2013 Retrospective

(2013 -- aka the year I learned The Cups Song)

I have found myself, over the course of the year, and probably EVERY year, thinking about how things are not happening fast enough, I am not accomplishing enough, etc.I often feel behind in life when I get to the end of my year. Perhaps it is because I am so busy doing the same things that I forget I'm doing anything and then I think I should be doing more things because my base level of things just doesn't seem amazing enough.

 I was having this thought over again during this past month. And then I argued with my thought and I started taking a short inventory of all the change in my life, just over this past year. I realized that quite a bit had happened which I was failing to measure. In that spirit, I have compiled a Top 10 of 2013.

Top 10 Laudable, Fulfilling Dones of 2013

1) I started a new job as Program Manager of Community Engagement at the Medical College of Wisconsin. They haven't fired me yet And I am slowly figuring out what that means, so maybe I can explain it when you ask me.

2) I started renovating our downstairs bathroom. It involved a lot of demolition, staining/varnishing of wood trim, designing color palettes and choosing finishing touches. It's not done yet. But that's because I need a contractor for the last remaining pieces, and he's been kind of sick over the last month. So, that's the downside. The upside is the bathroom is at least functional again. And it will be finished soon. I will post about it. With pictures. I promise. It's not a total renovation. It's just low-budget makeover. But I'm loving it.

3) I was the advisor/teacher for the Mia Maids for many months in my ward here in West Bend. And I loved it. And all the Young Women. They're awesome. They released me just this past month and I already miss it.

4) I am now the YW Secretary for the Appleton Stake. It's my first stake calling and I really am not sure how I feel about it. The good news is the other ladies in the presidency are awesome. On initial testing of the waters, I feel confident in saying, ward callings are more fulfilling than stake callings. But it's a worthy cause, so I'll keep plugging away and perhaps stake stuff will grow on me. 

5) I dipped my feet back into the waters of theater and participated in community theater in a One Act play by a local playwright. I was Eve. I had fun. And I made some wonderful new friends who I still need to invite over my house for a fun little reunion.

6) Ben and I traveled to Utah for my family reunion and celebrated my parents' 50th Wedding Anniversary. And we got to see a lot of wonderful faces that I love and don't see often enough. 

7) I started a new cooking habit. When making any yummy food, I make at least 2, if not 3 or 4, times more than we want and freeze the rest into one-meal-size packages. One of the best life hacks I've adopted. It's the gift of a meal that keeps on giving. My lazy self loves this and Ben seems equally pleased. 

8) We planted something. It's our first year owning a house. And one of the perks to home ownership that I have been waiting for is having things growing and blooming. We planted a bunch of baskets all over the deck this summer, and they were gorgeous. I had a lovely view of them from the kitchen all summer long and I loved it.

9) Jon & Anne and their family took us with them to the Boundary Waters back in August. It was absolutely beautiful, and Ben and I were delighted to have such lovely company to adventure with. And adventure we did, canoeing, portaging, camping, and blowing billows into the campfire. And I think all of the mosquito bites on my legs are now healed. 

10) We were hoping that having a house might bring about more visits with family & friends. And our wish came true! We have loved having Jon & Anne and their kids come stay with us, since being in Wisconsin makes us just a short evening's drive away. We go up there on weekends, and they have come down to see us several times. It's pretty much awesome. We also had a visit from Mesha Hawkins (Whaley) (for anyone who doesn't know, my forever friend and companion inseparable from pretty much all of my pre-college education years) for a weekend (epic and awesome), and Ben's brother Daniel came to see us for July 4th (also fabulous). Nothing makes home feel more homey than family and friends. Come see us more! We love it!

Despite all my laziness (which, I confess, there was some), it looks like 2013 was pretty eventful. Life keeps on moving. What will I endeavor for next year? I'm not totally sure yet. And, as usually happens, life has plans of its own and cares very little for what I put on the agenda. But I'm looking forward to it!

Alternate Reality -- Does Everybody Have Weeks Like This?

I have had some odd perceptions over the last week.

1) While driving home from work earlier this week, I distinctly sensed an odor a la toasted bagel while driving on the highway. A lovely, cozy smell, to be true. But I was suspicious, as I've never smelled this on that stretch of road before,or any stretch of road. But I had no one in the car with me to verify or discredit that I was crazy for thinking I smelled toasted bagel.

2) While talking with Ben one evening this week, with tired eyes, everything around him became washed out, the light in the room started masking everything, and making it fuzzy, and all I could really see clearly was Ben in the middle of it all. It was like a filter had been applied to a photograph, only it was my real line of sight and not a picture at all. It was difficult for me to focus my eyes enough to make the effect go away, and I ultimately was so bemused by the effect that I stopped trying and just enjoyed the unusual visual perspective.

3) As I was walking out of my office door this morning, it felt like there was a wind current going through the hallway that made the door difficult to open. In reality, it's just a heavy door and I realized after I opened it that there was probably no more resistance in opening it this morning than there has been any other day I've opened it. And there was, most definitely, no wind in the hallway.

I have instinctively manifest some unusual interpretations of the world around me and my senses are getting creative with what they tell my brain is happening. Shoddy first guesses, to be sure. This first lead me to think I'm becoming more of an artist, as this must be often how they experience the world. My second thought is that I'm losing my mind. My third thought is that these are essentially the same thing. I'm in trouble.

ALS And My Brother Jon

Something most people don't know about me. When I meet new people, and love them (Which I usually do. I can't help myself), there's one thing I want to do: I want to share them with the people I love -- aka my family. I imagine bringing them into the fold, and saying, " You're gonna love this." And then they would love it. I think I want to do this so they can enjoy the comfort, joy and love that is my family.  But I can't get you there, mostly because "there" does not exist. My family is geographically very dispersed. You'd think people who like each other so much would live closer together. Alas, 'tis not so.  But I can bring a little of my family to all of you, right here on my blog. And I can bring you no better than the fine specimen named Jonathon Tilton Neu. I shall tell you about him.

As many of you may be aware, my brother, Jon, was recently diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's Disease, also called Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, or ALS. As this news will likely be the impetus for many future posts, I'd like to tell you about my brother. First, he's pretty cute. And we Neu's are incredibly superficial, so we want you to know how good-looking we are, first and foremost. See picture of happy, adored son, devoted brother, and doting father below:

1. Thing to adore about Jon: he is hilarious. Both he and his wife Anne are a good time, in a red-neck, best not come here if you're too good for your britches, kind of way. Pretentious and self-important folk need not apply here. But you're missing out. Just sayin'.

2. Thing to hate about Jon: He's incredibly good at pretty much all strategy games. I love strategy games. And I'm decent at some of them. On some occasions I lose. I much prefer winning, but just by a little, so you still enjoy the game too and think you have a fighting chance. :) Sadly. I lose against Jon pretty much all the time. It's kind of unsatisfying, yet addictive, like gambling at a casino (a fitting analogy, as my chances of winning there are probably as good). My only solace is that everyone I have seen play has succumbed to defeat when they play with Jon. I don't know how he figures out how to win so fast. And while it's remarkable, it drives me crazy.

3. Thing to be worried about Jon: He has amazing power over children. They love him. And they want to do anything that he says just for the joy of pleasing him. I know, because I used to be that young kid and I would have done anything for Jon when I was little. (Ok, so that's still true). Sounds like a good thing, right? Yeah, UNTIL you consider the fact that I now have 28 nieces and nephews.  And while I don't normally worry about holding my own around people smaller than me, I have been made aware of the fact that 20+ of them CAN, in fact, throw you into a pool, whether you want them to or not, as long as Jon wants them to. Jon has a veritable army at his disposal. Small but mighty. You've been warned. 

4. Thing to admire about Jon: He's as strong as an ox. While the rest of us poor saps are portaging canoes by twos, Jon takes the heavy ones all by himself. I'm gonna guess he gets it from my farming grandfather on my mom's side. Us little Jews with my dad's genes just can't hack it.

5. Thing to relish about Jon: He's a feeder and he makes yummy food. Favorite foods to enjoy at his house include homemade pizza (he used to work at a pizza place in high school and they taught him good), goulash & galushka (did I mention we're Hungarian Jews?), all things barbecue, and wassail. And whenever planning a get-together with Jon, you can rest assured that food will be a primary consideration. Even ahead of sleeping arrangements. It's a big deal.

6. Thing to idolize about Jon: He has a heart of gold. he's taught me at least a few times about how to be less judgmental and to pay attention to important, as opposed to stupid, things. He has a gift for making people feel welcome and special. Maybe it's because he has a great laugh which he applies liberally, and he has a charming, witty, self-deprecating sense of humor.Whatever it is that he has, it disarms everyone.

7. Thing to take into consideration when doing anything with Jon: He has an intimate relationship with the laws of physics, and tests them regularly, with mostly success but some fails. You wanna know how large of a bonfire you can build next to your house without catching your home on fire? Jon knows. You wanna know how to handle an off-road vehicle without flipping over or pitching anyone off? Jon mostly knows. I think. You wanna know how fast and curvy you can drive the boat without killing the people riding on the tube you're pulling? You hope Jon knows. Because he's the one driving. You wanna know the limits of the power of a potato gun? I'm not sure, but I'm gonna guess Jon knows. I'm sure he's come across one. Jon's experience with most things imbues a naive level of confidence in his ability to take care of you while getting very close to the limits of important laws. Like gravity. Momentum. And Thermodynamics. And you wade into the situation thinking, "It's all good because he's tested the limits already." And that's true. And he'll verify that it's true, and that everything is good. And it IS all good... until you realize he's still "testing".

8. Thing to always remember about Jon: Call him Philippe. No, really. Do. Why? Well, my Dad is French, so he probably didn't know better. And my mother is innately very accommodating. But being the good mother she is, she couldn't let that happen, so she went back to the hospital to have it changed on the birth certificate to Jonathon. Only, she didn't know it was too late. Philippe would never totally be gone when there were six siblings to remember Philippe existed.

9. Thing to grin about Jon: Sometimes he makes sounds like Yogi Bear. It's awesome. 

10. Thing that makes this thing about Jon really hard: He has a huge presence, and is sorely missed when he's not there. 

Tom Hanks is my favorite actor.And I know he's an American sweetheart to many for a number of reasons, but I think TH was bound to be my favorite one because he looks like Jon. I named my car Tom Hanks, as associating the car with both the actor and  my brother makes me smile on a regular basis.

So, here's my brother Jon. You can fall in love with him too. I will probably be talking a lot about him and expounding on meditations on life and faith that have occupied my mind and heart since his diagnosis. More to come. Much love to you all.

Bad News

I got on the bus after work. I left the office just a few minutes after I got the text. “Confirmed.” I didn’t leave the office because I was upset about the news. And I didn’t leave the office early or rushed, except that I was rushed because I was about to miss the bus. However, the timing was serendipitous, as it was best, as the news sunk in, that I was on the bus. On the bus, though surrounded by strangers, I was also alone, sitting in my own row, able to turn my face to the window that I knew was tinted so that no one in traffic could see me as we passed. And the roar of traffic, the hum of the large bus engine, and the loud air conditioning system were enough to give me hope that I was in my own space; that all that noise would separate me from my surroundings like walls,  enough to drown out my silent cries and distract from my anguished side face sufficient that no other passengers would notice. It came faster than I thought it would, and I was so glad for it.

Glad to cry? Yes. I wanted to cry all the way home. I wanted to cry long enough so that I could come home and see Ben, and he would see me and know that I was hurt. And I could cry about it in his arms. But I knew that was unlikely because the bus ride is about 45 minutes, and after that time passes, I have a 10 minute drive from the park and ride. And I rarely cry for a full hour. I was sad. And thinking about my own sadness about this made me feel quite vain. After all, it wasn’t my news. Why did I need anyone to see me? I was already crying in public, after all. And yet, despite my wish to expose my pain, I had my hair as much forward in front of my face, and my face angled towards the window as much as possible, so that none of the other passengers would be exposed to my intimate, and exposed emotions.

I cried because I was defiant in the face of the news. I refused to accept it and yet I knew I was helpless to change it. Confirmed. I had assumed for the last two weeks that this would be the news. They’d already told me there as about an 85% likelihood this was the case. And I had already cried about it multiple times. Did I really need to cry about it again? Apparently. And I was glad to. My heart was feeling broken. I let my mind explore all the fears this diagnosis could conjure. Fears of mine, and threatening realities for all those closest. I don’t want these visions to become true. I thought if I stopped thinking about it then my tears would stop. But even in dwelling on my own selfish desires, desire to be crying and to cry with Ben, for my own selfish purposes, the tears did not stop. 

I cried up until we pulled out of the park & ride stop before mine. That was about 30 minutes into my 45 minute ride. I would not cry all the way home after all. As I suspected. But I would defiantly leave my mascara all over my cheeks so that he knew. I would not wipe this hurt away or soften it. I wanted it to be recognizable and clear. As I pulled down the mirror in my car visor to see how ridiculous I really looked, I was surprised by how much more my right eye had teared up than my left, as evidenced by the uneven distribution of black crumbles of mascara over my two cheeks.

I drove home a stoic. And I walked in the door. Ben was just a few steps away, sitting at the computer in the office, which has its doorway facing the door to the garage, where I entered the house. Upon hearing the stir of my arrival, he said, “You’re home! How was your day?"  It was a very normal, cheery greeting. And though I had wanted to weep in his arms, the normalcy evoked a reflexive normalcy in myself. Suddenly, I wanted to say “Good. How was yours?” And I would have probably responded that way to anyone else, even in that moment, on that evening. But it was Ben. And before I replied, I admonished myself to respond acknowledging what had happened, as if to respond normally would have been disrespectful. I would have told him earlier. I would have sent him a text too. But I left my phone in the office in my rush not to miss the bus. And perhaps because I was more frazzled by the news than I had thought. He would want to know too. And so I responded with something that let him know that I’d gotten bad news, but I can’t really recall what I said. He said, “They got the results back? What did they say?” And only then did I look at him, and said, “I think you can guess.” And he saw my make-up stained cheeks. I was so glad for them, not for my vanity that he would know I was hurt, but because it meant I didn’t have to say any of those words. 

Saying things out loud is more earth-shattering than just understanding something, and it would have been painful to do in that moment. It was shattering enough that we were acknowledging the news out loud. Even in indirect references. I was glad not to have to say the words. Or word, as it were. I put my bags down. And Ben, as sweet as he was, and as strange as it must have been to him as I am not sure if I have ever cried in his arms, even after five years of marriage, came to me to give me comfort. And to my relief, all the tears came right back. And I cried for a few moments.

I made sure not to cry for too long. After all, I had cried on the bus enough. Was it controlled crying? What's uncontrolled crying? My emotional outburst was paradoxical to the controlled thoughts in my head. When is it proper to stop? Should I stop now because I'd already cried enough? I don't want to wear out Ben's shoulder. Perhaps if I don't stop myself now, I could go on forever. Or just too long. Stop now? Now? Now. I can stop now. I never seem to let my brain turn off enough to let my emotions have their way. They never take me over completely. And I wondered if at this point I just cried because I was in a habit of crying, rather than crying because of the news.

But maybe that’s how it is when you get bad news. Perhaps the news itself is like a dagger. And it wounds you. And even if you remove the dagger, and don’t think about it, you’re still wounded. And you still bleed. And it bleeds out after that, whenever something brushes up against it to break up the scab, be it external provocation, a passing thought, or just because you're moving around too much and hurting things inside that are still fragile. Yes, it’s like a wound.

This does not explain the joy in my tears. There was a time when I did not cry like this. When tragedy would strike those I loved. And while I knew my soul was wounded, or at least very much should be, I did not feel the wounds. As a young girl, I remember riding on the bus from school, conjuring up imaginings of family tragedy and personal losses, just to see if I could get myself to cry.  I suspect that on a subconscious level I was aware I was disconnected from my feelings. But I didn’t know they’d been dislodged from me like one might have a dislocated shoulder.

It wasn’t until I started dating Ben that I learned I had issues with emotional dislocation. I found myself  on several occasions during our courtship crying for no reason, unprovoked, without any daggers to my soul, by odd triggers. And I went to therapy because I had no idea how else to figure out what was going on. And in therapy, emotions I had buried, unable to acknowledge at a much more tender age, came bubbling up to the surface. I acknowledged them out loud for the first time, over 20 years after they happened. Quiet all that time. And yet still there. I had no idea until then that there were words I had never said out loud. Or that saying things out loud mattered so much. Or hurt so much. And they were shattering to say. But they were also very healing. All those years, I had no idea how much I wasn’t feeling. My emotions have since come back to me, taking their place close to me, more and more as time goes by.

So it may seem strange to some. And though it is selfish and odd to put it this way, I was so grateful to be devastated. I wondered if it wasn’t possible the Savior was also glad in the garden of Gethsemane to feel all he felt for our pains and our anguishes and our wounded souls. Because I think, at its most basic level, pain is often the thing that connects us. For me, it is an evidence of my devotion and my love. But rather than a conscious sense of devotion as I’ve had in the past, it is instinctive. I have been wounded and I can feel this wound. And each time they come, though I would wish these daggers to cease to exist, I would never wish to not feel the resulting pain from the emotional wounds and share in that agony. For those you love, you wish to feel nothing less. 

Neu Family Reunion: 2013: Tea Party Details

Ben and I took a trip to Utah to attend a week-long reunion extravaganza with my family, and to celebrate my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. We started doing these bi- annual reunions -- oh, it must have been 10 years ago, as this is the fifth such reunion I can remember. Each one seems all the more precious to me.

There were a lot of activities. One of my favorites: all the girls got together for a Tea Party at Kerrie's House. Treats abounded!

 

 

Kerrie did an amazing job with the decor and setting everything up just enough so my nieces were pretty much delirious from tea party dreams come true.

And the birthday girl even got to wear a special crown.

Girly activities included nail painting, tea time etiquette education a' la Jane Austen by Emilie Ann, singing performances by the new Neu generation, a fashion show, a baby shower for Erika, birthday hullabaloo for Bitsy, and a lovely Q&A with my dear mother, the matriarch of the family, where we listened to and recorded her answers to some of life's big questions and got to hear and rehear some of her amazing stories. 

 

Tragically, I couldn't find a photo of my mom at this event. But I promise she was a big deal! And it was a wonderful afternoon. We should get together, just ladies, more often. This was such a a good time!

PS -- Thank you Kerrie & Erika for taking such fabulous photos all week long! AKA -- pictures courtesy of my two amazing sisters-in-law

Bigger Than You Think

Bless my liberal mormon heart. This Rachel Maddow clip made me so happy

Hummus...cause I like it

So, as Sharona will tell you, I am horrible at multiple things, but one of those things is doing anything with any sort of repetition, schedule or longevity, and that includes blogging.  I do it sometimes, when the mood strikes me, and when I think I have something of value to share.  The reality is, I think I rarely have anything of value to share.  That being said, I thought I would share this little tid bit that I learned recently that has made a drastic improvement in my......hummus.

Now, for anyone that reads this and knows who I am (which I think might be 1 person....possibly 2, and that includes me and my wife, knows that I like food, and I like to cook.  One thing that I like to make is hummus...that delectable smooth bean paste with hints of lemon, garlic (sometimes more than a hint), and sesame seeds.

As anyone that knows food can tell you, food is not just about flavor, it is also texture, scent, appearance, all those things that we appreciate, but perhaps don't identify until after we analyzed.  Well, in the years that I have been making hummus, flavor wise, I have always enjoyed it.  And the pleasure of making something from scratch is always nice....but I had the displeasure of knowing that my hummus was a little more grainey than store bought hummus, and it sort of irked me, but I got over it.  Then the other night I was reading a blog and they had a suggestion about hummus, and it is fantastic.  To think such a small change could bring the smooth buttery texture that I had been craving all this time.

What is it you say?  PEEL THE GARBANZO BEANS!  What?  You didn't know the garbanzo beans had a skin on them?  Well, they do, and if you pop them out of the skins while making hummus, you get that smooth buttery texture.  Who would have known.  Anyways, for those of you that like hummus, are interested in making hummus, and want the texture you get in packaged hummus, I will write the recipe below.  If you don't care about the grainy texture, don't peel the beans...it will save you 10 minutes.

Recipe:

2 15oz cans of Garbanzo Beans/Chickpeas (they are the same thing)
1 clove of garlic
1 tablespoon of lemon juice (usually 1 cap per can of beans)
2 teaspoons of cumin
2 tablespoons of Tahini (I like the Krinos brand, but it isn't always easy to find)
Salt/Pepper to taste
Olive Oil
Water

Drain the beans.  Peel the beans....peel the beans....peel the beans.  Then throw them in a food processor or blender (both work fine).  Blend it up.  Peel the garlic and toss it in with the beans...keep blending.  Throw in the lemon juice and the cumin.  Start to slowly add water until it starts to get a bit of a paste like consistency (maybe 1 cup of water).  Once everything has come together, add a bit of olive oil for flavor and/or texture and voila....hummus.  All in all, it takes about 15 minutes to make, if you don't peel the beans, 5 minutes.

All of the ingredient amounts above are fungible depending on your personal preferences...enjoy!

Fashion Challenge: Operation 50th Wedding Anniversary Party Dress

So, I've been shopping for a dress for my parent's 50th Wedding Anniversary Party this August.

I know, I know. "It's not till August, right? I've got plenty of time." I hear that.

And to that, I say, "Ah, so naive. Have you shopped for a nice dress with sleeves and a knee-length skirt that's not in black anytime this decade?"

The even bigger challenge is we've been instructed to pick a color for each family and the color should be in a pastel hue. I haven't picked our family color yet because I'm hoping to find the dress first (so I have more options when shopping) and let my shopping find determine the color -- which will, in a perfect world, happen before all of my other siblings pick their family colors first (blue and purple are already called for, but I can work with the rest of the rainbow for sure.).

Usually, when I start shopping I already have a pretty accurate and unyielding idea of what I'm looking for. Notions of what I'd like to find out there:

I'm in love with the idea of tulle skirts. Light, feathery, full, kind of whimsical. I could dig that. Or something different that just holds that full shape.

Along with that tulle, I DO enjoy the lace trend. But maybe just a little lace.

A cute print would also not be so bad. And I'm definitely leaning towards a fit and flare style. My short curves appreciate structure and definition.

Also, I like some texture elements. But not too much. These ruffles are nice because they accomplish that without adding actual volume or width (for the most part). I never want to appear wider, so if it's too exaggerated, I tend to avoid texture (especially around my chest and waist where I already think I have sufficient "volume". :))

What I'm finding instead of what I want is:

LOTS O' BLACK. Why do designers always retreat to black? I HAVE black. I need pastel. Color. Any color. Please.

SHEATH DRESSES -- Can I please find a dress that does not remind me of "Real Housewives of Atlanta". Please?

CHEAP LACE -- Come on now. Cheap lace everywhere does not a nice dress make. You have to add nice stuff somewhere. Haven't you learned anything from Cheap n' Chic DIY blogs? 

LONG SLEEVES -- Did I mention this is going to be in summer? Give a modest girl a little bit of a break. 

And MY BIGGEST PET PEEVE OF ALL:

BABY DOLL DRESSES -- I am a GROWN WOMAN. I want a WHOLE DRESS. Please stop telling me that I need to look like an adolescent boy wearing an 8 yr old girl's dress. I do not wish to appeal to pedophiles.  I want a WOMAN'S DRESS. Seriously. These are everywhere. What is up, people!?!?! 

I was thinking not to go back to designing dresses, but you're really not giving me much to work with. Unless, of course, I can afford Oscar de la Renta or Valentino. In that case, I might have a few suitable options. Until then.....

I'm hoping my bottom feeder shopping at Nordstrom Rack and Saks Off Fifth proves to be more encouraging than my online searches. Wish me luck. 

News About My Twin

They actually gave me a hospital bracelet when I went in for the bibopsy. Evidence that I was an admitted patient, if only for 45 minutes. Bibopsy was Thursday. They called me Friday afternoon with the results of the test.

It's benign! It's a fibro-adenoma, as they suspected. And this fibro-adenoma is apparently harmless and needs no treatment. I really can't express how much of a load off my mind that is. Thanks for thoughts and prayers that were sent my way. I really appreciate it.

The Bibopsy

I went in to the get my bibopsy today. First, I'd just like to say --people who work at breast care centers (which is where I went for my bibopsy) are INCREDIBLY nice. They treat you like they are just delighted to see you and then they cradle you in sweetness. Seriously. I wonder how they keep it up with every patient who walks in. But I like it.

So, I changed into the very awkward gown that they give you at this place (I wore it for the mammogram too). It's like any hospital gown except the tie is in the front, thus risk of exposure is from a VERY different angle. Sitting in their waiting room, I am in danger of exposing myself to random other people who may be in the waiting room pretty much the entire time. This subsequently makes it very hard for me to focus on whatever article I am reading in whatever random magazine I picked up.  

So, for this bibopsy they wanted four tissue samples. I got to watch everything on an ultrasound screen, which I was riveted by. They took this needle and kinda punched at the mass. It mechanically sounded like a powered stapler and I imagine it functioned like a harpoon-equipped whole punch. It punched out a piece of tissue in the mass and then it punched back out of the mass with said tissue. It didn't hurt. But it kind of reverberated in my chest. I wasn't expecting it to be quite that violent of a process (violent in the most gentle sense of the word). 

After the doctor got all the tissue she wanted, she put a piece of metal in there, to mark that they've "been there". They have promised me repeatedly that this little piece of titanium will not set off metal detectors. Heaven forbid if this causes me to get felt up every time I go to the airport. 

They patched me up afterwards  (it was only a 1/8 inch incision so they essentially put a band-aid on it that I have to wear for a week). Then they said I needed to keep ice on it for 15 minutes of every hour for the next day --- at which point, I said, "I'm sorry. You want me to put an ice pack where?"

It made it better when they prescribed that I eat chocolate and watch movies for the rest of the night.

The real comedy was AFTER. I had to stick the ice pack in my bra and then return to work because I had  training session with a guy from the finance dept. on our financial software. And while the ice pack is somewhat small, it's large enough that it makes the girls a little, uh,.. well, you can imagine. I wasn't quite sure what to do about the situation, so I hoped that my clothes (loose shirt and cardigan) made that general area relatively inconspicuous so that said guy from finance would take no notice. Yes. You read that right. I knowingly walked into a meeting with a man who didn't know me from Adam, with sigificantly disproportionate girls, and said nothing, Now that I think back on this, I picture this thing having happened on an episode of the Carol Burnett show or I Love Lucy. Sometimes, life is just funny.

"Yes. Inside the lump was my twin."

Today, my life reminded me of this scene. And it appears they have found my twin.

Truth be told, I went in for a mammogram. It was not as awful as I've heard it would be, but I will concede that I was technically uncomfortable. Who really ENJOYS having their boobs compressed into pancakes? ... I didn't think so.

I notices something amiss back in December. I kind of figured it was nothing. A mass. But nothing. Web MD said so, so that's pretty reliable right? Just kidding.  Considering my family history, and despite my high confidence in diagnosing myself over the internet, I thought it would be prudent to have a professional make a final determination before I cease thinking about it completely.

My first appointment resulted in the doctor also being pretty sure it's nothing, but "considering my family history" they'll ask for a diagnostic mammogram and ultrasound.

So I was in there today with all their imaging equipment... and the technician... and the doctor. I was lying on a table, looking around at drapery meant to give me privacy. There were pretty, serene pictures on the wall juxtaposed against a very clinical setting. And suddenly, it felt a little different. I wasn't really worried about it before. But now, I'm thinking, "I have a mass". They keep referring to my "mass". They keep investigating this "mass". Compounded by my surroundings it hits me: "I do not think it means what you think it means." (name that movie)

As I sat there I was wondering, "Exactly how often should I anticipate having this view?" I wanted to tell them that their pretty panels on the ceiling with the garden scenery are a nice gesture, but I'm not fooled. "You have failed to mentally transport me to anything that could be confused with a vacation destination."

So far, everyone else agrees that they're pretty sure it's nothing. "Awesome. I was 99% it was nothing too." Sadly, the doctor lacks my level of confidence and only gave me a 98% but, all things considered, I'll happily take it. And I have decided to rename the mass "my twin".

I am writing this post not so much to warn you all that I might be dying (I seriously doubt it), and more so because I'm totally bemused at how something that seemed relatively benign (Admit it. I'm hilarious) suddenly became disturbing and alarming just because professionals acknowledging what I already knew and subsequently made me sit in a medical examination room.

I go for the bibopsy in a couple weeks, so we can all be a little more certain about our suspicions. I'll let you know how it goes -- whether it be my evil twin or just a sweet little companion I get to carry around forever. Maybe they will discover it to has teeth. And a spinal cord. ;)

Recent Beauty Quirks & Obsessions

Believe it or not, this is  a picture of my nails. My nail obsession over the past several months (whenever I actually do my nails ) is to paint my right ring finger a different color. Trendy? Maybe. Incredibly fun? For sure. Serviceable to my tendency of not being able to choose between colors? You better believe it.

I also gave myself a fashion New Year's Resolution: to wear at least one accessory every day. I always think that people who wear accessories look very put together. And yet, I often find that I don't want to wear them because I feel like they can be distracting or overwhelming. But really, how can one accessory be overwhelming? I'm one month in and so far so good. This resolution might be a keeper.

The Dead Man's Cell Phone That Almost Was

I was really looking forward to getting back into the theater after I finished my MBA. I needed a for fun hobby, ya know? Reclaim some of the fun and whimsy that I used to have. But I couldn't commit to much while we were job searching.

We've been settled down in West Bend for a couple months, so I started to look for play auditions. And I found one! In my home town! So I went.

They were reading for a play I'd never heard of before -- "Dead Man's Cell Phone". As I watched the scenes unfold during the auditions, I thought it was quite funny, but overall I was surprised it was as edgy as it was. We are still in West Bend, WI, right? Well, it's just an audition. I'll just have fun with it.

Then the director called and he offered me the lead role. Seriously?! I've never been a lead role before. It was surreal. Of course, I didn't lose myself completely. I told him I had some reservations with the script. But he said he was editing the script somewhat to take the edge off.

So, I came in for a reading. And I thought the changes might make it ok enough to do the play. So, I said yes.

But there were a couple of things that never seemed quite resolved. For one thing, my character kisses a couple of people. Not surprisingly, this fact seems to cause my husband a fair amount of discomfort. For another thing, I still have a line where I drop several 4 letter words, even WITH editing. And there's a monologue about sex from another character. It's not SUPER explicit. But it's not PG either.

Safe to say, it's not a family play. And I kept thinking  back to Elder Oaks' talk, Good Better, Best. My first thought in reconciling the concerns I had about the script, was to think, "It's not that bad." And there it was. Not that bad. The best I could say for it was "it's not that bad."

I was in denial for a little while -- four days and one rehearsal, to be exact. And then I came to my senses and called the director this morning to tell him I couldn't do it. He was gracious enough to offer to edit some more, but I knew that there was no amount of editing that was going to make this play content I could do and really apply Elder Oaks' counsel.

I'm not gonna lie. I'm a little heart-broken. And I'm not really sure my standards are as rigid and high as I just set them. But they always say you're supposed to experiment. So this time, I'm experimenting with erring on the side of caution. So long, lead role. So long doing a play this spring, now that I've gone and missed all the other auditions.

This seems like a very petty thing. And yet, it really kinda hurts. As life does, I guess. To be sure, this will find it's way into a YW lesson in my near future.

Did You Really Just Do That??

Ok, so I am a bit of a feminist. And this word has never made me uncomfortable -- mostly because I'm oblivious to a lot of negative connotations and caricatures people associate with it. At the same time, it's not among the top 10 adjectives I use to describe me. But I may gain a reputation as such shortly, because I have taken issue with something. And I feel compelled to speak up.

So, a member of the bishopric in our new ward called Ben and I out of class on Sunday.  He asked Ben to come in the office and requested I wait outside for a few minutes.All is fine so far.

When he called me in to join them, I was informed that I was waiting outside so he could talk to my husband about whether it was ok to extend a calling to me. And, mind you, not a very extensive calling. And suddenly ...

Wha???? Just a moment. What's that sound I hear? Ah, yes. It's the sixties. They'd like their policy back.

I've been going over it in my head since the meeting (during which I said nothing about it). But I just can't comprehend. I had no idea that when I became a married woman that I lost my ability to make adult decisions. And did they tell my husband before he signed the marriage certificate that he would have to bear the responsibility of both spouse and parental consent-giver?

Consult with him about a calling? Yes. Ask for his support? Yes. Involve him in the discussion? Yes. Even want his approval? I do. But ask for his permission? BEFORE asking me? You betta check yo'self.

Am I the only one who thinks this protocol is totally absurd? When I later mentioned to Ben that I was taken aback by it, he had a bit of a laugh and said, "I thought that would bother you." And then he kind of brushed it aside with a, "Well, maybe it's just part of the culture up here." Culture. Is that what they're calling it? No. I like these people enough to presume that "sexism" is not their "culture."

It's not something that was done in my last ward. Thank GOODNESS. And I don't hold it against any of the bishopric members personally for following protocol (I'm assuming that's what it was), But rather than just let it slide, I feel like I need to tell them all the many reasons I don't believe it's appropriate and make them aware that it's backwards. Brand me a feminist as you must. But I'm thinking I prefer saying something and wearing that label than the alternative -- not saying something and periodically being mistaken for Ben's property or his dependent child.

Renovation Project Numero Uno: The Bathroom

what my future bathroom will look as cool as

Moving into the house, it has taken a long time to figure out where to start. We're 1.5 months into owning and living in the new place and, I must confess, I haven't done much. Or bought much. The house is still incredibly empty in most rooms. Including our living room!! In my defense, I was only not working for 1 week, so I really just have nights and weekends to make progress (and initially, there was a lot o' shoppin' to do for some basics. Like groceries. And towels.). Nonetheless, I would have thought I'd be farther along than I am right now.

I finally did settle on where to start --- the main floor bathroom. And after much wasted time and mental energy, I think I have finally found my way to the beginning of this renovation (who knew making decisions on finishings and colors was so difficult?).

The turning point was picking something I really wanted in the bathroom. This is the piece that I can then focus everything else around. The piece I have chosen is........ the shower curtain. I knew I wanted a super ruffly curtain. I ended up getting this one:

I already have it hanging in my otherwise very bare and not so great-looking bathroom. Using this color spectrum as my base point, I believe I have found my wall paint color. A light, lime-y spring green that is along the lines of the upper tiers of color on the shower curtain. I'm hoping I have it right this time as I already failed with paint swatch testing twice. You can see my nice art/test marks below.

Do those swatches remind anyone else of basement cinder blocks? I don't know what I was thinking. Of course, even though I think I might have made a better selection this time, I'm not going to do anything rash. I have an appointment with the consultant at the Sherwin Williams paint shop on Thursday, in case he needs to inform me I'm making a tragic mistake.

Here is another shot of the ho-hum bathroom:

And another, just to make sure you get the full picture:

This project is more than about paint, of course. And I'm sure you'll agree from the pictures, the space could do with some major improvements. Technically, I could do virtually ANYTHING in there. But I need to not overwhelm myself, so I've decided to start small, investing in some nice finishings.

For example, along with painting the walls, I plan to have some fun with the light fixtures. There is an ugly bath fan/light that is not necessary since this bathroom has a window (and will be rarely used anyway). I'm totally getting a cool light fixture to welcome people with visual awesomeness right when they walk in. I'm getting cuter lighting for over the mirror as well.  Lighting's important.

And about that mirror. I'm debating on whether to frame the mirror to class it up, or just replace it with a collage of lots of cute little mirrors. The collage could be artsy overkill. But the frame is gonna be a huge craft project, which may or may not look cute, since I'd be doing it. : p

Along with attending to the mirror, the walls and the light fixture, if it doesn't make it look too busy I'm going to buy cute covers for the light switches and electrical outlets. I may also replace the doorknob.

And then after that, it's gravy with the decor, towel rack, etc.

If after those minor redo's, I'm not satisfied, then I start to consider painting the cabinets & giving them hardware, crown molding, painting the base boards white or getting new base boards, adding tile to the wall, wall paper on the ceiling...

You can see how good I am at overwhelming myself. I'll keep you posted as it progresses. Crossing my fingers that it turns out to be fabulous!!!