) And, when I use a credit card, he can go on the credit card website to see how much I’ve spent! Sigh . . . From now on, in order to keep him from finding out the exact amounts I spend, I think I’m gonna have to operate on a cash-only basis and take out an extra $20 here and $20 there so he doesn’t notice it’s missing. (Even then . . . FAT chance.)

Second of all, he asks me a million questions about things because he likes to play the Master Sleuth and figure out everything in advance. Argh! I mean, I can’t blame him for being curious about stuff . . . but I often find that I have to say, "Kevin, I’m not going to give you any information about what we’re doing tonight for your birthday. So, STOP TRYING."

So, anyways, I don’t think he’s guessed any of his presents even though he knows how much I spent. And, I think our plans tonight are still a surprise. Here’s hoping!

Love ya, Kev! Happy B-day! :-)

Tuesday, December 09, 2003

Today's Menu

Well, it is now almost 5 PM. My diet today, Kevin will be mortified to know, has consisted of hot chocolate, a handful of wheat thin crackers, two large M&M chocolate chip cookies, and half a piece of chocolate soufflé. The hot chocolate and crackers will be easy to explain to Kevin because those are semi-normal breakfast items for me, being a working girl. The cookies will be harder to explain ‘cuz I ditched a rather healthful lunch to eat them. The soufflé, I will tell him, HAD to be eaten because it was offered to me by a friend and I couldn’t disappoint this friend. It would have been rude and most unkind of me to have refused this dessert. And the Bible says to be kind one to another. ;)


Today was one of those hectic days. Slaying the dragons of injustice, etc. About thirty miles east of Sacramento is a beautiful mountain town, full of relics from the gold rush era, called Placerville. Today we rallied parents together to fight a bad policy being brought before the county school board. Before we went up there, I took a few phone calls from concerned citizens. One of them said, "I will be there. Come say hi to me. I’ll be the tall guy with a beard." You wouldn’t think there’d be a plethora of tall bearded guys at the average school board meeting. But, Placerville isn’t your average kind of place. There were approximately seven tall bearded guys there. Maybe more. In fact, I think ALL of the gentlemen in attendance were tall and bearded. That’s what you get when you rally a bunch of mountain folk.


I’ve recently discovered that Kevin is a marvelous storyteller. He would deny it, being the modest person he is. But, putting aside all my biases (I think he’s the most talented, smartest, handsomest, nicest person I’ve ever met), I think he’s a FANTASTIC storyteller. I was tired one night last week and, out of the blue, I asked him to tell me a Christmas story. He said okay, paused for a moment, and then began this very touching story of a little girl whose father was a cripple and very poor and couldn’t afford a Christmas tree. The girl had grand visions of a beautiful, star-topped tree. Days went by and she didn’t get her tree. I started getting teary-eyed thinking how sad that was. I mean, all the poor girl wanted was a tree and she couldn’t have one! Kevin spent all this time building up the story and getting me very attached to the character and personality of this little girl. I just wanted to hold the little girl and tell her that "I will move HEAVEN and EARTH to get you a TREE!!!!!"

Later Kevin explained to me that he once took a class on writing stories and the one thing he remembered was that every good story has some sort of tension and then resolution. The tension can be anything - Man vs. Man, Man vs. Nature, Man vs. Himself, etc. Interesting . . .

Kevin, is there anything you can’t do? If I didn’t love you so much, I’d HATE you.

Monday, December 08, 2003

Office Buzzer

Karen, who is known for her shrieking sounds whenever something exciting is happening in the news, just yelled out that "Al Gore is endorsing Howard Dean!" Seriously, Karen is always the first to alert me to anything eventful happening in the world.

Ladies and Gentlemen

Okay, people . . . I rarely recommend articles because I know your time is valuable. But this time, I can’t resist. This is a fantastically insightful article - Rabbi Shmuley Boteach comments on "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy."

"And in a world where there are no ladies, there can be no gentlemen. . . . "

It's a Wonderful Life

Last night we watched my favorite movie of all time - It’s a Wonderful Life. It seemed like a jolly good Christmas thing to do while we addressed our cards. Maybe we’ll make it a family tradition. ;) We laughed and cried and, Kevin, having the sterling memory that he does, quoted many of the lines to me as they were said on the screen.

Speaking of having a wonderful life . . .

Life is what you make it. Yep. That’s what I firmly believe. Everybody is gonna have their ups and downs. And, you can’t hand-pick your trials in life. The only thing that’s certain is . . . you will have them. It’s up to YOU to decide how wonderful (or dreadful) your life is gonna be.

Saturday was wonderful. Kevin took me up to the mountains to cut down a Christmas tree! We went on a glorious drive up to Grass Valley and found a charming little tree farm. It was a rainy day and muddy. But that was okay because the excitement of the moment overcame all. We hiked uphill past many trees - none of them seemed like a match for our home. We crossed a bridge and continued our search. It was a merry time of dodging raindrops and debating the merits of various trees. The surrounding mountains provided a breathtaking backdrop to our adventure. The whole experience was beautiful. We finally decided on a fat, little Douglas Fir. We affectionately named him "Chubby." Then, the saw-man came to chop him down. We were soon on our merry way down the mountain. Before we left, though, we got some free apple cider - which tasted more like Windex than anything. But we laughed it off and dumped it out on the asphalt when we came to a stop light. At least we didn’t waste money on it. ;)

Now our home will smell like Christmas. I love it.

Another fun thing we did this weekend was go to this huge cathedral for a "Procession of Christmas Carols" chorale concert. The acoustics in this cathedral were awesome. The choir stood on opposite ends of the church with glow sticks and sang a fantastic version of Silent Night. Their voices echoed over the whole audience. It was awesome. There is something exceptionally moving about a cappella in a cathedral. I even liked the few African songs they sang with drums in the background.

Friday, December 05, 2003

In The (Christmas) Mood

The other night, I pulled out our one meager little box of Christmas decorations to see if I could transform our apartment into a festive dwelling place for the holidays. I put in my Celine Dion Christmas CD, lit every candle I could find, and started unwrapping our small nativity scene. As I unveiled a solemn-looking shepherd, Celine softly sang "Oh Holy Night." What must it have been like to be a lowly shepherd arriving at a stable to find the newborn son of God? Next, I unwrapped the young, tender-looking Mary. I wondered how she felt when she first held the tiny Christ. So much loving expression was captured on her face. (That’s surprising since I think I bought her at the 99-cent store!) It was one of those quiet, marvelous, reflective moments in life. I love Christmas. I know people that are such bah-hum-bugs who say "you can’t know exactly when Christ was born, so what’s the value of Christmas." You know what? I don’t care when the heck he was born - I appreciate having a time of the year when I can . . . stop . . . put aside the hectic activities of everyday life . . . and think more deeply about God coming to earth in human form. What a gift to have this time. What a precious gift Christ is.

So, anyway, our apartment is looking pretty spiffy right now. I’ve got the stockings hung by the chimney with care. There are a few presents from grandparents sitting by the fireplace. The dishtowels are even decorated with snowmen and poinsettias.

Kevin says he’s having a hard time getting in the Christmas mood because it hasn’t been very cold lately. (It’s been in the 50s.) Granted, it is very weird to see a bright orange-colored tree standing in front of a house lit-up with Christmas icicle lights. It still feels like fall in many respects. But I’m doing my part to help him out by deluging our apartment with Christmas relics. What fun.

Make Someone Happy

Make someone happy
Make just one someone happy
And you will be happy too

In the mornings, as we drive to work, we often see a herd of little Russian grandmas waiting for a bus. These little old ladies appear as if they’ve come straight from the Motherland, wearing their scarves and carrying their handbags. Today, Kevin made eye contact with one of them and waved to her. It was so cute because her eyes lit up and an enormous smile spread across her wrinkled face at this recognition. She tried to raise her feeble hand and wave back but her handbag was too heavy. I told Kevin that he probably made her day and now she’s gonna get on the bus and tell all her babushka friends about how this handsome American is so sweet and wonderful and nice.


A: Kevin, I see that you didn’t brush your teeth last night.
K: How do you know?
A: Because I put toothpaste on your toothbrush last night and it’s still there this morning.
K: Quit bugging me. If I wanted a dental hygienist for a wife, I would have married one.
A: Is it pronounced "hy-GEHN-ist" or "hy-GEEN-ist"?
K: (sarcastically) And, if I wanted an English teacher for a wife, I would have married one of those!

In Stitches

There were only three couples at the bible study last night. Usually there are about 8-9 couples. So, we decided to skip the study and just talk. We talked for about one hour and laughed for about two hours. Walt and Emily told us about their trip to El Salvador (where Walt was born) for Thanksgiving, which involved eating turtle eggs. Apparently, you peel off the top of the shell, which looks like a ping-pong ball, and suck the contents into your mouth. It all sounded very disgusting, if you ask me. In El Salvador, however, it’s a delicacy. Somehow, the conversation transitioned into Christy’s sleep habits and bad childhood memories of her dad’s snoring. That whole topic, somehow, brought up the subject of protecting your home against burglars. Walt showed us this 8 oz. t-ball bat that he bought, and keeps under his bed, to protect himself in case of a home-invasion. He gave us a demonstration of what he would do if a burglar entered his home. It was all very hilarious. It was fun to hang with friends.

Wednesday, December 03, 2003

Quotes for Today

"What would men be without women? Scarce, sir, mighty scarce." - Mark Twain

"Women complain about PMS, but I think of it as the only time of the month when I can be myself." - Roseanne Barr

"Wild horses couldn't drag a secret out of a woman. However, women seldom have lunch with wild horses." - Ivern Boyett

"Last week I stated that this woman was the ugliest woman I had ever seen. I have since been visited by her sister and now wish to withdraw that statement." - Mark Twain

Birthday Girl

Happy Birthday wishes are hereby extended to our beloved and adorable sister, Megan Koons! We love you, Meg.


Bummer. I just found out that tomorrow, instead of coming into the office, I have to go to Karen’s house and make candy. Life is so rough. (I guess we’re going to give homemade toffee to the legislators and high-end donors for Christmas.) I’m just so depressed about all this. ;-)

Well, last night I gave Kevin an early birthday present. I got him a space heater. (I know what you’re thinking. . . such a fun and romantic gift.) The poor little thing has been freezing his tail off at work. His boss, apparently, likes to keep the office one degree above freezing. Kevin once asked the office administrator if they could turn up the heat a bit but she replied, firmly, that "Ron likes it cold." And that was that. So, I found this great "ceramic" space heater for him. Whatever that is. (I asked the employee at the store what it was and even HE didn’t know.) Before I picked it out, I took all the little space heaters and lined them up in a row along the aisle to examine the differences. (I knew Kevin would appreciate this.) I even took the top three picks out of their boxes and turned the knobs to test them out. I think the employee helping me was amused. He probably thought to himself, "It’s just a stupid space heater. Crazy lady."

Speaking of Kevin, bless his heart, he is suffering a nasty little bug. Last night he came home, drank some tea, and curled up and went to sleep. We were going to play a game of Phase 10 but I didn’t have the heart to wake him. Poor guy.

Tuesday, December 02, 2003

Stray Subject Matter

A: Did anyone compliment you on your new pants today at the office? ;)
K: No.
A: Well, I like them.
K: Good and I’m glad. But I’d be freaked out if any of the ladies said anything and I’d VERY freaked out if any of the guys said anything.

For some strange, unknown reason, Kevin has been placed on the ACLU mailing list. Last night he spent quite some time filling out a survey they sent to him. (I told him if he did that, they would label him as a right-winger and take him off the list.) Supposedly, the "correct" answer on the survey questions was to mark "yes" every time. Surprisingly, he did answer "yes" on about half of the questions. In several instances, however, in order for his "yes" to accurately reflect his views, he edited the survey - in detail. "Do you believe the judicial branch should preserve justice despite the leanings of the majority population?" "Yes," Kevin says, and then writes: " . . . as long as they stay within the bounds of the law and the Constitution." There were other edits that I don’t remember. It was cute. (Hey - at least he takes time to fill out surveys. He also filled out the city survey asking residents for their opinions on traffic flow problems and solutions.)

I think Kenny Rogers invited the chorale to sing with him so he could pressure chorale member spouses into attending and sell more tickets. It’s all a plot - that’s what I think.

This morning Karen and I went to talk to a bunch of private senior high school students about internships with CRI. Other groups and Christian businesses were also there trying to get interns. Some of the kids (can’t believe I’m old enough to think high schoolers are "kids") wore blue jeans and t-shirts but some of the young guys took it all very seriously and dressed up - ties and all. They were cute. Karen decided afterwards that she wanted the "red-haired one" to be our intern. We were disappointed when he chose the engineering firm internship instead. Oh well. The strangest part was that several guys lined up to intern with the local crisis pregnancy center! I told Karen, "I can’t believe that A) a guy would WANT to intern there and B) the CPC would LET guys intern there." She quipped, "Maybe they’re interested because the girls they like are interested." Don’t ask me. I’m not going to even try to crawl into the mind of a 17-year-old male.

The bathroom keys at the office are all tied to wrenches - probably so they won’t get lost. This morning Karen opened the door suddenly as I was heading to the bathroom with my wrench in hand. I felt like I was a character in the game "Clue." "Amy did it . . . With a wrench . . . In the bathroom."

Monday, December 01, 2003

Turkey, Stuffing and Stuff

"I love a rainy day . . . chases me away . . . " (I think that’s an Amy Grant song). Being oblivious to change in weather, I am never prepared for rain. Today I went out to get soup for lunch and dodged rain the whole way. It wasn’t too cold out - so, actually, the rain was quite refreshing.

Last night this girl sat across the aisle from us on the plane. She had big brown eyes, long eyelashes, and dimples. She flirted with Kevin shamelessly - the whole way to our layover in Minneapolis. At first I was irritated and jealous. "Can’t she see he’s a married man?!" Then I decided to give her a break. After all, she’s only six months old. I don’t think he’d go for the drooling, teething, diaper-dirtying type anyway.

The best part about that leg of the journey was the fact that the plane was full and we "had" to sit in first class. It was the first time either of us had sat in first class. After the experience I told Kevin, "I used to think that, even if I could afford it, I would never pay the extra money to ride first class. I mean, think of all the starving children that you could feed instead. But, now, I think I’ve changed my mind. Forget the hungry kids in Africa!" Kevin looked at me in shock. But he didn’t realize that I said that just to get a reaction.

The three-hour layover in Minneapolis was uneventful except for the fact that we watched almost an entire football game and I got a peppermint mocha. Yum.

During the layover, we sat next to a family of four - mom, dad and two young boys (probably 11 and 7). The mom was reading a book called "Protect the Emotional Health of Your Son." (I know, I’m such a snoop.) Incidentally, I happened to sit next to the two boys in the plane. I said "hi" to them but they gave me blank stares (as if saying "who the heck are you, lady?"). The 11-year-old son was reading a book. Since I was bored, I decided to read over his shoulder. It was about a man and woman riding in a car together. The woman said she suspected a friend of taking narcotics. The man replied that he takes narcotics too and it’s a wonderful experience and is something that wouldn’t ever harm anyone. I wondered to myself if the mom concerned with her boy’s emotional health knew what he was reading.

Well, what can I say? We had a marvelous time with the Koons Clan. It was great to be with everybody again - it had been four months since we saw them last.

Our Thanksgiving weekend was full of trivial pursuit games (one of them lasting into the wee hours of the morning); excellent food (of course); visiting with family and friends (we were able to hold Seth and Kristi’s adorable and cuddly twin babies); shopping (yes, we were crazy enough to venture out into the mall on Friday); Finding Nemo (no, I didn’t cry at the end); football and basketball for Kevin (yes, he was sore afterwards); snow flurries (yes, it snowed one day!!!!!); and deer hunting stories by Uncle Mike (no, he’s never worried about being shot by another hunter, he said, after I asked him).

Actually, the deer story was kinda funny. Apparently Cousin Brandon shot his first deer on grandpa’s hunting land last Friday. He was exuberant. The challenge after shooting it was getting it across an icy cold, rapidly rising, swiftly flowing river. Uncle Mike tied one end of a rope on the deer corpse’s waist and tied the other end onto himself. He attempted to pull the deer across the water but it got caught in a current and started pulling him down. He had two options: 1) let the deer drown or 2) let the deer and Mike drown. He picked the first option and lived to tell about it. He’s a funny storyteller.

We just had a very good time. In the ideal world everyone you love and care about would all live in the same neighborhood.


You know there’s not much going on in the world when several major news networks report these headlines on their home pages: "Is it Okay to Freeze Bananas?" and "More Obese Choose Stomach Stapling." Oh, and here’s an interesting headline: "Firefighters Leave Wives for 9/11 Widows."

Tuesday, November 25, 2003

Happy Thanksgiving!

I probably won't be posting any more blogs for a few days because, tomorrow, we will be taking off into the wild blue yonder to celebrate Thanksgiving with family in Indiana.

We hope you all have a marvelous, joyous, memorable holiday, full of peace, awareness of God's presence, family, friends, festivity and, of course, FOOD. God has indeed blessed us all abundantly.

Domestic Responsibility

"I hate housework. You make the beds, you wash the dishes and six months later you have to start all over again." - Joan Rivers

Last night was laundry night. Ugh. The worst thing about our apartment is we have to carry our laundry to a separate facility. Blah! Last night I sorted the laundry and started walking over to the facility. Half way there, I realized I forgot the soap. So, I went back and got it. Half way there again, I realized I forgot the key to open the door to the facility. So, I went back and got that. On my third trip, I realized that I forgot the quarters to put in the machines. ARGH!!! I was carrying two loads of clothes, mind you, and they were quite heavy. It was all just an exasperating experience.

One of my blogger friends has several times referred to his "housewife" readers. For the record, I hope he is not referring to me. Someday, when we have kids, I plan to be a full-time homemaker. I do not, however, ever plan on being married to a house. And, thus, will never be a housewife. Thank you. Thank you very much. ;)

I’m Now Related to a Country Singer

I remember a carefree day, four or five years ago, when my friend Meredith and I went to the Orange County Fair. Meredith, having been born in Texas and never having lost her roots, is a huge country music fanatic. She will admit to you that she has had a long-standing crush on Brad Paisley and several other male country singers. I fondly remember Meredith participating in a country music quiz at the fair. She got every question right and won a free t-shirt. It was a very exciting moment. Later that evening, we went to a live concert by Diamond Rio. She sang every word by heart. It was awesome. That’s one of the things I love about Meredith - she’s so confident and secure in who she is. Because of that, she makes a great friend.

In her tradition of trying to cultivate in me an appreciation for country music, Meredith bought me my first Dixie Chicks CD. Of course, this was before they publicly slammed G.W. Bush. Since then, the Chicks’ reputation has been irreparably tarnished in our eyes, both of us being devout Republican Women.

Now let me switch gears just a little bit. Kevin is a lover of classical music. He really digs it. He’s not one of those conservatives who works hard to convince themselves they really do like it - because their convictions won’t allow anything else. He likes it for it’s own sake. We sometimes battle over what to listen to in the car. Should we listen to "Goodbye Earl" or some sonata? Kevin is teaching me to appreciate classier music and I’m teaching him to appreciate sassier music.

All this background was needed to tell you how SHOCKED and AMAZED I was to learn that Kevin had accepted an invitation, extended through the director of his choral society, to be one of the background voices in KENNY ROGER’s Christmas Concert, coming to Sacramento on December 16. I can’t wait to see this. I’m going to be at that concert and I don’t care how much I have to pay for a ticket.

I never dreamed there would be a day when Kevin sang country music - especially on a stage.

Anything is now possible.

Monday, November 24, 2003

A Blog from Kevin

"BTW, it's 'subwoofer' not 'subwolfer.'"

No Kidding

On MSN today: "[Evolution] knit and purl our neural matter into patterns guiding many of the behaviors that guarantee humankind's survival, evolutionary psychologists tell us. Those patterns still skulk in our unconscious minds, inciting us to eat fatty food, recklessly eyeball the neighborhood for sex partners, collect gossip, and battle others for a place in the pecking order. ‘Our modern skulls house a stone age mind,’ as science writer William Allman once axiomized it, and capitalizing on the human ape's basest instincts is what moves 6 million copies of the Star, Us, and People each week."

Learning New Things

Marriage is wonderful because you both have things to contribute to the other person for their edification and knowledge.

The other night, for instance. Amy taught Kevin that, when you eat Chinese food, if you ask for it in a take-out box, they give you bigger servings. She also taught him (by example) that you can pretty much always get up to 25 % off an item at a store if there's a blemish on it and you ask the clerk.

By contrast, Kevin tends to teach Amy about intelligent, scholarly things. She learned about the concept of "subwolf" while they looked at alarm clocks. (In case you don't know, it's a sound that your ear can't detect where it's coming from.) He also taught her about the difference between hot press and cold press paper - which you need to know about if you're an artist.

Learning new things is very cool.

By the way, when I got the 25% off, I thought the item was ten dollars - which would have been (even at $10) a fantastic deal. Since the case was cracked a little bit, I thought I'd ask for the discount, which they gave me. When they rung it up, it was only two dollars - it probably had already been marked down because of the blemish. After the discount, it was only $1.50. I felt like I stole it or something.

The same thing happened at the Tommy Hilfiger outlet store. We bought an article of clothing we thought was $26. We were willing and able to pay that much, thinking (again) that $26 was a fabulous deal. When they wrung it up, it came out as $6. And this one didn't even have any blemishes.

With that luck, we figured we should just keep on shopping!

Holiday Fortune

Friday night was one of those cold autumn evenings where you want to find the warmest sweater you possess to help keep out the chill. They say when you move to a warmer climate, your blood will thin to adjust. Likewise, when you move to a colder climate your blood will thicken. So far, my blood has thinned and Kevin's has rebelled.

On the evening mentioned, we went out to do some early Christmas shopping. (Note from the author: this is the most we have ever been prepared for Christmas - EVER.) Before hitting the shops, we stopped by Panda Express and ate some Chinese food. There is something soothing and marvelous about eating hot, steaming orange chicken on a crisp autumn night. Especially with the one you love. As we ate, we ruminated on the fact that this is the first Christmas we've had for five or so years where we can just enjoy the holidays without the stress of final exams. Sigh . . . I always knew that life would eventually turn less chaotic.

During dinner I noticed an older couple sitting at the table across from us. Neither of them said anything to the other during their whole meal. I wondered if they had run out of things to talk about after all those years. I thought to myself how sad that was. I silently swore that I would never let that happen - I would take up belly dancing or lion taming or something exciting so I could tell Kevin about it at dinner when we're old. ;-)

Of course, we had fortune cookies with our dinner. And I saved them so I could tell you about them. (For those of you who are still not convinced about the worth of having a blog, I ask you: Where else would I be able to tell you about our fortune cookies?)

Mine said: "You are open and honest in your philosophy of love." Kevin said that was true.

Kevin's said: "Impulsiveness where money is concerned, is not your style." Amy told Kevin that was VERY true.

I think it's terribly funny our cookies weren't switched.

'Tis the Season to Travel

It’s been several months since we’ve traveled on an airplane. But we plan to again join the throng at the airport in a few days to go to Indiana for Thanksgiving. As you probably know, the travel-world has changed dramatically since 9-11. I hate the fact that loved ones can’t be there to greet you at your gate. I hate that you have to meet them in the hectic baggage claim area. Maybe it’s just that I’ve always fantasized about having a lover to meet me at my gate. Then, as soon as I did, he couldn’t be there. (So, I’m just an embittered, slighted female.) Another thing I think is just plain STUPID is the random baggage searches just prior to boarding the plane - AFTER you’ve already gone through numerous metal detectors. Do they actually uncover any contraband by subjecting old women and children to this treatment? It always amuses me that we can justify pulling out little grandmas, dressed in cute flowery pink dresses with matching shoes and a handbag, from the line to frisk them for weapons. We do this because we have to be "tolerant" and politically correct, you know. I once witnessed security personnel pass by two men who looked like they’d come straight from the Taliban and remove a small, elderly, innocent-looking Japanese woman who couldn’t speak any English. She was very bewildered and had no clue as to why she was being taken out of line. Talk about emotional distress. As if SHE would have the strength and ambition to knife down a flight attendant to take over the plane. The notion is ludicrous. I think a lot of the hype is simply to hallucinate the masses into believing they are safe and secure.

Friday, November 21, 2003


"You just love to speculate about things you know nothing about. And I love hearing you say a bunch of bunk." - Kevin (to Amy, as they were riding in the car this morning and she was telling him why there’s probably less traffic on Fridays, of which she had no clue.)


Here is my random rendition of the night previous, celebrating Thanksgiving with friends from our young marrieds bible study.

Overheard Kevin talking with someone about how, if it’s 70 degrees below zero, and you spit in the air, your spit will make a cracking sound. (That must have been the most bizarre thing these Californians have ever heard.)

Us wives were eating dinner in the living room, having a good time, laughing about something. That’s when one of the husbands (another guy named Kevin) entered the room and said, "I thought I’d join you so I could see what women talk about." His wife, Christy, said, "We talk about our husbands!" [Snickering ensued.] Kendra (who is very cute and always brings up random things) brought up the topic of non-stick cookware. Kevin rolled his eyes. Apparently Kendra was concerned because she saw on TV that Teflon is very toxic and will kill a bird if it’s in the room when you cook. Oh my!

After dinner, we played ping-pong, and then some Catch Phrase. I always thought I was a competitive person. But I think I’m a WALL FLOWER compared to some of these people. It was a battle of the sexes, of course. Whenever the timer would buzz on the guys, they would always get so animated and dispute everything. One time, during a spat, Kevin was on the girls’ side. This guy named Ryan shouted out, "We don’t trust you because you’re a LAWYER." Then Paul piped up and said, "No, I agree with Kevin." Ryan retorted back, "We don’t trust you either because you’re a cop, and you KNOW lawyers!" These people just make me laugh. They really do. At one point, someone started throwing Skittles. It was all just very funny.

Got home at about 10:30. That is when we remembered that our Godfather movies were due at midnight. We thought we’d hurry through the last part of the last movie and then take it back. After all, we had to get every penny’s worth! And, in spite of the fact that I was very unimpressed with the whole saga, I HAD to see how it would end. Maybe, I thought, the movie would redeem itself.

We finished watching it at 11:55 on the dot. I should never have watched the ending. I would have had a (slightly) better impression of the movie had I not seen the ending. Basically, everyone central to the plot . . . died. There wasn’t any resolution. The last scene is Michael (the main guy) having a heart attack and falling from his chair, while sitting alone outside his house in Sicily. It gave the impression that he was a lonely, old, unhappy, unfulfilled man when he died. It was very unsettling. I’m sure the movie had more "points" to make - but they were all lost on me.

Kevin offered to return the movie so I could go to bed. I thought, however, that I would be a good, supportive wife, and went with him. We pulled into the movie store parking lot at 12:03. It was very interesting to discover that video store employees actually work at midnight to document videos returned by the deadline. Just keep that in mind in case you ever are tempted to fudge the deadline: there will be consequences for your deeds. ;-) I don’t think they’ll penalize us for the three minutes, though.

Thursday, November 20, 2003


"When you live in light of eternity, your values change." - R. Warren

"There are two kinds of people: those who say to God ‘Thy will be done’ and those to whom God says, ‘All right then, have it your way.’" -- C.S. Lewis

"An unhappy religious person is the worst testimony for God and religion in the world." - Dennis Prager

The Way It Is

Have you ever been driving on the road when you realize you don’t remember certain portions of your trip? Well, I must say, that happens to me now and then. Yesterday, for instance. I got into my car and started driving home. A few minutes later I noticed I was entering the freeway but didn’t remember exiting the parking lot or driving the several miles to the freeway entrance. Kevin tells me all the time, "You scare me."

My poor father is the one who taught me how to drive. (He also taught my two spacey sisters how to drive.) But don’t let this cloud your view of my dad. I don’t think the father should bear the sins of the children. Especially since he’s the one with the flawless driving record. But, actually, speaking of which, I now have a flawless driving record too! This fact will simultaneously amaze and horrify my friends out there who know of the "past life and times of Amy Williams." Times when I did things like spin around on the interstate while trying to find a muffin that fell under my seat. And when I totaled two cars in the period of one month. (My airbag went off both times, by the way. It was an interesting experience but I don't recommend you try it . . . especially not twice.) Sad for my sisters, they inherited the car that I learned how to drive in. And, I definitely left my mark on the legendary vehicle! There was a huge gouge in the car on the driver's side and the passenger's side rear view mirror was no longer attached.

My first car accident happened about two hours after I got my learner’s permit. It was a "bump" in a parking lot. Fortunately, there was no injury to person or vehicle. My second accident happened on the freeway during rush hour. My dad was riding with me in the passenger’s seat. I was driving this beat-up Chevy Celebrity and rear-ended a guy in a BMW. Go figure! We pulled over to the side of the freeway. I looked helplessly at my dad. He said, "I’m staying in the car. You go talk to him. You’re the one who hit him - you need to deal with it." Although I didn’t have too many warm, fuzzy feelings toward my dad at that moment, I now realize that was one of the best things he did, at the time, to help me grow up!

So, anyway, back to my point: I now am happy to report that I have a clean driving record (no scuffles in over three years). Not that people like me should have a clean record - for a long, long, long, long time. But, hey, that’s the way it is.

Last night we got an interesting voice mail. This lady from a temp job I worked at when we first arrived in Sacramento called and asked if I could come work for them again next week - because I did such a great job last time. Upon hearing the message, I couldn’t control myself and laughed out loud, "Ha! The only thing I did for them was sit at a desk and smile." Seriously. It’s almost as if cheerfulness in temp employees is a rare commodity.

Kevin hotly disputes the allegations I made that Jackson had a French manicure. However, there’s no denying it. I’ve got the proof. ;)

Tonight we’re going to an "early" Thanksgiving dinner with all our bible study friends. I’m ALL ABOUT celebrating holidays as long as possible. :D So, I’d better go. Need to make a pie.

Wednesday, November 19, 2003

The Rules of Ending Bad Conversation

Here’s something that should seem obvious: when you want to quit a conversation with someone, shut-up yourself and don’t ask more questions or make sympathetic, affirming comments!! Today I talked to a small-town, mountain-man columnist who liked very much to monologue about himself and his ever-wonderful work. (He’s the most influential columnist in his county, he told me. He has the ability to destroy any local politician that crosses him, he told me. He was quoted on Rush the other day, he told me. He told me a LOT more too, by the way.) Despite the fact that I really did want to get off the phone with him and get on with my life, I broke the basic rules of successfully ending a bad conversation. What could have been a five minute conversation lasted 40! I think I have a disease that makes me ask questions.

Today's Prejudices

The current debate in our household is whether or not Michael Jackson is a sick pervert or just a "different sort of guy." Keep in mind that I will obviously be biased in relaying the facts to you. Let me note, however, that Kevin has the password to this blog and is free to comment whenever his time permits. ;) Also keep in mind that our last discussion took place before a warrant was issued for his arrest (Jackson's arrest, not Kevin's) ;), which now indicates that there is probable cause to support my intuitions.

I (Amy) think that Jackson is a perverted and detestable excuse-of-a-human being and he should be locked away for life. What kind of sicko would invite all sorts of young, non-related boys into his bedroom (and bed!) for a slumber party? Kevin thinks he should be given the benefit of a doubt and that his conduct could have been "fatherly" and innocent. For instance, he says, "Home schoolers are often a ‘different’ sort of people, but that doesn’t mean they should be locked away for life. Just because you may be ‘different’ doesn’t mean that society and law enforcement should presume the worst about you." I don’t know about this argument. I’m having a hard time buying it. But, I did admit to him, that I saw his point.

Another point of disagreement: I think Jackson is at least partially transgender. He has make-up permanently tatooed to his face and, last time I saw a picture of him, he had a FRENCH MANICURE. (I don’t think my nails have never looked that nice!) I forget what Kevin said in Jackson’s defense. He’ll have to fill you in on that one. Keep in mind: I’m not saying Kevin likes Jackson at all - he’s just more open-minded than I am about the subject.


Each Godfather movie we watch gets progressively worse. The first one, in spite of the violence, was pretty good. I could have lived the rest of my life never having seen the second one. The third one (we’ve only watched fifteen minutes so far) looks like it’s going to be lame. But I’ll wait another fifteen minutes or so to give it a second chance.

Tidbit: MSN reports that one of the best ways to lose weight is to eat breakfast every day. So don’t think that skipping breakfast will make your stomach shrink and make you a skinny little thing! ;)

Another Tidbit: Just in case your mom ever tells you that, if you swallow gum, it takes seven (7) years for your body to digest it, this is NOT TRUE. According to Cynthia Yoshida, M.D, "If you swallow a tooth, a penny or even gum, it goes right through your system. Although it's sticky, gum does not attach itself to the well-lubricated lining of the gastrointestinal tract." (Just thought this might profit you in life somehow.)

Sticks and Stones

This might sound very childish but my favorite bible story is probably David and Goliath. I just read it today and think it is so profound. Here is David, facing opposition from everyone. Goliath mocks him, "Am I a little dog, that you come to me with sticks?" David’s own brother condescends him by telling him to "go back and tend to your few little sheep in the fields." Saul questions him, saying, "You are just a young boy!" If David had allowed others to influence him, he would have had every reason to feel insecure. But no outside influence phased David. The only thing that mattered to him was "How DARE Goliath defy the living God." He went out boldly to defend His God. He didn’t go out trembling, but with confidence and faith. He knew, with God on his side, he couldn’t possibly lose.

Tuesday, November 18, 2003

Mystic Fog

This morning, fog infiltrated and surrounded Sacramento. I hear it’s common in the central valley to experience fog in the winter. And I’m glad. I love fog - it is just so cozy, romantic, and mysterious.

We’ve been in Sacramento now for four months. It’s interesting because every time we talk to the locals about living here, they say the same thing: "Sacramento is a wonderful place to live because it’s so close to everything! It’s close to Tahoe, the Pacific Ocean, San Francisco, Napa, the Redwoods, Yosemite, etc., etc.!" It’s funny to us because no one ever has anything good to say about Sacramento itself. The only thing good about Sacramento, they say, is that it’s close to OTHER things.

Wands and Rats

Last night on my way to the parking lot to get my car, I found a glittery gold magic wand, with a star at the tip, lying on the ground. Kevin says it’s revolting that I pick up nasty, germ-ridden objects from the ground. But I couldn’t resist. It probably belonged to some sweet, angelic child who cried when she lost it.

When I go to pick-up Kevin at his office, I have two choices for entering the building. I can go through the main entrance, which is "miles" from where I park. Or, I can go through the side entrance which lets me in near Kevin’s office door. His office window, on the street level, is near where I park. Usually he notices right away that I am standing there waiting for him to let me in. Last night I stood there, with my magic wand in hand, for what seemed like several minutes. Soon I started shaking my glittery wand at him to get his attention. At that point I realized that I must look like some crazy FREAK, standing outside the building waving my magic wand at some guy sitting at his desk. When no one was around to see me, I picked up a twig and threw it at Kev’s window. He instantly jumped in his chair. I felt bad but, hey, desperate times call for desperate measures! When I walked to the side entrance to meet Kevin, I noticed a large rat sitting outside the door. (It was either a large rat or a gargantuan mouse!) Once I saw Kevin through the glass door, I shrieked and pointed to the rat. He raised his eyebrows, cracked the door, and said he’d go get something to throw at it. I ran back to the car, closed the door, and rolled down the window to see what would happen.

Soon Kevin returned with a fist full of plastic spoons from the kitchen. He cracked open the door and threw a spoon at the beast. It landed right next to the rat. The rat stiffened and raised its nose but didn’t otherwise move. It was as if it was mocking us and saying, "This is MY territory." Kevin threw another spoon at it. This time the spoon landed smack on its back. The rat, again, only moved slightly. All the while, I was sitting in the car, laughing my head off at this charade. Eventually, being the brilliant people that we are, we figured that there must be something wrong with it. Kevin called out for me to tiptoe around the rat and enter the building. I did so, with some trepidation, I must admit. My wild imagination envisioned the nasty creature reaching out to bite me and infect me with some horrid disease. I was relieved to make it safely into the confines of the building with no further incident. (Honestly, I feel sorry for the poor rat - it must have been terrified to be injured and helpless like that. Poor thing.)

I can’t believe I just wrote that last sentiment. I’m getting WAY too emotional if I have feelings for a rat!

From that point on, we followed the usual end-of-the-work-day routine. Typically I sit in a chair across from Kevin’s desk and find something to amuse myself as he wraps up his last project and calculates his billable hours for the day. Wretched billable hours. I think that would be the worst part about being a "real lawyer." So much of your life would be complicated by the math. And, I’m sure I’d miscalculate every now and then and cheat some poor client. It’s a good thing Kevin is the one that has the real job.

Monday, November 17, 2003

The Big Guy

There are a lot of important-looking people milling around downtown right now. I observed them as I took a brief walk in the brisk early afternoon air to meet a friend at Café Dolce. As I walked, I met a group of media standing on a street corner. A young woman bystander was also standing there. I asked, "What are you guys waiting for?" Her eyes widened and she said, "Arnold is supposed to walk by here." I continued on my merry way. Twenty minutes later, as I walked back to the office, I saw the same star-crazed girl standing in the same spot. What a waste of your life . . . waiting around like that. Arnold bleeds red like everyone else. What a sucker.

Did you watch the inauguration this morning? (I have a job where I can do that, so maybe you didn’t.) The thing that most amused me was the Catholic priest who gave the invocation. Is anyone foolish enough to think he was actually talking to God? Another amusing thing: he spent several sentences (in his prayer!) talking about the "indominable spirit" of Maria Shriver - but I don’t recall him talking much about Arnold.

Sabbath Day

Church yesterday morning was pretty much uneventful. Oh, except for the fact that when I was trying to squeeze in between the narrow pews to get into my seat, I spilled almost my entire glass of water onto this lady (and her son) in front of me. Oops! I immediately told her how sorry I was. Then I assured her that it was only water. Later, Kevin told me I shouldn't have said "it’s only water" because that gave the appearance that I was trying to brush it off. Argh. That’s the story of my life. Being a klutz, experiencing the consequences, and then doing even more stupid things to "make up" for it. The worst part of the story is that I think the lady was a new visitor. :-/

That afternoon, we made lunch and then watched part of The Godfather II. The saga continues! We were interrupted by a call for help from a nearby cousin. They were moving across town and needed help. Seeing how it is always lawful to do good on the Sabbath, and, I must confess, because we like these cousins a lot and thought it would be fun to hang-out with them, we came to their aid.

On our way home from helping them move, we saw this huge flashy casino (on Indian land) off the highway. I’m not sure how "lawful" it is to go to Casinos on the Sabbath, but we decided to check it out anyway. (It was Kevin’s idea, I was shocked. Shocked!) Just so you know, we didn’t go to gamble. My constitution cannot handle losing even ONE penny for anything. On the way out, Kevin remarked that he didn’t see anyone that looked genuinely happy in the whole place. We only saw people, rather than being content where they are, trying to get rich because they think that a lot of money will finally give them the happiness they crave so desperately. Very sad.

Frolic and Merriment

I never knew how much fun you could have in a Bose store. You know, that sound-system store that is all the rave now? Saturday we went to the outlet mall to do some preliminary Christmas shopping. (We ended up not buying anything, though. There’s something quirky about doing a budget that makes you not want to spend money . . . but I’m SURE that will pass.) First of all, let me tell you, that we had spent the entire morning looking at different furniture stores for living room furniture. We saw some things we liked but neither of us were thrilled about anything. Let me modify that sentence: Neither of us were thrilled about anything WITHIN THE BUDGET. It’s funny to me that Kevin has so many opinions in home decor. Overall, I agree with his taste in furniture. He’s a pretty classy guy. This particular morning he was rather negative on all the furniture we saw. I was beginning to think he didn’t even like furniture at all! Upon entering the Bose store, however, his eyes lit up. Before our very eyes, there was a display set up with living room furniture. "I LOVE this couch!!," he exclaimed. "And, look at those chairs! Aren’t they cool?!" That, my friends, would be our luck. The ONE set of furniture in all of Sacramento that Kevin likes . . . is not for sale.

After leaving the delightful furniture, we decided to sit-in on the "theater show" in the next room. The show was already in progress. We stumbled in the dark to find our seats in the back row. I must say, the sound effects were rather impressive. Contrast was shown between a "regular" stereo system and a Bose system. A flat-sounding singer was made to sound like a live performance. It all turned hokey, though, when images where shown of people laughing and crying. "Our sound system will bring laughter, smiles, and tears to your home." Kevin started snickering, which is very uncharacteristic of him. We were both soon muffling laughter. I was afraid the attendant would come kick us out.

After shopping, we were sacked. (Hee hee.) We cut out a coupon allowing us 3 DVDs or videos for $0.99 each and went to the movie store. You know how sometimes you can end up spending more time trying to find a move to rent than you would spend watching it? Well, we decided against doing that and rented these movies: 1) The Godfather, 2) The Godfather II, and 3) The Godfather III. After we rented them, we realized that most of our non-working, waking hours the next week were going to be spent watching television. Although we didn’t believe this was a healthy thing, we decided to defy all notions of responsibility and do it anyway.

We watched all of the first one that night. It was a bonding experience, really. We spent most of our time shielding eachother’s eyes from the gross parts.

Looking for Solutions

Warning note: This blog is a little edgy (gross).

I decided to make cinnamon rolls to take to a staff meeting on Monday. I only had a short window of time to bake them yesterday and decided to do it quickly. To my dismay, upon reading the recipe, it called for two "room temperature" eggs. (You know, I really hate those advance preparation recipes! They just totally cramp my style.) I held the chilled eggs in my hands and realized that, unless I thought of something brilliant, I wasn’t going to have room temperature eggs for several hours to come. Suddenly I had an inspiration. I would microwave them! Kevin, however, strongly advised me against it. In a spirit of jest (and to get a reaction), I suggested Kevin place them under his armpits for about ten minutes - that would do the trick! Of course, he recoiled at the very thought. Trying to think of another solution (or get me back), he suggested I place the eggs in my mouth. !!!!???!!!! I’m sorry, but that just totally grossed me out. Do you not know where eggs come from, man? Nothing that touches the behind of a dirty chicken will dare enter the sanctity of my mouth.

Kevin said I wouldn’t have had time to bake them, anyway. He thinks I’m unrealistic when it comes to time allocation. You know what? He’s probably right. He usually is.

Logical Sense

K: I am a very logical person.
A: Most of the time. Not always.
K: Like when? When have I not been logical?
A: (not really able to think of anything) Today, for instance.
K: What?!! What are you talking about?
A: Today there was something you didn’t make logical sense about, I’m sure.
K: (insulted) Well, I’m sure I made perfect logical sense every second of today.

Friday, November 14, 2003

What You Do

"It's not what you do, but how much love you put into it that matters." - Mother Theresa

Messed Up World

My friend, boss, co-worker, and co-conspirator Karen is so funny. She was listening to talk radio a few minutes ago and the issue of transgender operations came up. Apparently there is some guy who has decided that he wants to become . . . not a woman, but a cat. He wants to have cat skin and hair grafted into his own skin, and the whole works. I gave Karen a sound bite on the issue and she, being bold and loving controversy, decided to call in about it. Talk show people love Karen because she is so passionate, articulate, and quick to answer. She pretty much ALWAYS gets on air when she calls in. When they put her on the air, I listened in from the next room. They talked to her for like FIVE minutes. Funny.

After she was done ranting about the issue, the show hosts announced that the next topic of disscussion will be the Victoria Secret fashion show. Apparently some people are paying up to $12,000.00 to attend the show. The show will feature a model wearing an $11 million dollar bra.

What is this world coming to?

Late Bloomer

Well, well, well. We are very pleasantly surprised to see that Sacramento hasn't disappointed us. It just procrastinated a bit. Beautiful fall colors have almost suddenly unfolded. Most of the colors seem to be "rusty" (burnt orange and red, and deep purples) but many of them are bright and vibrant. In fact, there are several trees in our apartment complex that are gorgeous - bright reds and yellows. Kevin says one of them looks like a "big stick" popsicle - red on the top, orange and yellow on the bottom. Incredible! Kevin says we need to get pictures so that all our friends "back east" will believe us.

Question of the day: Why do they call them "back east" and "out west," respectively? (I really don't know the answer, by the way.)

Thursday, November 13, 2003

Timing it Right

We have this offensive, beastly dog next door that barks and yaps incessantly in the evening and early morning when you are trying to sleep. I usually don’t hear it when I’m already sleeping, but it typically wakes up Kevin. Up to this point, we’ve been tolerating it. Anyway . . . you know how I told you about our "Apartment Nazi" (manager), Pam, and how she moved into the apartment next to us? Well, one "positive" aspect of her move, we hoped, was that she would figure out a way to deal with the dog next door. Last night the dog was being especially annoying. Kevin and I were in the kitchen. He turned to me and remarked, "I wonder if Pam is going to yell –" At that exact moment we heard this shrieking, deep (Pam) voice yelling "SHUUUUUUUTTTTT UUUUUPPPPPPP!!!!!" It was classic and it was awesome!

Well, we’ve finally finished our budget. I feel like Congress, or something. This morning, while carpooling to work, Kevin and I were talking about it. He said, "I feel so relieved to have our budget done!" I replied, "Me too. And, it wasn’t even that painful." (Neither of us threw anything at eachother. No tears. Nothing!) "It wasn't even that BAD." At that exact moment, we said in unison, "Well, not YET anyway!" This is true. Everything is merely theoretical at this point.

Wednesday, November 12, 2003

Oh! By the way . . .

Kevin commented this morning on how my hair had natural red highlights in it, which were revealed by the sun.

A: See, I WOULD look good if I dyed it all red.
K: That's not what I said.
A: But, God created my skin so it looks good with red tones in my hair.
K: And God wants your hair to be the exact same color it is naturally (now).
A: But He made hair so we can PLAY with it. He allowed people to invent dye so we can have fun with it!
K: That's like saying God allowed men to create knives so we can murder people.

(I don't know how he always somehow manages to bring the topic of "MURDER" into our hair dye discussions!!! Exasperating!)

Culinary Experiments

I may not be the best cook in the world but at least I try. I’m the type of person who hates to measure things, always substitutes ingredients (including things that seem essential), and I love trying out NEW recipes. With all that, you’d think I’d have constant disasters at every turn but, actually, I’ve been pretty lucky. Recently I found a Chik-fil-A chicken sandwich recipe online. My mouth instantly watered, excited about the prospects. The recipe required frying the chicken, which I had never done. I learned several new lessons last night: 1) don’t estimate the temperature of oil, 2) oil heats up very quickly, and 3) oil will blacken and shrivel-up your chicken in seconds if it’s hot enough. When I threw the chicken in the pan, smoke almost instantaneously filled our kitchen, the smoke alarm went off, of course, we rushed around like mad hens to open all the windows and doors. It was all very comical, really. I’m glad Kevin had a sense of humor about it! The amazing thing is that we managed to salvage a few pieces of chicken and have dinner at home! And, my word, it was good! (Even though it was charred on the outside, it was quite tender on the inside.) I’m already looking forward to trying to make it again . . . maybe tomorrow?

The moral of the story is: never, never give up. Oh, and, it helps when you follow instructions (even though it’s not very fun to be rigid about it!).