Family Picture
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Phobia! Part 4
5. Throwing Up – I know I am not alone in this one…I guess you can say that everyone hates throwing up, but some of us fear it more than others. I am the type of girl that would rather stay sick than throw up to make my stomach feel better…I just hate losing control of my body...and then there is the taste, of course (sorry, that was gross!) This is one of the things I fear most about pregnancy…I just have this feeling (a sick feeling!) that I will have one of those throwing-up-every-morning type of pregnancies and my life (and Kevin's!) will be horrible for three months (if not more). Thankfully, morning sickness should cure me of my fear of throwing up (not my hate of it…that is impossible)and I will be able to vomit like a real woman for the rest of my life!
Phobia! Part 3
4. Scary Movies – The other day I was with some of my girlfriends and all of us came to the consensus that we hate scary movies! No, this isn’t really a fear, but somewhat related. I hate scary movies for the following reasons:
- I go to see movies to relax and be entertained, not sit on the edge of my seat with my face shoved into my husband’s chest and holding my ears
- I remember all of the scary images and when I am alone at night in the dark I think of them and freak myself out
- I always have nightmares
- I don’t pay money to be scared!
Thankfully, now that Kevin and I are happliy settled into married life, I don’t feel like I have to see all of the scary movies with him and instead send him to the theatre with his guy friends…he gets to spend time with the guys and I don’t have to have nightmares for a month just to make him happy (it is amazing what we girls do for the boys we love!)
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Phobia! Part 2.5
Or how about airplanes! I could go on and on about how gross airplanes are! Maybe it is because I fly fairly regularly (several times a year...tomorrow, in fact!) that I notice and think about yucky airplanes. Have you ever sat down in a seat on an airplane and felt that warm, been-sat-in-by-thousands-of-butts feeling, which then leads you to think about what the other thousands of passengers that sat in that seat did to it? The passengers that got a little airsick, the passengers that needed to use the restroom while the seatbelt light was on and didn’t quite make it, the crumbs, the gum stuck inside every crevice of the seat, etc, etc and on and on! Maybe you don’t think of those things, but I sure do!
And then the whole issue of the smell of the air! Oh, putrescence! [Author’s note: name the movie from which I first learned that word! Hint: very quotable 80’s movie starring a love sick puppy turned pirate and Sean Penn’s ex-wife] The stale smell of the recycled air makes my stomach churn every time I board a plane. The only thing that helps me overcome that nausea is the thought that I am so happy that I am on the plane and not sitting in the airport waiting to board. From one that has spent the night in the airport a couple of times now and other countless hours waiting to board the blessed plane, the “putrescence,” as it were, is sometimes a welcome sign of progress to my final destination.
Another thing that gets me every time I fly is the headrest of the seat…what if the passenger before me had dandruff, or worse—LICE!! From a girl who escaped lice when my little sister brought it home in elementary school and then proceeded to share it with two of my other siblings, I am not about to get lice from an airplane! You might think me paranoid, I mean, who has lice nowadays? But I prefer to say I am cautious. You may now ask what I do to protect my perfect scalp from an infestation while flying and then you would be surprised to find out that I don’t do anything! I just sit there and cringe inside! It is the same with movie theatre seat headrests…I don’t want to look like a germophobic freak by putting something over it, so I just try to forget about it and watch the movie.
[Author’s note: I would like to report that writing this post was very therapeutic for me and while I cringed the entire time, I think it was, in the end, helpful. Additionally, my efforts to hold back on my impulses to protect me from germs are helping me overcome my preoccupation with them and I am now able to repress a lot of my inner cringes. Pat on the back, with a freshly washed hand of course, for me!]
And then the whole issue of the smell of the air! Oh, putrescence! [Author’s note: name the movie from which I first learned that word! Hint: very quotable 80’s movie starring a love sick puppy turned pirate and Sean Penn’s ex-wife] The stale smell of the recycled air makes my stomach churn every time I board a plane. The only thing that helps me overcome that nausea is the thought that I am so happy that I am on the plane and not sitting in the airport waiting to board. From one that has spent the night in the airport a couple of times now and other countless hours waiting to board the blessed plane, the “putrescence,” as it were, is sometimes a welcome sign of progress to my final destination.
Another thing that gets me every time I fly is the headrest of the seat…what if the passenger before me had dandruff, or worse—LICE!! From a girl who escaped lice when my little sister brought it home in elementary school and then proceeded to share it with two of my other siblings, I am not about to get lice from an airplane! You might think me paranoid, I mean, who has lice nowadays? But I prefer to say I am cautious. You may now ask what I do to protect my perfect scalp from an infestation while flying and then you would be surprised to find out that I don’t do anything! I just sit there and cringe inside! It is the same with movie theatre seat headrests…I don’t want to look like a germophobic freak by putting something over it, so I just try to forget about it and watch the movie.
[Author’s note: I would like to report that writing this post was very therapeutic for me and while I cringed the entire time, I think it was, in the end, helpful. Additionally, my efforts to hold back on my impulses to protect me from germs are helping me overcome my preoccupation with them and I am now able to repress a lot of my inner cringes. Pat on the back, with a freshly washed hand of course, for me!]
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Phobia! Part 2.0
2. Germs! – I have a minor case of germophobia, and where do you find germs? Public places…and where do you find a lot of germs? Arcades. They just simply gross me out. I feel dirty while I am there and just have this unquenchable impulse to feverishly wash my hands over and over until they are clean and sterile. Does that sound a little OCD? I promise, I am not OCD, I just cannot stand the thought of touching an arcade joystick that has probably never been cleaned and has been sneezed on and handled by unhygienic, sweaty and pimply teenage boys that haven’t showered in days, no less washed their hands. I know that arcades are somewhat a thing of the past, but I promise they still exist and people still frequent them. When Kevin and I first started dating, I think I almost ended our relationship when he suggested going to the local nickelcade (talk about a cheap date! Then, I guess, if you knew Kevin, you would think it appropriate!) and I refused to go for the pathetic reason of it grossing me out. Thankfully, I had other things going for me (great personality, cute face, great smile, big brain…I mean, what can I say!) or that would have been it!
I guess I should rephrase that I am not a real germophobe, like I said, I have a minor case…I just get really grossed out by certain things and I am really trying to overcome it. For example, I am not the only one that is grossed out by shopping cart handles! It is people like me that got the grocery stores to provide sanitizer wipes…now even Wal-Mart carries them! I can say, however, that as part of my germophobic therapy, I don’t use the sani -wipes in the grocery store…I cringe every time I clasp the handle as shivers go speeding down my spine, but I walk strongly on knowing that I am slowly, one shopping cart handle at a time, overcoming my germophobia.
This one goes hand in hand with toilet seat covers in restrooms. Growing up in California, ALL restrooms had toilet seat covers and thus I always felt clean in even the dirtiest of restrooms…but then I moved to Utah. In Utah, toilet seat covers, my safety net from the who-knows-what that is on a toilet seat, were nowhere to be found and it was the first time in my life that I had to make the decision between creating my own out of three strips of toilet paper, or (gasp) going without! For the first year of my residency there, I had the routine of placing toilet paper on the seat to protect my precious bum from the terrors lying in wake to attack me while I do my business. But then I met Kevin…and Kevin freed me from the mental germy psychosis that kept me from simply sitting down. Kevin taught me that you cannot get sick from sitting on a toilet seat (although that is not what was really keeping me from baring it…I just think that everyone else’s bare bums are yucky and only mine is clean and sanitary!), that my desk has more bacteria on it than the human waste receptacle (true fact!), and that I am a weirdo by making such a big production out of going to the restroom. Not wanting to be a weirdo, I have since (gasp) gone without in many situations, except in places known for their horrid restrooms like Wal-Mart, McDonald’s, or gas stations, where I am pretty sure they NEVER clean.
[Author’s note: in Virginia they do not have toilet seat covers readily available in public restrooms and I have to admit that I am starting to revert to my old toilet paper ways!]
I guess I should rephrase that I am not a real germophobe, like I said, I have a minor case…I just get really grossed out by certain things and I am really trying to overcome it. For example, I am not the only one that is grossed out by shopping cart handles! It is people like me that got the grocery stores to provide sanitizer wipes…now even Wal-Mart carries them! I can say, however, that as part of my germophobic therapy, I don’t use the sani -wipes in the grocery store…I cringe every time I clasp the handle as shivers go speeding down my spine, but I walk strongly on knowing that I am slowly, one shopping cart handle at a time, overcoming my germophobia.
This one goes hand in hand with toilet seat covers in restrooms. Growing up in California, ALL restrooms had toilet seat covers and thus I always felt clean in even the dirtiest of restrooms…but then I moved to Utah. In Utah, toilet seat covers, my safety net from the who-knows-what that is on a toilet seat, were nowhere to be found and it was the first time in my life that I had to make the decision between creating my own out of three strips of toilet paper, or (gasp) going without! For the first year of my residency there, I had the routine of placing toilet paper on the seat to protect my precious bum from the terrors lying in wake to attack me while I do my business. But then I met Kevin…and Kevin freed me from the mental germy psychosis that kept me from simply sitting down. Kevin taught me that you cannot get sick from sitting on a toilet seat (although that is not what was really keeping me from baring it…I just think that everyone else’s bare bums are yucky and only mine is clean and sanitary!), that my desk has more bacteria on it than the human waste receptacle (true fact!), and that I am a weirdo by making such a big production out of going to the restroom. Not wanting to be a weirdo, I have since (gasp) gone without in many situations, except in places known for their horrid restrooms like Wal-Mart, McDonald’s, or gas stations, where I am pretty sure they NEVER clean.
[Author’s note: in Virginia they do not have toilet seat covers readily available in public restrooms and I have to admit that I am starting to revert to my old toilet paper ways!]
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Phobia! Part 1
I saw recently on my friend Kendra’s blog, a “tag” posting about her fears, joys, obsessions, etc and it got me to thinking about my own fears. Fears can be an interesting thing – sometimes they are created over time through experience, sometimes you are born with them, and other times people purport to have a certain fear in order to get attention. I have seen and heard this time and again. Have you ever been to a fair, carnival, or even a circus and sat behind some annoying teenage couple and heard the gum chewing, hair twirling girl say to her pubescent boy toy that she is “like totally afraid of clowns” and just wanted to kill yourself? From experience, I can say that most people that state they are afraid of clowns are usually just teenage girls looking to get attention from the opposite sex for having a cute and quirky fear that is fun to talk about and gets the idiot boy’s sympathy for her seemingly innocuous yet endearing phobia. I will concede that some people, perhaps people that as young children accidentally wandered into a playing of the movie “It,” are truly and incurably afraid of clowns, but for the most part, I think that exclaiming you are afraid of clowns is just part of the ubiquitously flirtatious dialogue that teenagers spout. [Author’ note: I just looked up clown phobia in Wikipedia and I would like to issue an apology to all of you that are diagnosed with Coulrophobia…if it has a cool Latin name, it must be real!]
Well, enough about other people’s fears, I would like to present to the world, my own fears (some quirky and some serious) in no particular order [Author’s note: in the editing process of this post, I realized that it has gotten a little long and will be further separated into several posts, and as such, only the first of my fears will appear in this post]:
1. Expired Milk – I know that Jerry Seinfeld did a bit on expired milk (what DIDN’T he do a bit on?) in which he talked about not taking chances with expired milk…as if the date stamped on the carton could actually tell you the exact second that the milk was no longer safe for human consumption. I am a total believer in the date on the carton – you do not even THINK about drinking milk past that date! It is as if God himself gave all of us a warning against yucky chunky milk and we need to obey the date! My husband, on the other hand, uses the sniffing method for determining milk expiration…a week past the expiration date, if it still smells okay, he’ll actually drink it! I mean, I have tried this method and I swear that milk always smells funky! He tells me that my mind does this to me and the yucky smell is in my head (and from the smell of the rim of the carton, where you put the lid on), but maybe, just maybe, I have milk expiration psychic powers and the smell is a sign that you just don’t drink it! I mean, really, why chance it? I have a really finicky stomach anyway and I just don’t chance things like expired milk. If Kevin’s stomach weren’t built to withstand a nuclear holocaust (seriously, the man can eat raw chicken and not get sick!) maybe he wouldn’t be so gung-ho about drinking the milk either! 
Well, enough about other people’s fears, I would like to present to the world, my own fears (some quirky and some serious) in no particular order [Author’s note: in the editing process of this post, I realized that it has gotten a little long and will be further separated into several posts, and as such, only the first of my fears will appear in this post]:
1. Expired Milk – I know that Jerry Seinfeld did a bit on expired milk (what DIDN’T he do a bit on?) in which he talked about not taking chances with expired milk…as if the date stamped on the carton could actually tell you the exact second that the milk was no longer safe for human consumption. I am a total believer in the date on the carton – you do not even THINK about drinking milk past that date! It is as if God himself gave all of us a warning against yucky chunky milk and we need to obey the date! My husband, on the other hand, uses the sniffing method for determining milk expiration…a week past the expiration date, if it still smells okay, he’ll actually drink it! I mean, I have tried this method and I swear that milk always smells funky! He tells me that my mind does this to me and the yucky smell is in my head (and from the smell of the rim of the carton, where you put the lid on), but maybe, just maybe, I have milk expiration psychic powers and the smell is a sign that you just don’t drink it! I mean, really, why chance it? I have a really finicky stomach anyway and I just don’t chance things like expired milk. If Kevin’s stomach weren’t built to withstand a nuclear holocaust (seriously, the man can eat raw chicken and not get sick!) maybe he wouldn’t be so gung-ho about drinking the milk either!
Monday, April 21, 2008
Hello all! This is Kevin’s maiden voyage of posting. After some gentle spousal prodding I have decided to join blogapalooza and let the world know what I am doing and what I think. Of course, I have been heavily engaged in the latter all my life, but with the pragmatic limitations associated with the height of my current soap box and an inability to have my voice carry to all those who might be benefited, I am grateful to enlist this medium and exploit the malleable minds of those willing to read on. Just kidding. I’m really not arrogant and this really isn’t going to get preachy, I just needed a catchy introduction.
Although admittedly late, recently Leslie and I have discovered a delightful world where one can find beauty all around you, where dreams do not die, but live on in one’s heart, where a burned out law student can find solace and simplicity in a world of uncertainty. No, I’m not talking about a Barack Obama rally; rather, I speak of Guitar Hero.
Guitar Hero provides one the opportunity to live out frustrated 80’s related fantasies, to stand in one’s living room and revel in the glory of stardom and to have a mechanical voice tell you once and for all that “You Rock!” Guitar Hero is like a prepackaged drugs, sex and rock ‘n roll kit (just add drugs and sex).
Leslie and I recently discovered this proverbial golden goose after a visit to Leslie’s home for Christmas. Her older brother Mark had already recognized the benefit that a substantial and dedicated commitment to Guitar Hero could yield. We spent Christmas time learning at the feet of the master and shortly after returning home we acquired this game for ourselves. Since that time we have spent many an evening with the windows firmly shut and the blinds tightly drawn as we hone our nerdy and somewhat shameful craft.
Not to toot my own horn (toot, toot), but I have seen a return on my investment. I’m getting better every day. Of course, my new skill presents a conundrum I hadn’t expected to encounter—do I drop out of law school, dedicate myself to this full time and pursue it as a career, or do I let the man keep me down? For the moment, at least, I have decided to let the man keep me down (the man has actually been pretty good to me lately). In the meantime we wish you all success in whatever you may be doing. However, bear in mind that whatever success you enjoy in life, rarely will someone tell you earnestly and unequivocally, that “You Rock!”
Although admittedly late, recently Leslie and I have discovered a delightful world where one can find beauty all around you, where dreams do not die, but live on in one’s heart, where a burned out law student can find solace and simplicity in a world of uncertainty. No, I’m not talking about a Barack Obama rally; rather, I speak of Guitar Hero.
Guitar Hero provides one the opportunity to live out frustrated 80’s related fantasies, to stand in one’s living room and revel in the glory of stardom and to have a mechanical voice tell you once and for all that “You Rock!” Guitar Hero is like a prepackaged drugs, sex and rock ‘n roll kit (just add drugs and sex).
Leslie and I recently discovered this proverbial golden goose after a visit to Leslie’s home for Christmas. Her older brother Mark had already recognized the benefit that a substantial and dedicated commitment to Guitar Hero could yield. We spent Christmas time learning at the feet of the master and shortly after returning home we acquired this game for ourselves. Since that time we have spent many an evening with the windows firmly shut and the blinds tightly drawn as we hone our nerdy and somewhat shameful craft.
Not to toot my own horn (toot, toot), but I have seen a return on my investment. I’m getting better every day. Of course, my new skill presents a conundrum I hadn’t expected to encounter—do I drop out of law school, dedicate myself to this full time and pursue it as a career, or do I let the man keep me down? For the moment, at least, I have decided to let the man keep me down (the man has actually been pretty good to me lately). In the meantime we wish you all success in whatever you may be doing. However, bear in mind that whatever success you enjoy in life, rarely will someone tell you earnestly and unequivocally, that “You Rock!”
Intellectual Pursuits
Kevin and I graduated from BYU in April 2006...3 months later Kevin started law school and I started working. I work in an office where the most intellectual conversation I have ever had consisted of discussing the previous night's Office episode and comparing it to our own office existence (ps I love The Office)...probably the second most intelligent conversation was discussing the proper way to make tea (my boss is a big tea drinker!)...you get the picture! My job is simply not intellectually stimulating - and how can it be? I am an executive assistant...all I need to know is how to unjam the copier and teach my boss how to attach a document to an email!
In college, I always felt intellectually stimulated...I learned new things everyday, worked hard, read constantly and it made me feel good about myself. I was not wasting the brain that God gave me...until I graduated and all learning stopped. I blame myself - I let it happen, but I have vowed to get back on the right track and to continue what should be everyone's goal - to be a lifelong learner. I want to keep sharp, expand my vocabulary, and to always be finishing a book.
To jump start my return to academia and to my humanities/history major roots, I have decided to read/reread the complete works of Jane Austen. Kevin was kind enough to buy me a compilation of her 6 novels for Easter (thanks babe!) and while I have read Pride and Prejudice and Emma before, I am reading and studying all of her works in order as she wrote them, starting with Sense and Sensibility.
I am almost through reading about the Miss Dashwoods in Sense and Sensibility, and I plan on updating everyone on my conquest of all 6 novels. I have never been a fast reader, so please don't hold your breath for me to finish!
Wish me luck!
In college, I always felt intellectually stimulated...I learned new things everyday, worked hard, read constantly and it made me feel good about myself. I was not wasting the brain that God gave me...until I graduated and all learning stopped. I blame myself - I let it happen, but I have vowed to get back on the right track and to continue what should be everyone's goal - to be a lifelong learner. I want to keep sharp, expand my vocabulary, and to always be finishing a book.
To jump start my return to academia and to my humanities/history major roots, I have decided to read/reread the complete works of Jane Austen. Kevin was kind enough to buy me a compilation of her 6 novels for Easter (thanks babe!) and while I have read Pride and Prejudice and Emma before, I am reading and studying all of her works in order as she wrote them, starting with Sense and Sensibility.
I am almost through reading about the Miss Dashwoods in Sense and Sensibility, and I plan on updating everyone on my conquest of all 6 novels. I have never been a fast reader, so please don't hold your breath for me to finish!
Wish me luck!
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