The Pictures

Here are pictures of my master piece, as promised. Even a shot of the sconces. Ahhh, how nice.

Here is the picture that "completed" the bathroom. Now, doesn't that look better? :)

They Left Me

It's official. My parents left me. Off to the MTC in Provo they went on Monday. Next week, they'll leave for London for a year and a half. And what has become of me? I have become an empty nester at such the young and tender age of 28. You may think I jest, but it's true. I'm the one with the empty house, and it is THEY who have left for greener pastures (not hard to do if you're leaving Utah -- everything is greener, except maybe Vegas). Here's a couple treasured pic's from their open house the night before they left. I spent my first evening without them at home cleaning up from the party. It was SOOOO quiet. I could barely stand it. It's a really good thing I have a roommate moving in. If I didn't, I'd probably go mad.

My Favorite Room

Hurrah! Hurrah! Last night, I hung sconces on the wall! It may not be the final touch in renovating my bathroom, but it is ONE of the final touches. And pardon my french, but they look !@*& good on that wall. Right next to the picture I bought that accents the room perfectly. The room would totally be incomplete without that picture. Good thing I found it.

You heard me right. Yes, indeed. I have actually taken some interest in my dwelling place and have renovated the bathroom. Of course, I'm on a limited budget. So sadly enough, renovating did not include replacing that unsightly white & green linoleum on the floor. But I repainted and redecorated. That was a financial undertaking in itself. Apparently, metallic paint is expensive. So if you ignore the floor, being in my bathroom is a totally relishable experience.

Oh, and I must give credit where credit is due. My sister was kind enough to offer her services in repainting the room with me for my birthday present. She spent from about 9am to almost 5pm on a Saturday helping me prep and paint. It made it go by a lot faster having four hands and someone to chat with throughout the process. She's a wonder. That's what she was doing for her "day off" from her five children. And then, of course, Male helped me. I ran into some trouble putting in the screws for the sconces and in figuring out how to work the caulking. Did I mention I'm not very handy? Fortunately, he proved to be most helpful on both those fronts. So, thank you, thank you, thank you.

So, I will put pictures up on the blog so all of you can see. I remembered to take BEFORE pictures right after I tore down the wallpaper, which was a little too late. So, sorry for not being able to promise you those. You may not completely understand the degree to which this bathroom has experienced a remarkable transformation. Those who have been to my house may remember the somewhat unremarkable or luckily forgettable experience of visiting my restroom.

I can describe briefly the ugliness that was my bathroom: On the bottom half of the wall below the railing there was a nasty, safari green paint. On the top of the wall and all over the vanity/sink area there was this tan/khaki, linen-textured wallpaper that had big brown faded palm leaves all over. And there was nothing worthy of calling decor to be seen in there.

And now? Oh, it's lovely. I should be an interior designer. It is SOOO much better. I still have to redo some caulking, but I think that will be the finishing touch. I can't help revelling in it during the ending phases of the renovation process. Over the last few days, I've taken every opportunity to just sit in there because it's so nice.

It might be recommendable that I renovate a room that would be more appropriate to hang out in, like my bedroom or the kitchen or living room. The kitchen....ooh.... that would be a smart way to get me to hang out in there. Ah, well, I'll have to save up for it, so it won't be happening at least within the next month. After all, the holidays are coming. But when I DO get around to the next room, I promise to remember to provide BEFORE and AFTER pictures.

Anti-Bucket

My recent musings come from a late night experience I had last week. I was home playing a game of spider solitaire on the computer and having my near-daily dose of ice cream. Now, I'll be honest. Spider solitaire has become an obsession. I finally had to delete it off my work computer because it was SO distracting. And I don't admit to people how often I've been playing it because I think it's ridiculous. It's one of the few things that will draw me to the computer when I'm not at work -- that and selling things on Ebay. And I'm not sure why I play it because it actually frustrates the crap out of me. Is the difficult level really winnable every time? Because I can only seem to win every 20 times or so. It could just be that I suck. But I prefer to think that winning would be impossible. It makes me feel smarter. :)

Anyhow, before I sat down to my love/hate computer game, I got a bowl of ice cream. As I mentioned previously, I've been in the habit of eating ice cream almost every day lately. So, on I went about my daily business. As I was scooping, I noticed I was starting to reach the bottom of my stockpile. Normally, when this happens, the only thing I'm thinking is, "Oh no! Must buy more ice cream!" This time, however, I was disconcerted for an entirely different reason.

This particular container of ice cream was a large bucket -- the kind that when you get to the bottom you risk getting your whole arm sticky trying to dig down to its plunging, vat-like depths. Those buckets are GINORMOUS. They would feed entire villages for weeks in third world countries if they could afford the expensive temperature-controlled shipping costs to get them there.

By the way, I don't normally buy ice cream by the bucket. We happened to have this bucket left over from some event my mother had been a part of. And I'm all about left overs and free food. It was about half-full when I started (that comforts me slightly.). But the facts were, and still are, unsettling. My parents hadn't been eating any of this. So, I had only me, myself and I to hold accountable. I had, all by myself, eaten all the way down to the bottom of the bucket. And there I was. I'd hit rock bottom. Or bucket bottom. Whatever. If there were an ice cream rehab, at that moment I would have been motivated enough to admit myself.

All at once, I was keenly aware of the genius of those bite-sized Ben & Jerry cartons that look big enough to satiate an ant, and the liberation in Haagen Daz and other fine ice creams who only deal in smaller portions. The naked truth is you will never, EVER get to the bottom of the bucket with these ice creams. You may, indeed, consume just as many calories with all those wholesome, high-quality, full cream, more fat than exists in an entire cow ingredients, but it will be pint-sized calories. So, at least mentally, you'll feel much better.

Okay, so I was only somewhat traumatized, considering I ate my bowl of ice cream that night, regardless. And there is still a good serving or two left in the depths of the bucket. But it's been over a week and I can't stomach going back and finishing the bucket. It's a BUCKET for pete's sake! I may secretly over-indulge in spider solitaire, and maybe even shopping. But an ice cream bucket is where I draw the line.

Who is responsible?

So, I had a phone call from a friend the other day, and everything was fine and normal. We chat pretty much daily, so not much changes necessarily from day to day. However, today, she called, I had absolutely nothing to talk about. As a matter of fact she was busy doing some monotonous task and just wanted to be entertained.

My question I thus pose is, who is responsible to carry the conversation? Is it the person who called or the recipient of the call? Initially, I would assume that the initiator or caller is responsible to 1. have something to talk about, or 2. ask some sort of questions to further the conversation.

Thoughts?

Mormon Funerals

The other day my S.O., whom we shall name "Girl", had her grandfather pass away. It was the first time she has ever lost a close family member, and from what I could tell, the only time she had ever been to a funeral.

We chatted about it a bit, and it brought to mind the differences between Mormon funerals and non-mormon funerals in the United States and probably Europe as well. Please bear in mind that these are generalities and I am sure there are groups that do not share a majority of qualities with either one.

From my experience, which is fortunately not a plethora of trips to the funeral home, Mormon funerals have a bit of a sad longing to them, but more often than not, are surprisingly upbeat. There are those staples of food that seem to show up no matter where you are, but in Utah especially you have the jello with vegetables mixed in (how can you eat that stuff?), something called funeral potatoes, some sort of dinner roles, and of course the beloved watered down drink mix.

Mormon funerals usually take place in the chapel, where there will be a short service. I think it is quite common to have a viewing shortly before the service in the Relief Society room, as Mormons don't adhere to the traditional have a viewing for 2 or 3 days at a funeral home idea. Once at the funeral site, a short prayer, a few words of wisdom, and then we all depart for the cultural hall where the aforementioned food is eaten. It is here where the spirits are generally upbeat, a lot of chatter, kids running around crazy, and whatever else is going on.

Mormons don't usually wear all black. If you wear it to church, you can probably wear it to a Mormon funeral (unless of course you go to church in sandals and a tank top.) Overall, most people oddly enough come back feeling like they had a pretty good time. Odd, but true. You don't look forward to a funeral, but more often than not, Mormons get all excited about the people that they will see that they haven't seen in so long more so than the fact that anyone has actually passed away. Odd? I say probably, but it has a lot to do with Mormons not viewing death as such a horrible thing (although we do miss dearly those that pass.) but as a stepping stone.

From my experience, non-mormon funerals are awfully depressing. Often there is a viewing for a few days at a funeral home. Then the service will take place in a church somewhere or the funeral home. If in a church, it is often with some sort of mass. Please wear black, as everyone does, and for some reason there is no color allowed. That bright pink shawl you have been waiting to wear? Keep waiting!

Often times there will be some sort of a reception afterwards, but no loud laughter, children are almost forbidden to attend, and well, conversations are subdued. People are gentile and nice, but as can be understood, not in the slightest happy.

One funeral experience I had, I will never forget. As the casket was lowered, each person would go up and take a trowel full of dirt and throw it on top of the lowered coffin. Some also throw flowers. It was the oddest experience.

If you can picture it in your mind, you walk up to this hole in the earth, where the casket has just been lowered. There is that fake green carpet/grass laid around the grave, and a container of dirt on a pedestal with a trowel in it. As you walk up, it is almost impossible not to look down and see the myriad of things that have been thrown down there by people before you, small mementos, flowers, and piles of dirt. As you grasp the cold handle of the trowel and scoop up some dirt, you throw it down to hear a "thud" echoed out from the grave.

One of the most depressing experiences I have had at a funeral. I felt like I personally was burying them for eternity in that little hole with dirt on top of them, and I don't even believe it, but the actions were so pronounced and strong that the experience has stayed with me all these years.

Anyways, so yes, that is my impression of the differences between Mormon and non-mormon funerals. If you think I am wrong, or would like to add something that I may have forgotten, feel free to comment along!

P.S. Girl is doing quite well

Jane Austin Quiz

If Only I'd read Persuasion. I might have a clue who I am.

Take the Quiz here!

First Client

Well, I thought I would tell you all that despite our sluggish posting, and inconsistency, I have alas, signed my first client. Can we have a party? Maybe, maybe not, but nonetheless, I feel pretty happy about it. Not sure how, why, or what happened, but I should get a nice check in the mail soon.

Things have been very odd since I was all so suddenly unemployed, but fortunately, people want to pay me a lot more money than my old boss ever did. Go figure! You get fired, and then people want to pay you more money for less work. I don't know how that works but so goes it.

Anyways, that being said, now I have to figure out what to do in my free time....hmmmm.......I guess I could write more often on this blog!