Cherry Stem, Check!

For those of you perhaps wondering, "What in the world is that thing?!" in the photo, well, I would have to say that that is the successful completion of my first item on my list. Go me, go me!!! (For those of you not currently in the room with me -- those of you being all of you because well, I'm alone right now -- I'm doing a little groove dance in my chair. Join me. There's head bobbing.)

Yes friends, that is a cherry stem tied in a knot. And not just any knot, but a knot successfully executed by my tongue. Who knew my tongue had such talent?!

I could not have achieved this dream on my own though, so there are a few people I would like to thank. First and foremost I would like to thank my parents for buying me that virgin pina colada, without which I would never have had access to that cherry stem. I would like to thank the person who made my virgin pina colada. You placed that cherry ever so perfectly on my colada. I will never forget you, whoever you are... To the waitress who managed to bring me my pina colada without dropping the cherry on the floor...at least not to my knowledge...to the waitress, for getting the cherry to my table, sanitarily or not, may you serve the populace with cherry stems for many years to come. And last, but certainly not least, to my roommates who inspired me with the desire to tie that cherry stem and gave me not only the courage to tackle the task, but also the confidence to see it through to the end -- in spite of the fact that I'm pretty sure that table across the aisle from me was laughing at the "slightly" odd faces I was making as I attempted to complete what seemed to be an almost an insurmountable feat. You rock my roommates, you rock.

30 Things to Do Before I'm 30

The joy of aging (and by joy I mean that inescapable sentiment we all find ourselves enveloped in as we are reminded once again that we are in fact truly nothing more than slaves to the whims of Old Father Time) was recently brought to my attention (and by recent I mean last year on my 29th birthday, and perhaps the year before that on my 28th, and perhaps the year before that...) that I would soon be leaving the youth and grace of my 20's behind to enter that more distinguished, if not slightly more grayish-haired decade of my now soon to be 30's (and by grayish, I mean gray...though, truth be told, these last few years of my 20's were stricken with this affront to my vanity so honestly I say to you 30's bring it on; my sister's a beautician and I know how to use her hair-coloring skills!).

As I have sat pondering over the last 29 years, 8 months, and 16 days give or take a few hours (and days depending on when you might be reading this), I have come to the realization that there is much I have yet to accomplish. For all my many talents, I have yet to master the art of stopping time (and I have done an extensive study of all the Stargate time warp episodes), and so I have decided since I cannot control time’s forward motion, I will just have to jam pack the next 3 months and 14 days give or take a few hours (and days depending on when you might be reading this) with all the many “really important” things I have yet to accomplish.

So, without further ado, I present to you my list of "30 Thing to Do Before I'm 30..." (in no particular order...)

1. Tie a cherry stem with my tongue
2. Visit Mystery Castle
3. Ride a Ferris wheel
4. Go to the Arizona State Fair
5. Climb a mountain
6. Lose 15 pounds…technically this has been done before, and then undone…I feel inclined to try my hand at doing it again though… :)
7. Write 30 more pages in my book
8. Do work at the temple for at least 30 different people
9. Read Pride and Prejudice
10. Read Atlas Shrugged
11. Learn 15 new recipes
12. Crochet a blanket
13. Learn "I Am A Child of God" in Finnish
14. Sew pajama pants with pockets
15. Draw a self portrait
16. Create a travel wall
17. Make my book of remembrance
18. Complete the Firm Workout Series
19. Take an online class
20. Stay overnight in a random hotel in AZ
21. Go 30 days without sugar
22. Earn 3000 points on family indexing
23. Make applesauce…I realize that this perhaps could fit under the learn 15 new recipes category, but my great desire to slaughter some apples with a potato masher elevated this one to its own number
24. Temple marathon
25. Find 3 new family names
26. Fly in a hot air balloon
27. Read a fiction book in Spanish
28. Run 30 miles (not all at once)
29. Learn to make balloon animals
30. Kiss a boy...what can I say, some of these goals are more realistic than others.

So there you have it, the final acts I will commit as a 20-something year old. Let the games begin!

PS. If anyone knows of anyone who would be somewhat suitable in helping me achieve #30, feel free to drop me a line!

Ode to A Maimed Hand

Dear Hand,

I'm sorry. If you promise to heal nicely, the next time I am collapsing a collapsible ladder, I promise not to expose you to imminent destruction by placing you on one of the rungs instead of on the side of the ladder where hands should be placed due to its much safer location. I've learned my lesson well.

Sincerely,

The Current Owner of Sausage Hand

So now that you know what I did in my grand intelligence, I shall show you a picture of the aftermath. Nothing can really compete with my neck wound pictures so perhaps the picture of my maimed limb is a bit anti-climatic, after all there wasn't even any real bruising (I am still lamenting that small oversight, which, after some conversation, my hand knows very well and has since promised me that it will be sure to bruise most grotesquely in the event of any other future mishaps). So, to give you a better idea of the desctruction I caused, I took the liberty of dressing up my hand for its portrait with a ring that would under normal circumstances slip right on and off my finger (this will hopefully portray to the masses who are not well-acquainted with my normal state of being that my swollen limb is just that, swollen, and not, as the untrained eye might suspect, merely fat).

Aside from the swelling, the only other major damage you can really see is the small speck of red on my middle finger. I assure you though, that small speck did bleed. Not enough for me to have to get a tissue, but I did see the tell-tale glisten of freshly spilt blood peek through the sliced epidermis. (PS. I just noticed my ring is on backwards. For those of you who know what that means, it was a mistake and not an announcement. For those of you who don't know what that means, you should really look up claddagh rings.)

A few things I've learned while I've been without my three middle fingers for the past few days.
1. Thumbs are amazing. Two thumbs up for thumbs (which I can totally still do)!
2. Washing your hair without two hands, while doable, takes far too much time.
3. Opening your child-proof thyroid medication bottle without being able to grip with one hand and twist with the other, also doable -- though I am sure somewhat amusing to any passing spectators.
4. Putting the lid back on the child-proof thryoid medication bottle -- so not worth the time or energy. Please note parents, my bottle is still currently open so don't let your children run amok in my bedroom.
5. Frosting gravestones. Quick shout out to my roommates who took pity on me and made it possible for me to show up to work on Friday with my graveyard of cupcakes.
6. And finally, typing a blog post with essentially one hand takes probably just about the amount of time you are thinking -- that is if you are thinking "a long time." Course I suppose if I had not let myself wax so verbose than I probably would have been finished awhile ago. But let's be honest, my long-winded randomness is my charm. And I can't let three measly wounded fingers strip me of my charm. So take that fingers! (Yes, I am well aware of my the slightly psychotic masochism. I blame it on my meds.)

Evolution of a Neck Wound

Welcome to my gaping wound! Alright, it really isn't so gaping any more, thusly the title of this post. For those of you unaware, back in January there was a slight incident with some scissors...let's just say your mother was right to tell you not to run with them...Alright, not really. But if that had been the case, I personally think it would have been a great story, and I would have single handedly validated mothers across the world! The short (and true) tale is that I had a treacherous thyroid whose presence I could abide no longer. And so, I yanked it out. And superglued my neck back together again. Alright, I didn't superglue my neck back together, the doctor did. Two thumbs up for superglue!!! Oh and the doctor too. Good job.

To the left you will see Day 1 of Subject A (that's me!) - slit throat in all its glory mere hours after surgery. (Quick shout out to Kelley for having the forethought to bring her camera in order to document what I hope will be a once in a lifetime experience--I mean after all, I only have one thyroid.)

After a two night stay in the hospital--I extended my stay by one night because I just really loved the service--the nurses put me out and told me to go home. I soon recovered from my initial shock and told my mother, "To Panda!"--actually she was heading there anyway and I figured what the heck, even if I can't look left, right, up, or down I could eat. I think my mother summed up my appearance & general all-around-gorgeousness on my first day out of the hospital while we were sitting in Walmart waiting for "the man" to get me some meds when I turned to her--and when I say turned, I do literally mean my whole body as at that point my neck was incapable of making such a masterful twist--and noted that she had an odd expression written across her face. I asked, "Whatcha thinkin Mom?" To which she replied, "It looks like you were attacked by Jack the Ripper." Side note, if you are thinking my neck looks greasy, that's because it is. It's actually covered in antibiotic goop. Apparently superglue can close you up but can't keep out infections, you know like gangrene...that would be unpleasant...course then I could tell people I had gangrene...now that would be a story.

Moving on and a few days ahead, my throat is looking much better if you ask me. A little yellow...not sure if that is sort of some residual bruising or if I have jaundice of the neck, but it eventually goes away, so either way it's all good. On the upside though I'm looking slightly less greasy which I think is a definite plus because contrary to popular belief due to some time spent in foreign lands, I do support general cleanliness. (Jensen & Dunn remember the code - what happens in Bolivia stays in Bolivia.)

And just so you don't have to stare just at my extra smiley face all day long, here I am with my neck and my head! Note the appearance of both my smiley faces. This means I was extra happy when we took this picture. I must have been having an especially good day--even if my hair wasn't being overly cooperative.

As time passed I received fewer and fewer gawking stares from strangers in the grocery store (which really is too bad because I find that I kind of enjoyed their stunned looks) and was even able to take up driving again as full rotational skills returned (freedom!).

And now here we are about 2 months after surgery and my smiley face has finally begun to disappear. Well at least it doesn't look like it is wearing lipstick anymore. :)

So what has this experience taught us?

1. Superglue really is super.

2. Neck wounds can be fun in public arenas.

3. Trying to play the organ without neck mobility is nigh unto impossible though apparently very amusing for your friends down in the congregation. (Yes I saw you laughing...I still had peripheral vision and you were in the front row!)

4. And finally, two smiles are always better than one!

Chocolate covered what?!...

So last week was full of firsts for me. First time in Des Moines, IA and in Chicago, IL. First time seeing a lightning bug. First time staying in my own hotel room and incidentallly in a king sized bed all to myself (which I have to say though is unfortunately somewhat overrated when you don't move at all during the night and you have this weird paranoia that requires you to sleep on the farthest side of the bed from the door instead of sprawling out in the middle of the bed...I really need to stop watching television...). First time going to a state fair. And yes, you guessed it, the first time I have ever eaten chocolate covered bacon on a stick. I know what you're thinking. Gross. Trust me, until you have tried it, you don't know what gross means.

Whoever said that putting two favorite things together to make something even better should really learn that it's not appropriate to proliferate theoretic ideas that may ultimately prove the doom of tastebuds and stomach stability alike for thousands of unsuspecting citizens. Alright fine, I'll give you that I was not so "unsuspecting," but that doesn't change the fact that the man should be trampled. Or at the very least kicked rather sternly in the shin. No but seriously, I'd take eating Boa Constrictor or even Chuno over that again any day of the week. Maybe even edamame...though that's a close call.

All in all though, I would definitely say the Iowa State Fair was the highlight of my trip. As far as fairs go it was magnificent (sure I don't really have anything to compare it to, but that's wholly and completely beside the point). I fully intend to attend the AZ State Fair this year though I have been told by quite a few that it will most definitely be quite the let down after the fair joys that I have already experienced. For your viewing pleasure, I have selected a few pictures to illustrate the untouchable awesomeness that is the Iowa State Fair:

Directly to your right is the world's largest sow (I know what you're thinking and let me be the first to say in my best Stephanie Tanner impersonation, "How rude!"). OK, well maybe not the world's biggest but at least Iowa's. OK, well at least the biggest one that was entered into the contest. Just trust me, it was large. Next year they will be able to make a ton of chocolate covered bacon with this baby.



And now to our left we have the winner of the State Fair's largest bull contest. Let's just say that I would not ever want to be caught with this guy in a dark alley or in a well lit field...

Directly below us we have me hugging the "not-the-biggest-pumpkin-at-the-Iowa-State-Fair-but-the-roundest-and-most-orange-looking-one-they-had" pumpkin. No that wasn't really posted on a sign anywhere...though I wish it had been. It's true title is "Fifth Place." I think my title is better. Personal opinion. Whatever.


And now for the moment you have all been waiting for...whether that be subconsciously or not...the picture that will more than likely change the way you look at the world...or at least butter...I present to you, the Iowa State Fair Butter Cow! That's right my friends, this beauty of a photo you now see to the bottom right is a picture of me (the only person in the photo hopefully not to be confused with the large mass of cow-shaped butter in the back) with (though I run the risk of sounding redundant) a large mass of cow-shaped butter. You may now all gasp with pleasure and great astonishment. I'll wait. Now I have been asked, on more than one occasion I might add, if I had a nearly irresitible desire to rush the butter cow with a stalk of sweet corn. And the answer of course is yes. However, my wild rushing would have only served to give me a fairly sizeable bruise more than likely on the noggin due to our beloved butter cow's state-of-the-art, nearly impenetrable security system. I think they call it glass. So most woefully I was unable to reach out and caress the cow that was made of butter though I am quite certain I heard it mooing in sadness for lack of human contact. But I suppose the Iowa State Fair people take their cows made of butter seriously. Something about some crazy fear they got into their heads about some random lunatic wanting to "rush" the butter cow with a stalk of sweet corn...I mean it's already sweet, why would you need butter.....whatever....

All in all a successful first outing to the fair. Though pictures were not taken I also indulged in pork chop on a stick, pineapple on a stick (my personal favorite) and old fashioned homemade rootbeer (which in fact was neither old nor homemade but the stage name sure did make me feel better about the drinking of said beverage). I didn't get to any of the rides, but perhaps next time. In the meantime I'm making plans for next year's trip. Perhaps I could be a carnie next year and come up with something good...chocolate covered boa constrictor on a stick anyone? Come on, its gotta be better.

To The Buckets!!

So last year we formed a band...we were really awesome...you probably didn't hear about us...so your loss. :) So let me introduce you to the band and the groupies. First we have Barb--she's our creative genius. She even wrote us a few songs--"Buton Poshin" and "A Little Bit Better Than You" and the ever popular "Living on De Nile." Then we have Samantha a.k.a. Candy. She's our lead singer and closet million (she supposedly created the rocket and sold it to NASA--whatever). Then we have Mickey. He's our drummer (and when we say drummer, we mean he plays a mean keyboard in the drumming mode). We call him the synth-drummer. And then there's me--the player of the under-respected though soon to be ever-popular nose flute. Yes people, you heard me right. The nose flute. If you've not yet been introduced to the glory that is the nose flute, boy are you missing out.

Then we have our illustrious groupies--without whom we would be nothing. Brecki Coriandor (also shown as Rebecka--though her name is Rebecca...don't ask...faulty photoshopping...) She's our posse reporter. She covers us and only us. And boy does she do it well. Finally, to our manager Melissa. We may not understand what she's saying all the time (she's Australian you know--with a slight British accent...) but we know she will never lead us astray. As long as we keep paying her.

PS. Save the turtles!

The Holy Buckets!