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Three years ago today, I went on the hike of a lifetime, where the infamous JB proposed to me. Thank you, my love, for making my dreams come true.
Tonight, JB decided to make a milkshake. Here were the ingredients:
1. Vanilla ice cream
2. Milk
3. Organic wild blueberries (he was very specific about this)
4. Peanut butter
5. Scotch Whiskey (aged 12 years)
And as random and icky as that sounds, it really wan’t half bad.
This past weekend, I told JB that we should do something fun, as it could be one of our last weekends without a kid for a very, very long time.
“Let’s rent an excavator!” he exclaimed.
Not the fun I was thinking, but the man wanted to install a drain using heavy machinery, and who am I to steal his “fun”?!
I wanted to screw with the guys that were renting us the excavator, and have JB tell them that he needed it to move his giant pregnant wife around (since I went with him to rent it), but JB wouldn’t participate in that little practical joke. OK, I guess I don’t blame him… It would have been rather un-PC.
A few pictures from the project:
And the whole time, Tucker was excited to have a playmate (aka JB) in the backyard. He kept dropping his toy in the trench that JB was digging!
I’m usually the one in our marriage that is up on celebrity gossip. It’s a side effect of working online 40+ hours a week.
Anyway, last night, as we were watching the World Series (i.e. longest and most uneventful game EVER - 14 innings, people!), JB proudly states, “Guess who broke up?”
I had no idea.
JB: Jessica Simpson and Nich Lachey.
Me: Are you sure? That rumor has been flying around, but they’re denying it.
JB: Yes, I’m sure.
Me: I would have thought I would have heard something about that..
JB: Well, it’s true.
I shook my head, and of course, when I got online today, I searched around, and found that I was right — it’s still a rumor at this point, a rumor that is being denied by the celebrities’ camps.
It just makes me chuckle, though. JB was pretty proud to have some celebrity gossip of his own. Too bad it wasn’t right…
I mentioned last week that I had declared Date Night on Saturday. Between the moving and JB’s overtime and his band, there hasn’t been any quality time for us. I had begun telling him how much I missed him, but that wasn’t doing any good.
So, I asked my husband out on a date for Saturday night, and wouldn’t give him the slightest clue as to what we were doing.
I had planned to take him to dinner at a nice Italian restaurant, but house projects got in the way, and I decided to make scallops and pasta at home instead.
Of course, tearing the man away from his yard projects was like pulling teeth, making us very late to our first destination, the Siena Spa.
That’s right, I got us a couples’ massage. I swear every time I go to get a massage, I’m running late and end up stressing myself out over it.
Anyway, the massages were nice, despite the fact that JB was missing the masseuse from his last massage there, and I made the mistake of saying I could lay on my belly no problem. “I sleep on my belly every night still!” I proudly proclaimed. What I hadn’t realized is that when I sleep, I’m laying a bit on my side with the support of a pillow. During my massage, with my ankles bolstered up, I felt a ton of pressure on my chest, making it hard for me to breathe.
And of course, I was too shy to say anything about it. I walked into the massage with a sore lower back, and thanks to laying on my belly (completely not their fault), I left with a sore upper back. Oh well, lesson learned for next time!
Anyway, after our massages, we then headed to The Chocolate Bar, a place I’ve been wanting to try for ages. It is a cool little bar that combines the atmosphere of a bar, cafe, and a candy shop. We both got white chocolate drinks (his cold and alcoholic, mine hot and non-alcoholic) and truffles.
From there, we went to 3rd Street Blues, where we were delighted to find the band that played at our wedding reception as the band of the evening, Uncle Funkle. We sat and listened to a set of theirs, which was way more mellow than what they played at our reception, but still very enjoyable. Once they went on break, we strolled along the Truckee River Riverwalk until we came to EJ’s Jazz Cafe.
We found a delightful jazz quartet playing in EJ’s, and it made for a very romantic atmosphere. Mission accomplished — we once again felt like newlyweds instead of roommates doing a lot of house chores.
On Sunday, I had to surrender JB back to the house projects and band practice, but I learned my lesson… Complaining that we don’t get enough time together isn’t enough… Taking charge and declaring Date Night works!
Perhaps we’ll have to do a repeat this weekend, but this time JB has to plan the night!
One year ago today, JB and I left on our honeymoon to Italy. We visited Naples, Capri, Florence, Cinque Terre and Venice. Reminisce with me — click here, and then read the entries from the bottom up!
Happy Anniversary to JB, the love of my life! We celebrated by going to brunch at the country club where we had our reception, Thunder Canyon.
After brunch, we took a few pictures. I love this picture of us — the picture of wedded bliss!
And, here I am at 5 months (21 weeks) pregnant:
We have now been living in our new, two story house for five days. The master suite is on the first floor, and all of the other bedrooms and the other full bath are upstairs.
In our old house, which was literally half the size and one story, I had taken over the guest bathroom as my own. That way, I would get up before JB in the morning, quietly make my way out of the bedroom, and have the bathroom all to myself as I showered, listened to the radio, and got ready for work.
It was a nice set up, but I decided that once we moved into the new house, I would be using the master bathroom. Afterall, it is huge, and has two sinks and two sets of cabinets and two medicine cabinets.
However, there isn’t a door in between the master bathroom and the master bedroom. This means that I now have a constant observer and commentator in the mornings.
This morning, I took a shower and shaved. In our huge bathroom that doesn’t have a door, you can’t trap steam, meaning I get goosebumps, and have to wait for those to go away before I can shave.
I stepped out of the shower to the cries of my husband in bed, claiming that I had taken a 20 minute shower. This was an exaggeration, but still, it’s like the last veil of privacy has been removed, and we have to adjust to that.
It has been fun, too, though. We chat and joke with each other as we’re getting ready. Or, more specifically, as I’m getting ready and he’s laying in bed watching me.
This morning, the claim of a “20 minute shower” got quite the discussion going. I told him that there was no way I had taken a 20 minute shower, as I knew what time I got out of bed, and then I went to the bathroom, weighed five times, and then showered. Hence, it was more like a 10 minute shower.
“Weighed five times?” he asked incredulously.
So I had to explain to him how in this pregnancy, I weigh every Friday. The number is so hard to deal with that I can’t help but get on and off the scale numerous times until I get a repeat reading.
This had my husband laughing insanley at me, and I had to explain to him that as someone that has watched her weight her entire life, pregnancy is a hard pill to swallow, because it just feels like you’re on the fast track to obesity.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not dieting at all. I am trying to eat as healthy as possible, counting my calories so that I’m eating the exact amount my doctor prescribed, and I’m keeping up my workouts. This is all in the hopes that I will have a healthy baby and will be able to get back to my pre-pregnancy size (which of course, I wasn’t happy with anyway) as soon as possible.
Anyway, it is strange for me to have in depth discussions like that in the morning, as in the past, all we used to do is say goodbye to each other once I was ready to leave the house.
The next step in our marriage will be the sharing of the master closet. In our old house, I just used the extra bedrooms for my closets, because that husband of mine has a lot of clothes, and is very anal retentive about everything being in its proper place. My closets usually had clothes strewn all about.
But, now that we’re in the new house, I absolutely refuse to tromp upstairs to get my clothes every day, so we will be entering the uncharted waters of closet sharing. Lord help him.
So there are my uncensored thoughts of the day. This Sunday, we will be celebrating our one year anniversary. It’s hard to believe it has been a year, but look at us now — in a new home with a baby on the way. Oh, the difference a year can truly make! We’re planning on eating out at the country club where we had our wedding reception. I wish we could do more to celebrate, but that rock star husband of mine has a gig this weekend, and we still have to make a big dent in the unpacking project.
Well, our search for a new home has really opened our eyes to how competitive the housing market is in the Reno area. The waiting list for the home that we want is over 710 people long for 100 remaining homes. We’re told there is a 40-50% drop off rate, which would still leave us odd man out. You can wait up to a year on a list in Reno, and while that happens, the home prices go up and up and up. I recently heard about someone that was on a list for 8 months, and the home prices went up $80,000 in that time frame.
Luckily, my brother works in the industry, and just gave me a super hot tip that there is a new community planned in the area we want to live. I called the builder today, and they were very impressed that I even knew about this community, as it hadn’t been made public. Hence, we are on their ‘interest’ list now… Even if we can’t get the original home we signed up for, it’s nice to know that we’re way ahead of the game for the next development. Unfortunately, the homes probably won’t be completed until at least a year from now. Fingers crossed that they have a floorplan we like!
Meanwhile, I’m kicking myself for not buying the house I was looking at in August of 2003 for $150,000. That investment would have at least doubled by now…. Darn the luck!
- Hung out with my parents and niece on Friday night
- Went to see JB’s band perform, and helped intervene when a drunk guy started trying to pick a fight with the lead singer (my intervention was all behind the scenes - no worries)
- Stayed at a local casino resort Friday night after the gig. When we showed up at 1:30am, they upgraded us to a $500/night hot tub suite. Sweet!!!
- We slept in, and then enjoyed the hot tub in our room and the humongous shower. Felt like royalty!
- Went to hang out with my parents and niece, where I cooked everyone my trademark breakfast burritos. Yum!
- Looked at new houses in South Reno. I’m turning in the paperwork today to get on the waiting list! Woo!!! (Don’t get too excited — the wait will be about a year long.)
- Introduced the parents to thai food.
- On Sunday, I opted to let JB go pound the ski slopes one last time while I stayed home and took a nap, read a good book, and did a few house chores. It felt soooooo nice.
- Cooked up a Sunday dinner of rib eye steaks, potatoes and Shiraz wine, with strawberries and ice cream for dessert and Frank Sinatra playing in the background.
- Had a dream last night that I was on the Apprentice.
That just about wraps it up. And by the way, one year ago today, JB made me the happiest woman in the world by proposing to me. Here is the story.
While walking across the parking lot this morning, I had a flashback to our honeymoon…
Today, the weather was cold, grey and rainy. I walked by the Book Mobile, parked in our parking lot, and it was emitting lovely fumes as I passed it.
The fumes combined with the weather immediately took me back to Venice, Italy. I had to laugh that such a combination could bring back a good memory, but I was instantly transported to the bus station in Venice on our last day of our honeymoon when we discovered that the entire bus system was on strike.
You can read the whole story here. Ah, the memories…
On Sunday, the JB and I went to Kirkwood for some final turns in the 04-05 ski season. It was actually a cold day with snow flurries, proving you never know what to expect during Spring skiing. The resort had received about four inches of snow from the most recent storm, so the conditions were better than expected, with dust on slush.
For the past few months, JB has been all about searching out cornices and jumping off of them. As I’ve mentioned here before, after I injured my knee jumping off of a sizable cornice about three years ago, so I have refrained from following him to the cornice areas.
Yesterday was no different. At the top of Cornice Express, he found a few good ones to jump off of, then we headed over to The Wall, where he found even more cornices to entertain him. Each time, I’d ski down below the cornice and watch him jump off.
On our last chair ride up yesterday, we were discussing what run should be our grand finale for the season. To the right would be some challenging runs, but no cornices. To the left, the only way down is via a cornice.
“It’s your call,” he told me. And I thought about it…
As our skis touched the the ground at the top of the lift, I surprised him by saying, “let’s go left!”
Shocked, he looked at me and said, “what?!”
“Left!” I shouted.
“All right!” He exclaimed, and we both started to ski towards the cornice areas.
What he didn’t know was that the last time he jumped off a cornice on that run, I was checking out the cornice areas, and had spied a nice, managable cornice for me to try.
I skied right up to it, turned to him, and said, “I’m doing this for you!” I pushed off without hesitating, and continued to ski down the hill.
This was a big step for me, as I’ve been avoiding cornices like the plague for three years now. I also think that my ‘cool factor’ in my hubby’s eyes was raised significantly yesterday, as I redeemed myself for constantly turning down his invitations to go off cornices with him.
And on that note, we will hang up our skis for another ski season, barring any remarkable snow storms between now and May 1, that is. The 2004-2005 ski season was absolutely amazing. It was one of those years that people will be talking about for years to come.
For the past few weeks, every time I wear my brown loafers, JB will say, “you’re wearing your Platypus shoes”.
Of course, a conversation would then ensue with me asking if that means he doesn’t like my shoes, or if they look funny, and he always answers, “no, they just look like a platypus.”
These are the shoes (and I know they could use a good polishing.)
I just got an e-mail from JB saying, “now do you know why I call them Platypus shoes?”
He attached this image:
And yes, I now see why he calls them Platypus shoes.
I usually get my taxes done in plenty of time. But this year, I’m married to the world’s biggest procrastinator. We purchased Tax Cut to do our taxes, and know that the program will help us determine if we should file ‘married filing jointly’ or ‘married filing separately’.
I loaded the software on Tuesday night and tried to do my taxes, but if you’re trying to use the wizard that will tell you the best way for you to file as a couple, you have to enter your spouse’s information. And of course, JB wasn’t ready to do that yet.
Grrrrrrr…
We had planned to do taxes last night, but JB had to work late, so I’m hoping we’ll get them done tonight. If not, I can guarantee a lame Friday night for us tomorrow.
As I was getting ready for bed on Sunday, I was complaining to JB about how I was having some strange pains from my ski crash the day before.
“When I laugh, it hurts under my shoulder blade,” I said, pointing to exactly where it hurt.
“So, don’t laugh,” JB said, and for some reason, I found this to be the funniest thing ever, and crumpled over onto the bed laughing. Of course, this got him laughing, and then I was laughing because he was laughing, and man, did that really hurt my strange shoulder blade pain.
Luckily, that pain is gone now so I’m free to laugh again.
On Saturday, we went skiing at Heavenly, where we discovered Mott Canyon the last run of the day.
You see, we needed to leave early so that I could babysit my niece in Reno that night. Right about the time we should have started skiing back to the car, JB came across a gate that led into a double diamond run.
We pretty much have a rule of thumb that if there is a gate with a warning sign to enter a run, we must ski it.
So, even though I knew it could jeopardize our time schedule, I agreed to go check it out with him.
It was definitely the steepest stuff we had found at Heavenly, and I was bummed that we discovered it on our last run of the day. Now we have to go back!!! Half way down the steepest part of the run, we came across a man sitting with his skis off. We inquired if he was injured, and he said that he wasn’t, and that he just couldn’t make it down that hill so he was waiting for ski patrol to come bail him out. We then saw ski patrol at the top of the run, so we left him knowing he was in good hands.
But it must have hurt his ego when to have a woman ski right down that hill without hesitating!
Well, we got to the bottom of the run, and then saw signs for the chairlift pointing through the trees. The sign pointed left. JB went right.
So, there I was, going left on a little trail through the trees, and I’m screaming at JB, “Left! Left! Wrong way!!!” Next thing I know, I hit a huge hole, my ski tips dug in and I went flying face first into the snow. When I landed with a thump, both shoulders cracked, and I sat there trying to determine if I was injured or not.
When I determined that I wasn’t injured, I sat on my butt, and said the first thing that came to my mind, “Holy crap.”
I then heard JB calling me on the walkie talkie asking what happened.
I replied, “I was so concerned about you going the wrong direction that I didn’t see a hole in the snow and I did a face plant that ripped me out of both skis. I’m going to be a few minutes.”
JB was very entertained by all of this. This is what he said he heard, “Left! Left! AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
Once again, the things I do for love!
Anyway, we actually made it out of Mott Canyon and back to the parking lot right on time… Next time we go to Heavenly, we’re starting in Mott Canyon so that we can give it the proper attention!
Here’s a snapshot of the rest of the weekend:
- Babysat my niece Kacey on Saturday night and played with the puppy Rex, who’s ears are as big as my hand. Perhaps they should rename Rex to Dumbo.
- We skied at Kirkwood on Sunday. Only one chair was open due to the high winds. We managed to keep pretty entertained skiing on Cornice Express, and even ventured into the terrain park for a bit more entertainment. I think I caught about 6 inches of air on a jump! Woo! (for you non-skiers, that’s really unimpressive)
- Ate taco salad for dinner on Easter Sunday. It just seemed wrong, but tasted very good….
- I babysat my 6 month old niece, Kacey, again for the entire day on Monday. I got extra brave and ventured to the grocery store with her. Luckily, she was a little angel during our shopping trip, and I was amazed with how much attention she garnered.
- Worked out the kinks in my upper body (from the crash) by swimming 2000 yards in the pool.
After two and a half hours in the chair at my hair dresser’s, my hair is now fixed. Voila:
After taking about 20 self portraits of myself, I realized that I really suck at taking my own picture. JB is at band practice tonight, and I wanted to show all of you my new hair… I haven’t mastered the whole self portrait in the mirror thing yet, but that picture at least shows the hair.
I had my stylist weave in brown and blonde, and keep a bit of the red, so now I have tri-toned hair. I think it looks pretty good — much better than before.
And would you believe that the man that has laughed at my hair every day since I dyed it DID NOT EVEN NOTICE THAT I GOT IT FIXED?! I kept standing there smiling at him, and he said, “Why are you smiling at me like that?”
I sat there clenching my teeth into a smile, thinking, BECAUSE I JUST SPENT TWO AND A HALF HOURS GETTING MY HAIR COLOR FIXED! YOU ALSO DIDN’T NOTICE THAT I HAD ALMOST TWO INCHES OF LENGTH CUT OFF BECAUSE THIS WHOLE DYING PROCESS FRIED MY HAIR. AND I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT YOU DIDN’T NOTICE, THAT’S WHY!
He finally caught on. “Oh, you dyed your hair…. Again.”
“I was under the impression I got it fixed.” I replied.
“Oh, you got your hair fixed,” he said.
Men… They can be so oblivious! To think the whole reason I got into this mess was because of his liking for strawberry blonde hair! NEVER AGAIN, HUSBAND OF MINE, NEVER AGAIN!
Here is a picture of sad, sad me and my orange hair.
Well, putting Dark Ash Blonde dye over the Desert Sunrise (that I call Desert Atomic Bomb) resulted in a slightly less orange, but definitely still red hued look.
I figure I have to just live with this, as I don’t want my hair to fall out. I think I’ve done enough damage. At least I had the foresight to use a semi-permanent dye that will wash out in 28 washes.
27 more to go.
Reaction from the co-workers this morning:
“Your hair is orange.” Of course, when I cringed, she said, “or red.”
And from another girl, “I really liked your blonde hair better.”
One girl said she liked it, and that it brought out the red in my complexion.
Of course, another said that it made me look “splotchy.”
I keep reminding JB that my hair is a testement to my love for him, because I never would have experimented with red if it wasn’t for his keeness for strawberry blonde hair.
I’ll post a photo later. My camera battery is dead right now…
JB has a thing for strawberry blonde hair. It was time to dye my hair again, so I decided that this time I’d try to achieve that strawberry blonde color.
I picked up a package of Herbal Essences Desert Sunrise. The woman’s hair on the package looked absolutely beautiful. I was certain that I, too, would look beautiful with that hair color.
As I started putting the dye on my hair, I shouted out from the bathroom, “I’m doing this because I love you.”
I should have realized that something was wrong when the hair dye looked purple on my gloved hands.
But I went ahead, and once I rinsed and dried my hair, it was an absolutely horrible shade of orange.
ORANGE!
It was more like a desert atomic blast rather than a desert sunrise.
But hey, dying your hair red is the new trend for bloggers, right? (Example 1 and example 2.)
Here is evidence of a hair dye job gone wrong.
I am currently in the process of dying my hair back to its original color, dark ash blonde. Let’s hope that it works….
This is a really catchy song that describes married life pretty well…
Living Together by Amy Dalley
Pay the bills
Cut the grass
Someone forgot the trash
All the talks we’ve had about the toll that we saved
A few anniversaries, fights and apologies
Sometimes what love needs is a good refereeI’m his best friend, I’m his roommate
I’m his partner, I’m his wife
He’s my standard date for dinner
That stays over every night
Being married ain’t the struggle
You could stay that way forever
The hardest part is living togetherStack of plates
Whose turn is it anyway?
That frozen chicken ain’t gonna cook itself
How much did that cost?
Who forgot to walk the dog?
One’s about to freeze to death
One’s about to meltI’m his best friend, I’m his roommate
I’m his partner, I’m his wife
He’s my standard date for dinner
That stays over every night
Being married ain’t the struggle
You could stay that way forever
The hardest part is living togetherIt’s beautiful, it’s ugly
It’s passionate, it’s ‘don’t touch me’
It’s being stubborn, it’s giving in
Wakin’ up to do it all againI’m his best friend, I’m his roommate
I’m his partner, I’m his wife
He’s my standard date for dinner
That stays over every night
Being married ain’t the struggle
You could stay that way forever
The hardest part is living together
My favorite part is “One’s about to freeze to death
One’s about to melt” — that is us every night!
I’m now inspired to tell all of you why I am so tired today, and why I’m sipping on coffee instead of my normal caffeine free tea.
I have become one huge worry wart. That’s it.
You see, after I left JB’s gig last night around 10:00, on my 50 minute drive home, I had this overwhelming sense of women’s intuition that something bad was going to happen to him on his drive home.
My women’s intuition can be right-on at times. In fact, I had a dream that my sister-in-law was pregnant when she was only 4 weeks along and hadn’t told anyone. My women’s intuition told me that JB was the one.
Granted it has been wrong, but I try to listen to it. So when I got this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach last night as I pictured JB’s drive home at 2:30 am amongst all of the St. Patrick’s Day revelers, I felt like it shouldn’t be ignored.
Even though I thought my hubby might think I was being a freak, I called and left him a message on his cell phone, telling him about this feeling, and urging him to be extra careful on his drive home. I also asked him to leave his cell phone on, because I wanted to be able to get a hold of him if I woke up at 2 am and he wasn’t home.
Now so that you all don’t think I’m a complete freak, one of JB’s former band mates died in a car crash on his way home from a gig. I think I have a right to be concerned… JB worked yesterday from 8-5, then played in the band from about 8pm-2am. He’s then supposed to drive 40 miles home.
This is all such a new experience for me. I have all of my hopes and dreams wrapped up in this man, and it is my biggest fear that something will happen to him. Hence my paranoia.
I slept fitfully last night, waking up on the hour every hour. Finally, at 2 am, I woke up for the last time, and decided to call JB’s cell phone.
It went straight to voicemail, and my imagination started working overtime. I pictured him on the side of the highway…
After about a half hour, I heard his truck door shut, so I went to meet him at the front door.
I enveloped him in a hug, so unbelievably relieved.
Of course, the man thought I was being a freak. Evidently his cell phone battery had died hours before, so he never even got my message.
Thankfully, last night, my women’s intuition was way off. Unfortunately, that means that I couldn’t sleep until my man was safely tucked in beside me, so I’m really dragging today. I guess my consolation can be that he got even less sleep than me, so as tired as I am, he is moreso.
I have never been a worry wart, but now that I have someone in my life that is my everything, I’m sure this won’t be the last of my paranoia getting the best of me.
Ugh. I’m pitiful, aren’t I?
Here is a guest entry from the infamous JB:
The other morning, when we were getting ready to go ski, I heard a paniced cry. My first thought was that Lynnette had broken one of the ancient chinese antique figures. Luckily, that was not the case. The anguished cry was because Lynnette couldn’t find her “purple pants”. What are purple pants you ask? You mean you don’t own a pair? Purple pants are Lynnette’s favorite ski underwear, which actually include a top and bottoms. Of course, they are purple, her favorite color (don’t believe her when she says its red, I think its from exessive exposure during high school).
So we scoured the house in search of the holy purple pants to no avail. Lynnette was very, very sad. Then, several days later, out of the blue I heard screams of delight from the guest bedroom. My first thought was that Lynnette had tested postive for pregnancy. It was, of course, her beloved purple pants. They had been found, although I’m not sure where. Attached is a picture of Lynnette in her Purple Pants. This is how she weares her fleece. I keep telling her she has to stop gaping like that!
“Ready to ski in my purple pants!”
What is wrong with this picture?
Editorial note from Lynnette:
No, I’m not pregnant, first of all. Also, to explain these pictures, I had just gotten up from bed, and was still half asleep. I was trying to get dressed while maintaining a conversation with JB, and I didn’t even realize why JB was laughing at me until I went into the bathroom and saw myself in the mirror. I was wearing my fleece backwards. He thought this was so funny that we had to take a picture of it. I am so not a morning person!
This past weekend, JB and I decided to pay hommage to American presidents by searching out some fresh powder on the ski slopes.
We went to Squaw Valley USA on Sunday, and there was about a foot of fresh, yet heavy powder there to greet us.
JB is a great powder skier.
I am not.
Hence, it was with some trepidation that I followed him into the trees on our second run of the day. “Let’s go this way!” he enthusiastically proclaimed, and then he was off.
I tried to follow, and next thing I knew, I was lost, in way over my head (literally and figuratively), and having one heck of a time picking my way through the trees in the deep powder.
After what seemed like forever, I emerged from the trees completely away from the downhill ski area, and onto a cross country ski trail.
Lesson #1: Don’t venture into the trees on a powder day if you aren’t good at powder and don’t have a clue as to where you are going.
I could see a chair lift off in the distance, so off I went on the cross country trail in pursuit of that lift.
You should have seen the looks I was getting from the real cross country skiers as they passed me. I was definately out of my element.
From that trail, though, I got a view of three dog sledding teams taking off on a run. The dogs were so excited — barking and trying to run as fast as they could. It looked like a blast… Definitely on my list of things to try in the Reno-Tahoe area. Unfortunately, the dogs were moving so fast I didn’t get to snap a picture of them.
I then ran across a sleigh ride, and decided to snap a picture of them to document my scenic foray away from the downhill slopes of Squaw.
Mental note: I should make JB take me on a sleigh ride…
About 20 minutes after popping out on the cross country trail, I managed to get back to a chairlift. By this point, I knew I was on my own for a while, as JB was probably still enjoying tree skiing, so I headed to my favorite area of Squaw — KT22.
KT22 was named after an Olympic skier that did 22 kick turns down the face of that hill.
Here is a view from the KT22 chair:
I got to the top of the chair, unloaded, and then turned as I heard the lift attendant yelling, “What are you doing?!”
I saw that a snowboarder had not unloaded, and was sitting on the now stopped chair.
“I ain’t *bleep*ing going down that!” He proclaimed. Evidently, he had gotten scared on the ride up, and intended to ride the chairlift back to the bottom. I guess he missed the 10 or so signs at the bottom of the lift saying, ‘Experts only’, or ‘No easy way down’, or ‘This lift requires advanced skiing skills’. Had to chuckle at that a bit.
Lesson #2: They aren’t kidding when they say that a lift is for experts only.
This is the start of the hill under the chair that scared our poor snowboarder:
Anyway, the rest of the day was much more enjoyable for me, as I went down the wide open faces of KT22, where the snow had been tracked out a bit and I was able to ski a bit more in control.
On Monday, we headed to Kirkwood, where they had about a foot of new snow, and this stuff was light and fluffy. What a world of difference that made — I was actually able to ski through it!
Evidently, light fluffy powder makes JB think that he’s being filmed for a Warren Miller flick. I just served as his photographer.
(Note for my in-laws: he skied all of this with great caution — I promise!)
We topped off the day with a nice hot toddy in the bar, and decided that we had to go back to work so that our bodies could recover from two days of powder skiing!
This was our first Valentine’s Weekend as newlyweds, and we did it up, people.
It all started on Friday with wine tasting, where we sampled Zinfandel wines. Afterwards, we went to In N’ Out for dinner. The wine snobs would have been so appalled!!! Ha!
Saturday, JB and I ventured back up to Mt. Rose Ski Tahoe. It had snowed a few inches on Friday, so we were treated to what JB was calling ‘dust on crust’ conditions.
We went back to ski the Chutes, and honestly, I think I was getting a big ego because I had skied them so much last weekend.
But just when you start getting over confident, the Chutes will serve to knock your confidence right back down a notch.
That knock was a double diamond trail known as Detonatator. (See the trail map here.) I skied in there thinking I was tough stuff, and next thing I knew, I was on a really steep pitch, looking at about a 6 foot wide path between a rock and a tree.
Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.
I won’t claim that I got down Detonator with any style or grace at all… I had to take the pussy way out to get around that hairy part, but all in all, it was still a great time.
Anyway, we left Mt. Rose and headed into Downtown Reno for a night on the town. We had a lovely early Valentine’s Day dinner at Roxy’s. Mmmm….. Mushroom raviolis, lobster, and a bottle of wine later, we were ready for the magic show of Darren Romeo, presented by Siegfried & Roy. Darren Romeo is called “The Voice of Magic” because he sings his way through the magic show, and he has an incredible voice. Not hard on the eyes, either!
Here we are at Roxy’s… Notice the dog chef painting that observed our meal:
On Sunday, JB and I headed for Alpine Meadows. A storm happened to blow its way in, and at times, it felt like we were on an expedition to Mt. Everest instead of skiing… But, with the right clothes and a hunger for fresh tracks, skiing in a storm can be quite enjoyable.
Here is the chairlift, which looks like it was taking us up into the clouds:
Another view from the lift. Brrrrrr!!!!!
After skiing, we treated ourselves to a Couples Massage at the Cal Neva Resort Health Spa in North Shore. The massage room was overlooking the lake, so we enjoyed the sunset, and then some true pampering. We then hit the hot tub, and practically collapsed into our beds at the Cal Neva. Here are some pics:
Here’s me being a dork and taking my picture in the mirror of our room… Please forgive the helmet hair:
Here is the view from our room:
The thing I love about the Cal Neva Resort (besides the incredible views) is its rich history. The resort was owned by Frank Sinatra, and was frequented by the Rat Pack and the likes of Marilyn Monroe.
In fact, the resort is rumored to be haunted by Frank, Marilyn, and Sammy Davis Junior. I’ve heard some really freaky ghost stories about the place, and last time I stayed there, I hardly slept at all. But this time, I had JB to keep me safe, and I slept like a log.
I have to admit, though, when I woke up in the middle of the night, I made a conscious effort to keep my eyes closed… Just in case, you know…
I just finished making our reservations and plans for the weekend, and am SOOOoooooo excited! Here’s what is on tap:
Friday night — wine tasting
Saturday — ski at Mt. Rose
Saturday night — fancy dinner and a magic show
Sunday — ski at Alpine Meadows
Sunday night — stay at the Cal Neva Resort at Lake Tahoe, and have a COUPLES MASSAGE (Yes!!!)
I am so ready for this weekend to begin!!!
This time last year, I was hoping that JB was thinking about proposing to me. In fact, I had suspicions that I might get a ring for Valentine’s Day. Well, I got snow shoes, but luckily, a few months later, I did get that ring.
Here is the poem I wrote for JB last year. I was worried that the very last line in the poem was assuming too much, but fortunately it wasn’t.
To My Valentine
It’s you,
That I think of
Day and night
And long to hold me tight.
It’s you,
That makes my heart race
And keeps a smile
Upon my face.
It’s you,
That I see
In my dreams
And makes life feel
More perfect than it seems.
It’s you,
That I love
More with each passing day,
And to whom
I want to say ~
It’s me,
That wants to be yours
This Valentine’s Day
And forever more.
Written on February 14, 2004
As part of my New Year’s Resolution, I have been pecking away at fixing the mess otherwise known as my name change.
I started yesterday by going back to the DMV to get the titles/registrations for my two vehicles changed. I was already peeved because this was my second trip to the DMV to complete the name change, thanks to them not being specific enough on their website about required documentation.
I actually had to pay $20 per vehicle title to change the name on my title, which is required to change the name on your registration, which is required by law. But then, I discovered that the bank where I had my original car loan THAT WAS PAID OFF THREE YEARS AGO neglected to sign my title, and hence, I have to go back to the DMV for a third time once they send a letter releasing me of debt to them.
So today, I decided to tackle the social security office. If you recall, the NV DMV wouldn’t let me drop my first initial (as I go by my middle name), and hence how my name change got all screwed up. If you recall, it was a very lengthy process that would require hiring a lawyer and publishing your intent in the newspaper for three consecutive weeks. Bah! Too much work and effort! YOU WIN!
I waited for over an hour in line next to some REAL characters at the social security office, and when I got to the window, I told the man my situation:
“When I got married, I started here, and you let me change my name to Lynn3tt3 C00k B3llin (numbers used to fool the search engines). Then, I went to the DMV, and they wouldn’t let me do that without a court order, so I’m back to change my name to A. Lynn3tt3 B3llin.”
“You know there is an easy way to change your name, don’t you,” the clerk asked me.
I was not entertained. Perfect timing, I tell you.
“Oh, yeah,” he says, “you just go to the court building downtown, and pay them like $30, and they’ll process your name change for you.”
“That would have been nice to know before I waited an hour in line and changed my name at the DMV.” I stated, “I’m sick of all this buearocracy. Let’s just change it.”
“You shouldn’t let them win,” he tells me.
You know, I could sit here and waste a bunch more time fighting the system, but it just doesn’t seem worth it. I could go to the court house, then to the DMV, and then back to the social security office to get them all straightened out.
But I won’t. I’m going to let them win. I’m going to continue having a first name of A to the government and the state of Nevada. I’m going to continue to get calls for A and AL, and as much as that annoys me, I’m just going to deal with it.
I was amazed at the life details people were offering up to the clerks at the social security office. Here are a few exerpts:
Said by a middle aged man with a huge bump growing smack dab in the middle of his forehead: “Yeah, my girlfriend dumped me back in Vallejo, and I had to hitch hike for two days in the rain. My last ride dropped me off in Truckee, and I had to take the bus from there. I lost everything — my wallet, my cash… Hey, man, where is the closest bus stop?”
Said by a very white trash looking middle aged woman: Well, this is my last name on my birth certificate, but my Daddy died when I was 6 months old, so I took the name of my Mother’s second husband, and then I got married, but we just got divorced, so I want to change my name back to the name on my birth certificate. And I really want to go back to the city where I was born so that I can see what it is like.”
Said by the cute 20-something girl that was missing a front tooth and wearing a 49ers Harris jersey:“I don’t even like the 49ers, and I have no idea who Harris is. I just wanted a jersey, so I stoled it from my ex.”
There was also a young obese woman with a tracheostomy and an oxygen tank. Every few minutes, she would do this coughing/suffocating thing that made me wonder am I going to have to use my CPR skills, and gee, I guess you’d have to blow into the hole in her neck, right?
Ugh. Way too much time in the social security office today.
We had an unbelievable weekend. We kicked it all of on Friday at wine tasting with two of our good friends. This was our fourth Friday at wine tasting, and we have met the nicest, really fun people there. It’s like we’re actually starting to have a social life… Or something…
After wine tasting, we went out to Thai food with our friends, and it was absolutely delish.
Saturday, we hit the slopes. It had snowed 2 feet in the mountains on Friday, so we were greeted by blue skies and epic snow. It was amazing, really. There were fresh tracks to be had everywhere.
Saturday night, we made up a dinner of steaks, garlic mashed potatos, and red wine, of course. We then went to bed early in preparation for another day of skiing.
The snow was more packed on Sunday, but we kicked off our skis and hiked to find some untracked powder. The wind was blowing 60 miles per hour over the ridges, making it feel like we were on a Mt. Everest expedition when we got off the chair lift. However, the wind served to blow the fresh snow up the mountain, making what I was calling wind packed snow… Untracked, and as soft as baby powder. I was in heaven, I tell you. After skiing on Sunday, we hit the bar for some hot toddies, which really hit the spot.
The only problem with skiing both days on the weekend is that Monday mornings tend to be more painful. I was extremely tired, ready to crawl back into bed the entire day.
And now, I have to ski today and tomorrow for work. Life is tough right now. Really tough, I tell you.
Ha!
I’ll post pictures of our skiing outings as soon as I get around to it.
This weekend, I…
- Went to a wine tasting with my hubby, where we were introduced to Meritage wines.
- Helped the hubby install much-needed gutters on the house. Now, the sidewalks that were icy danger zones are now dry. Very nice.
- Went out to see my favorite 80s cover band, Bad Intent. The followers of this band are so entertaining to watch. It’s like they all stepped right out of the eighties, from their mullets and feathered hair and 80s outfits to their 80s dance moves. Tres amusant!
- Went skiing at Kirkwood, where it was 50 degrees on the slopes. It was definite Spring skiing conditions, which isn’t such a good thing in the middle of January.
- Finished our honeymoon scrap book, and then reminisced with the hubby about our romantic adventure.
What did you do?
My #1 New Year’s Resolution this year is to fix the mess otherwise known as my name change.
It all got messed up when the DMV wouldn’t let me drop my first initial of A (because I go by my middle name), but the Social Security Department let me change my name to Lynnette Cook Bellin, because it seems that they truly wouldn’t care if I wanted to change my name to One Hot Babe.
I’ll need to go back to the Social Security office and change my name from Lynnette Cook Bellin (as I wanted it) to A. Lynnette Bellin (because the bureaucratic bastards got the best of me). Then, I can change my name at work from Lynnette Cook Bellin to A. Lynnette Bellin, and then finish off the process with changing my retirement accounts, frequent flier accounts, and my car titles.
Blek. It is amazing how messed up everything got in such a short period of time. I still can’t believe that the State of Nevada has me on record with a first name of A, and that it would take a court order to drop that A. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Like every year, Christmas flew by so fast that it almost seems like a dream. I had a wonderful first Christmas as a married woman, and truly enjoyed spending time with my in-laws. They make a big effort to make me feel part of the family, and they succeeded!
Christmas Eve was almost magical. After a scrumptious dinner of Chinese food, we went to an amazing Presbyterian church. It is so popular that people line up outside of the church to get in. They had a small orchestra, a huge choir, and tons of candles.
At one point in the service, we were asked to bow our heads and thank God for the blessings in our lives over the past year. I have been so unbelievably blessed this year that I had happy tears rolling down my cheeks as I thought of my husband, in-laws, the wedding, my nieces and nephews, and all of my family and friends. I had dreamed of spending the holidays with my soul mate for so many years that actually doing so was a big treat for me.
We took the three dogs with us to the in-laws’ house. For the most part they were good. One of them decided to tip over a flower pot and dig up the plant that was in the pot. JB and I discovered this, cleaned up the mess, only to find that the same pot was tipped over and the plant that was in the pot was dug up the next day.
Remembering that my obedience instructor had once said that placing dog poop where the dog is digging will stop them from digging, I put on some gardening gloves, collected dog turds, and then placed them neatly all around the plant in the pot.
JB and I then went on a bike ride, and that is when my mother-in-law, the avid gardner, discovered the poop in the pot.
She was very perplexed at how one of the dogs had managed to poop so neatly all around the plant. It’s actually a rather funny mental image.
Anyway, that was good for a laugh.
And then, our pup Tucker turned into Houdini while we were visiting with my brother’s family in Folsom, CA.
Because they have a dog, and we had our three with us, we asked to put our three dogs in the side yard so that they didn’t have to wait in the truck. Putting them in the side yard would ensure that that they wouldn’t disturb my brother’s dog.
Or so we thought…
While we were eating dinner, we kept hearing a knocking noise. After a few minutes, Jane said ‘I swear there is a dog in the laundry room.’ My brother’s dog, Clyde, was standing close to the laundry room door with his ears perked.
I got up to check, and the minute I opened the laundry room door, Tucker’s black nose poked out to greet me. This was very exciting for Clyde. Tucker had evidently discovered the doggie door into the garage, and we then assumed that he had pushed an unlatched door open to get into the laundry room.
After a good laugh, I put him in the garage again, made sure the door was latched, and went to sit down. About 10 minutes later, we started hearing that knocking noise again. Sure enough, Tucker was back in the laundry room. He had evidently figured out how to use their door knobs, which are handles (not round knobs).
So then I put him in the side yard, locked the door to the laundry room just in case, and about two minutes later, we saw Tucker’s face peering through the glass door in the back yard. He had somehow figured out how to open the gate into the back yard, and came around to greet us. Of course, he let the other two dogs out in the process, so we had our three black dogs staring down my brother’s dog through the glass door. Eventually, someone had the bright idea to put a few chairs in front of that door and drape a blanket over it so that the dogs couldn’t see each other. Try to get around that, Houdini Tucker!
So those are the dog stories.
Now for a wine story. My husband is getting very into wine, so we went to a local California beverages store called Beverages and More. Evidently, everyone calls it BevMo.
We spent A LOT of time in BevMo. Most of the time, I just wandered around, waiting for JB to make his selections. I then met him at the cash register when he was ready to check out, and my eyes bulged when I saw the total cost of that little excursion.
I was in shock as JB said he wanted to double check the receipt. We stood by the door of the store, and that’s when JB noticed there was a $297 item on our receipt.
After inquiring about that item, it was discovered that the cashier had keyed in a wine glass sku wrong, and had keyed in the sku for a $297 bottle of Opus 1, which evidently is a VERY GOOD bottle of wine. The store was jam packed so it took a while to get a credit back, but we had a good chuckle about ‘buying’ such an expensive bottle of wine.
So those are the funny stories of the weekend. Other than that, it was just another enjoyable holiday weekend, with staying up late and sleeping in, eating a lot of wonderful food, family time, and a few bike rides and runs thrown into the mix.
I hope all of you were as blessed as we were.
Christmas continues tonight, as we’ll be celebrating tonight with my parents, brother and sister-in-law and niece, Kacey.
I came home tonight and felt the needles on the new Christmas tree, and the entire branch full of needles fell off in my hand. We had yet another dead Christmas tree on our hands.
After dinner, I took the tree back to the lot and requested my money back. I then decided to go to Costco to get a fake tree. I think we’re just not meant to have a real tree.
Of course, Costco was out of fake trees, so I opted to just pick up some photos I had developed there. In with my photos were two rolls of photos of buffalos. That’s right, buffalos. Not my pics.
It was 8:30, Costco was closing, and they had tried to charge me for two rolls of buffalo pictures in addition to my pictures. It took over 20 minutes for them to track someone down and adjust the price. I can’t tell you how many people asked me if I wanted to keep the pictures of buffalos.
I then went to Lowes, where I discovered that fake trees cost a good $200, so I came home empty handed.
I then vaccuumed (for the fourth time since Sunday) all of the needles up, and decided to put the Christmas tree lights on a palm tree house plant. When I got all of the lights on the tree, it leaned over droopily, so I decided the lights had to come off. While I was taking the lights off the house plant, I got a strong shock from a broken bulb’s fuse, which made me scream. I ended up sitting on the living room floor in tears.
It’s not supposed to be this hard. All I wanted was a real Christmas tree. When it was obvious that we couldn’t have a real Christmas tree, I decided to settle for a fake one. And I wasn’t successful with that mission, so I tried to make a houseplant a Christmas tree, and once again, I failed at that.
I give up. I’m getting out the 2 foot tall fake tree I’ve used for the past few years. I apologize in advance to my parents, who made the effort to Fed Ex me all of my childhood Christmas ornaments. They’ll have to wait for a year when karma isn’t working against me.
What could be more romantic than shopping for a Christmas tree with your new husband, putting it up and decorating it?
Many things, evidently. The quest for a Christmas tree to mark our first Christmas together has been one giant pain in the butt.
It all started on Sunday, when I declared that I really wanted to go Christmas tree shopping. Unfortunately, JB is still recovering from the flu, so we made it out to the Christmas tree lot when it was about 18 degrees, and the poor man couldn’t stop coughing.
Which means we were in a big hurry to just get a tree and go home. And that is what we did. I swear at the time, the tree seemed to be fresh.
We got home, and put the Christmas tree in the stand. And the problem, you see, was that the tree wouldn’t stand in that stand. JB then cut off the bottom limbs of the tree in an effort to make the tree stand up in the stand, and it didn’t work. What did happen was that there was a huge bald spot at the bottom of the tree.
So, my wonderful, sick husband volunteered to go to Lowes right around the corner and get a new stand. He was gone about 45 minutes.
When he came back, he informed me that Lowes was closed, so he had driven all the way to the other side of town to get a stand at Walmart. He picked out a stand, waited in line, and when it came time to pay for the stand, he realized he had forgotten his wallet at home.
Like I said, the man is sick.
So anyway, he drove all the way home, and I suggested that the closest grocery store, Smith’s, would have a stand. He then drove there, to find that the didn’t, so he drove another few miles to Rayley’s, that had a stand that cost almost as much as the tree.
At this point in the story, I must mention that I had vaccuumed that day.
JB finally got home with the new stand, and it worked (hallelujah!). We put the tree up, and I began stringing lights. I thought it was strange that there were so many needles falling off of the tree, but shrugged it off and vaccuumed after I was done.
I came home on Monday to JB saying the tree ‘wasn’t going to make it’. I shrugged him off, thinking he was just being negative because he didn’t feel well.
I then walked over to the tree, and saw a humongous pile of pine needles below it. I ran my fingers over a branch, and all of the needles fell off in my hand. The thing was deader than a doornail.
That was the point that I just got mad. I mean, setting up a tree was supposed to be all fun and romantic. And all it had done for both of us was cause a mess and make us grumpy.
Right about then, JB got a phone call, and I was a woman on a mission. I took the tree out of the stand, and threw it in the truck, and drove straight over to the Christmas tree lot.
At this point, it was about 8:00 pm and I still hadn’t eaten dinner. I’m not a pleasant person when I’m hungry. Just ask my husband.
I ranted and raved to myself the entire drive over to the Christmas tree lot, and prepared the speech I was going to give to them.
When I got to the lot, there weren’t any customers, and there was one guy there in a trailer with his dog. He was about my age, and came out with a smile.
And I guess I couldn’t really be the scrouge that I felt like, so I told him cordially that we had bought a tree from him the day before and that it was dead. He went to look at the tree, and apologized, saying that with the cold weather we’ve had lately, some of the trees froze, which killed them. Once you get them in a warm place is when you really find out if they died or not.
He then helped me pick out a new tree that supposedly had just been unloaded from the truck, and was in the middle of the pile of trees, so it shouldn’t have frozen. And hence, this one should live.
I brought it home, and we spent the next half hour vaccuuming and sweeping the horrendous amounts of pine needles left by the previous tree. When that was done, we put the tree in the stand, and we both decided that we had had enough ‘tree’ time that night, so we just let it stay in its undecorated state. Plus, I wasn’t keen on the idea of getting it decorated just to have the same thing happen to it.
So far so good. And let me tell you, people, our house smells like a pine scented air freshener BLEW UP inside. I guess that’s what happens when you get so many pine needles in the house and then vaccuum them up.
I think I’ll now take to decorating the tree in stages, as I’m pretty darn close to calling the whole Christmas tree project off.
I have to admit that the thought of a fake tree crossed my mind multiple times last night.
“Hey, babe, look at me.” I said last night.
JB turned around, and I started doing my best 80s dance moves.
“That’s the ‘I finished all the Thank You Cards’ dance!” I said as I danced around the living room.
Ding dong, the witch is dead! (The witch being the task of Thank You Notes.)
So if you are expecting a Thank You note from us, just know it’s in the mail.
People were extremely generous with us for the wedding. In fact, for a time, we weren’t sure we could fit all the presents in our house, but now thanks to the shed (which is now finished!!!), we have been able to make room for the important stuff! Yeah!
I kind of screwed myself when I told JB, “Why don’t you write Thank You notes to your people and I’ll write to my people?”
It sounded like a great plan, until I realized there were a hell of a lot more of ‘my people’ than his.
Oh well. At least he did his share. I’ve heard many grooms don’t!
Michael Jackson’s Thriller is playing on my LAUNCHCast Radio, which brought back memories of wedding planning.
You see, back in June or July, I asked JB what he thought ‘our song’ should be for our first dance at the reception. I secretly had my own choice, but wanted to see what he would say.
“Thriller.” Was his answer, as the man moonwalked across the kitchen.
“No, seriously, what song?”
“What’s wrong with Thriller?” He asked, harrassing me.
And so, it became a big joke between us. We even toyed with the idea of playing a snippet of the Thriller song to start off our first dance.
Seriously, how funny would it be to have the crowd expecting this romantic, serious song, only to have Thriller start playing and have us start moonwalking?!
Well, as funny as we thought it would be, that just turned out to be one too many details than I wanted to deal with, so the Thriller joke was sidelined.
But I don’t think I’ll ever hear that song again without picturing us dressed up as bride and groom moonwalking on the dance floor.
JB — 3 (as in 3 mice caught)
Tucker — 4 (as in 4 mouse traps destroyed)
It’s a close game, ladies and gents.
And it’s really sad that the most exciting thing I have to write about is mice.
Thanks for the comments yesterday on the mouse situation. I LOVE COMMENTS!
Tucker is in big trouble. The wooden shield that JB built for the mouse trap by the door didn’t even phase him. He moved it and destructed yet another mouse trap.
And now the other two dogs are getting interested in mouse traps. We caught both of them sniffing at the mouse traps last night. As JB says, they all think that mouse traps are a new kind of toy with peanut butter on them.
Fortunately, though, JB has caught two mice in two days, so despite Tucker’s efforts, there has been progress.
The score is now Tucker - 4 (as in 4 mouse traps destructed) to JB - 2 (as in 2 mice caught).
Looks like I’ll be heading back to Lowe’s soon for more mouse traps.
Last weekend, while we were in the midst of the shed project, we saw all three of our dogs come running around the corner chasing something. I caught a quick glimpse of a mouse as it ran under the fence.
Later that day, JB found mouse poop in the garage.
It was war.
JB set out some mouse traps in an effort to be proactive. Later that weekend, I noticed that Tucker had a new scrape on his nose, but I didn’t think much of it until we found a mouse trap torn to shreds in the garage.
Now I’ve heard of people using mouse traps as a training tool for their dogs. Put a mouse trap on a surface you don’t want the dog on, and when it snaps, the sound will scare the dog and it will stay away from the mouse trap.
Or at least that’s the theory. Tucker, on the other hand, must have gotten his little nose caught in the mouse trap. And then I think he got mad. Really mad. Mad enough to completely destruct the mouse trap.
As JB cussed, I picked up the pieces of the mouse trap, chuckling silently. I thought it was a bit humerous.
A few days later, we found a second mouse trap torn to shreds in the garage. Then, this past weekend, a third.
JB is getting really mad at this point. It’s man against rodent and dog. I keep telling JB that Tucker is an activist — he is protecting the mouse population, one mouse trap at a time.
JB doesn’t think that is funny.
So I headed out to Lowe’s and purchased six new mouse traps. I got a few extra because I knew there would probably be more destruction of mouse traps in Tucker’s future.
And there was. Despite the fact that JB locked Tucker outside while he placed the new traps, Tucker found one of them and quickly did his thing to it.
Upon discovering this, JB proclaimed a serious war. My engineer husband decided to build a Tucker shield for one of the key mouse trap placements (i.e. the place by the door that catches the most mice). After about a half hour, that mouse trap had a nice wooden Tucker cover.
Let’s just hope it’s Tucker-proof. If not, Tucker is going to be in big, big trouble.
Well, I apologize that I haven’t transcribed more of the honeymoon travel journal. Patience, please! I think I’ll have time to do more on that this weekend.
Yesterday, we had a surprise snow storm hit Reno and Carson City. I had mistakenly listened to the weatherman who had said that the snow levels would stay in the mountains, so I drove the Trans Am to work.
Let’s just say that my low-profile, rear wheel drive, manual transmission sports car is a horrible snow vehicle.
Around noon, the snow was coming down like crazy, and I knew I was in trouble for my commute home to Carson City. Luckily, my boss let me go early so that I could get home safely and finish working the day from home.
Oh, how I love working from home in my sweats and slippers with Oprah in the background.
This weekend would be prime skiing, but I fear we’ll be spending our time finishing the infamous shed. Helping JB build the shed has been an educational experience for me. I’m more of a big-picture person that isn’t concerned with details. I’m learning that he is big-picture, also, but LOVES the details. I didn’t know you could spend so much time ensuring a shed foundation is level. Yes, ladies and gents, I married an engineer.
Luckily, there were already three engineers in my family, so I had an idea of what I was in for!!!
On a separate note, I was informed that my Comments weren’t working, which explains why I haven’t received any comments in over a month. Anyway, they are fixed now… I went through a lot of effort to maintain the Comments feature while blocking out spammers, so please people, stand up and be heard! I NEED COMMENTS, DARNIT!
Oh, and one last note… I bought a plant at the grocery store today as a thank you present for someone at work. When I walked into the Marketing office with the plant, the immeidate reaction of my co-workers was, “Are you pregnant? You bought a plant - you’re nesting!”
Good golly, some people have a one track mind…
Maybe it’s because I’m now a wife, but the spirit of domesticity overcame me yesterday. After making my hubby breakfast, I sat down and looked over recipes, went grocery shopping, and then came home and made chili and cooked some chicken in the crock pot for enchiladas later in the week.
I then went outside and helped the hubby with the shed project, and after dinner of chili and salad, I baked up some yummy pumpkin chocolate chip bars. Half were for him to consume at work, and the other half, I brought in for the girls at my work. (None intended for me, as I try to burn off calories consumed in Italy.)
Meanwhile, I was handing out candy to trick-or-treaters. And it struck me as I was working in the kitchen while the trick-or-treaters were out that I really miss participating in Halloween. Even during college and for a few years after college, I got to go to some really fun Halloween parties. I really enjoy dressing up in a costume and seeing every one else’s costumes.
But since I moved to Nevada, I haven’t really hung out with a crowd that throws Halloween parties… So there I stood, washing dishes in my sweats with my hair wet from a recent shower, wondering when I got so domestic and grown-up.
Saturday morning, JB lept out of bed and opened the curtains. I assumed his excitement was for a day of skiing, as we had planned. The man never gets out of bed with such enthusiasm.
Oh, no, it wasn’t because we were going skiing. In fact, plans for skiing went out the window when the man decided it was time for a project.
“I think I’m going to build a shed.”
Which means, since I said “I do” to the man three weeks ago, that I also said “I do” to helping him on any projects he conceives around the house.
So instead of playing, I spent a few hours in Lowes and Home Depot, and spent quite a bit of time outside in the cold Fall weather digging and leveling and getting dirt under my nails.
Ah, married life.
My family has a strange tradition of having people go by their middle names. Hence, my first name is something I was never intended to be called.
I started calling myself A. Lynn3tt3 C00k (numbers used to fool search engines) in high school, and even got the DMV and the Social Security office to start calling me that.
I’ve had telemarketers call to talk to A, or AL. I’ve had computer forms call me Alynnette. I’ve even had junk mail come to me as Alynn3tt3 A. C00k.
The A confuses people and computers, and now that I’m married, I decided it’s time to drop the A when I changed my last name.
I was told to start the name change process with Social Security. They didn’t have a problem with dropping the A.
Then I went to the DMV, who told me it would take a court order to drop the A. But after waiting in the hellaciously long DMV line, I went ahead and got my new license as A. Lynn3tt3 B3llin.
So now, I am Lynnette Cook Bellin to the Social Security people, and A. Lynn3tt3 B3llin to the DMV. And I think this is really going to screw things up for me.
I called the court house to ask about the proceedure for getting a court order. I was told to find out myself by reading the Nevada Revised Statutes. After searching the damn statutes for 30 minutes, I’m no closer to knowing how to get the court order without calling an attorney.
Sorry, Mom and Dad, but this going by your middle name tradition will be ending with me. Somehow, some way I’m dropping the A, and I’ve decided just now not to pass the Curse of the A on to any of my children.
And no, I’m not pregnant. I’ve already been asked that question upon the return from our honeymoon. WE HAVEN’T EVEN BEEN MARRIED THREE WEEKS, PEOPLE!
Update:
Holy crap. The name change information from the court is 18 pages long. Here is the process:
Sign the Petition and the Verifications attached to the Petition in the presence of a Notary Public.
1. Make three copies of the Petition after it is signed and Notarized and staple the copies in “sets”. All the original pages in one “set” and the copies, pages 1 - 4 make up each other “set”.
2. Fill out, sign and date the “Civil Cover Sheet”.
3. Do not fill out the NOTICE, but make three copies of the NOTICE.
4. Take the Civil Cover Sheet, the Petition and the copies of the Petition and the Notice and the copies of the Notice to the Filing Clerk’s Office at 75 Court Street, Reno, Nevada, with your
filing fee.
5. The Clerk will file stamp the original Petition and the copies. The clerk will keep the original Petition and give you back the file stamped copies.
6. The Clerk will fill in the information on the NOTICE and the copies of the NOTICE, file stamp them, keep the original and give you the file stamped copies back.
7. AT THIS TIME, DO NOT FILE THE DOCUMENTS TITLED PROOF OF
PUBLICATION, REQUEST FOR SUBMISSION AND ORDER.
8. Take the NOTICE to the newspaper to have it published one time a week for three consecutive weeks.
9. At this time, take a few minutes and fill in the Case No. and Dept. No. that has been assigned to your case on all the other documents you have. Everything in this case must be identified
by that Case No. and Dept. No.
10. At the end of the three weeks publication, the newspaper will mail a “Proof of Publication” to you which will be an Affidavit and a copy of the published Notice. This is then attached to the Proof of Service sheet that is included in this set of documents. Make two copies of the Proof of Service cover sheet and the attached Proof of Publication and file it with the Filing Clerk at 75 Court Street, Reno.
11. Ten days from the last date the Notice appeared in the paper, you may “submit” the case for review and decision by the Judge. To do this, sign the Request for Submission and make two copies of it. Make THREE (3) OR MORE COPIES OF THE ORDER. YOU MAY WANT MORE THAN ONE COPY FOR FUTURE RECORDS. THIS IS THE TIME TO MAKE THEM.
12. Take the Request For Submission and the copies of the Request and the Order and copies of the Order to the Filing Clerk. The Clerk will file in the Request For Submission, keep the original and give you back the copies. These are for your records. The Clerk will keep all
of the Orders for the Judge’s signature.
13. The Judge will usually sign the Order within a week or ten (10) days. The Court may notify you that the Order has been signed, HOWEVER, sometimes, the Judge signs the Order and,
for whatever reason, you are not notified that the Order has been signed. It is up to you to keep track of your documents within the Court process and when asking about the documents, you must always have the Case No. and Dept. No. ready for whoever is assisting
you.
14. It is wise to get at least three (3) “certified copies” of the Order. The orders you brought in with the Request for Submission can be certified and should be in the file. These “certified” copies are necessary for such things as school records, Social Security name change, etc.
Are you kidding me?! I just want to drop the A. At this point, the A is winning. I guess I could hire a lawyer to do the above listed beurocratic nonsense, but for right now, I’ll just sit here and fume.
Now presenting the new improved version of me — Mrs. B! We’re back from our honeymoon in Italy, which was wonderful! We got back Friday at about 11:30 pm after 24.5 hours of travel. We’re both jet lagged. In fact, it is 5:30 in the morning right now on Sunday, and I’ve been up for an hour. Despite being very tired, my body clock is still very off.
The wedding was wonderful. A bit overwhelming, but wonderful. Most everything went smoothly.
One of the best decisions we made was to go on our honeymoon two days after the wedding. Even though it was great to see everyone that came to the wedding, I was so excited to be alone with JB for 11 days in romantic Italy.
I haven’t touched a computer in 17 days, which I think is a personal record. At least, that’s the longest I’ve gone without touching a computer since probably high school. And it was wonderful. I admit that the Internet cafes were a bit alluring, but then I stopped myself, knowing I’d be attached to a keyboard again soon enough.
I kept an old fashioned paper travel jounal while in Italy, and I hope to get some of those entries posted for all of you soon. Basically, our honeymoon consisted of the following:
- Arrive in Naples, Europe’s most densely populated city
- After spending one night in Naples, we went to Capri, a small island off the coast of Naples
- We spent two nights in a DELUXE resort on a cliff that overlooked the ocean
- We then took a ferry, bus and train to Florence. We spent two days in Florence, the first of which JB caught a cold and the second of which I spent half a day doing laundry. Doing laundry in an Italian laundrymat was an experience in itself. More on that later.
- From Florence, we went to Cinque Terre, where we hiked 7 miles between the five fishing villages, and probably another three within the villages and to a nude beach that was completely and utterly vacant.
- After two nights in Cinque Terre, we took the train to Venice, where we got endlessly lost on the ancient Roman street grid and did the traditional gondola ride. We also enjoyed deuling orchestras at night in St. Mark’s Square, which has to be one of the most romantic settings EVER.
- After three nights in Venice, we came home. We spent yesterday opening packages, cleaning the house, and walking the dogs, who after almost two weeks of no dog walks and attention were BOUNCING OFF THE WALLS.
Overall, it’s good to be back. The last two weeks, including the wedding and the honeymoon, went by so fast, but have so many wonderful memories. They have to be the best two weeks of my life.
I think I’m finally coming down with the cold that JB had for the second week of our trip. At least I didn’t get sick on the trip… Now, the only thing I’m dreading is going to work on Monday after being gone for so long. I should start a pool for people to guess how many unread e-mails I’ll have. For some reason, the number 4000 sticks out in my head, but then again, I think at some point I probably exceeded my account size and Outlook probably shut down my account.
Until next time, I sign off as Mrs. Lynnette Bellin, the deleriously happy newlywed.