Thursday, December 29, 2011

I'm So Attractive

So I feel like I'm a very attractive young lady. This notion of mine is reinforced by this lovely drawing by Andy's sister Mack. 

I like her. She draws very well. And I think she is a looker as well.

 She's the same age as my sister Karmina. And we all love the two of those dears. Karmina draws amazing pictures. And she is so talented! She even took art lessons for a while.

And that last picture is one of my awesome siblings, Fat Boy. Way cute. It has nothing to do with anything, but it makes me happy all the same.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

My Excuse for Not Writing Since... A While...

Dear Family and Friends,


That being said, I shall move on with m'excusing and all that jazz.

You see, dear ones, The Man and I are taking many a class this semester, and sometimes the weight of the world really comes down hard on us.

And can I just tell you that the world really is quite heavy? Those Americans need to cut back on the French Fries, I'm telling you that! (PS! FREE FRIES TOMORROW AT BURGER KING! You'd better believe Andy and I will be first in line!)

It wasn't that I didn't want to write to you. I did. Really, I did. But every time I was going to, something along the following lines happened:

I'm a happy person. I can blog, talk to family, manage homework, and spend time with Andrew. 

And then....


I tried to adjust to the increased workload by looking ahead and scheduling-use that planner!

But I didn't know that life had MORE pranks!

I decided that I would try to hide from some of the evil homework/random things demanding my time. It was actually working for a little while.

But that didn't last long.

But now I am here. I am DONE WITH FINALS for the semester, and I couldn't be happier about it! HUZZAH HURRAH AND... BA...RAHhhh....? (I need another celebratory word starting with "H"...)I will have to time to blog about adventures and episodes of bizarreness of which this chronicle is an long tome (or should be, anyway).

So you now have my excuses and my apologies and my promise to be better and my bribery to be patient so you can have more knowledge of the Golden Times of Tashy and Randy.

*PS. I suppose that this whole excuse should work on account of Andrew as well, since he was more or less in the same rocky boat careening down the melancholic and very active stream of death.*

Friday, October 21, 2011

Trying To Be Nice, Ending Up The Weirdo Head of Newlyweds

So, you know when you say something completely benign and innocent, and everyone around you thinks that you mean something else? And then you stand there stupidly because you see no escape? That's so awful! And then you spend the rest of the evening thinking about what those other people think of you now that you've said that formerly innocent and benign statement?

Ya. The world of Tashya just got less than awesome.

I was at a fireside tonight for the Relief Society. I was so pumped at the end of it! It was awesome! I was going to be the best person ever! I was going to be the AWESOME-EVERYONE'S-FRIEND-AND-COOL-COMRADE person! So, acting in accordance with these new found urges and idiotic resolution, I went against my normal self. Silly me.

We talked a whole lot.

And that was happening all fine and dandy like. Look at me, being all social! I was talking, making conversation, gushing about our weddings, etc, blah, blah, blah, and all that jazz. And then... I started thinking. Never a good idea.

KNOW , right?
Anyway, on to me starting to think, without Beauty and the Beast butting in.

This is the moment where I think that, "Hey, Tashya, why don't you just not say anything you don't agree with? How about you just shoosh it up? How about you just keep talking about cookies?"

THEN comes the moment where I ignore my own rarely appearing good sense, and I say something that doesn't even really apply to my current situation.

So why did I say that? I don't know. Every time I felt like I needed to talk to someone, I just talked to Andy. And it was great. He's my best friend! If I wanted to talk to a girl, I just called up Mama, because she's my other best friend! I mean, why did I just make myself sound like an emotionally unstable young lady?

Well, apparently I wasn't the only one who came up with an interesting translation of my thoughtless, yet well meaning, utterance.

This is what they said in response. (All things that I would normally be the one saying.)

This is what they were thinking.

They were talking about how all they wanted to do was to spend time with their wonderful husbands, and how great their husbands were, and how nice it was to spend time with them, and that maybe'd they'd spend time with other people in a year or so. All the while, I was wondering why I had even said that because, guess what? I'm just like the other girls! I hate RS because I can't sit with Andrew! I mean, how pathetic is that! And why would I WANT to spend time with those girls when I could be spending time with my Andrew?! I mean, between schoolwork and schoolwork and schoolwork, Andrew and I don't really have a lot of time to be together. So why would I waste that time on girls?

And then I went home and told Andrew that I did, in fact, love him a lot, and that no matter what nasty and pernicious rumors began circulating, he should know that I'd rather spend time with him than any RS girl. Because I don't smoke weed or drink beer.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

On an Addition Problem

Hello, everyone. I’m the other proprietor of this blog, Andrew.

I may write on it as well, from time to time, to add a few cents of my own or to set the record straight. If I don’t write often, it’s not that I have anything against it, but it’s a combination of several factors. First, I’m not as natural a writer as my darling, wonderful wife, Tashya. Second, she is. Third, she’s really lovely, too. Fourth, I spend my time doing lots of homework. (As I planned this post, I actually envisioned myself making a picture of my teachers and what they were thinking… but Tashya took that idea right out my head and then did a better job with it than I would have done.) Some of my homework assignments are a little like the following:
Semester project: Make an oil well. That is INVINCIBLE:

Make cold Nuclear fusion. On a $25 budget:

Solve this equation: 

Solve world peace:

Needless to say, I’m often busy. You’ll notice a theme – engineers like to make things or fix things. Some people simply assume I FIX THINGS. Like, any problem, upon my looking at it, can be resolved just as easily as saying, “Ah… I see!” Which, although occasionally true, is sadly not the case. Hence the above homework problems still lacking completion.

Enough about me.

So for today’s lecture, I would like to pose a question: What happens when you add a Tashya and a Squeakyhammer?

First, we need to cover what a Tashya is. A Tashya is a pretty lady who is intelligent, kind, thoughtful, lovely, and wonderful. This particular Tashya is better than all of the rest and is also my wife. And she also has a mischiveous streak a mile and a half wide. On a good day.

A Squeakyhammer is an inflatable hammer, standing about four feet tall, that most commonly presents itself in bright, flourescent colors. You have probably seen one like it somewhere. Squeakyhammers are a more specific breed of inflatable hammers, however, in that they squeak when you hit something with them. We have ourselves acquired a pair of such hammers, but how that happened is another story altogether. Suffice it to say that a squeakyhammer or two does present itself on occasion.

Now, the addition in question is also worth discussing. Normally, you would think of it as meaning the giving an item like a squeakyhammer to someone. In this case, however, the Tashya is most sneaky, and addition may present itself in the form of her sneaking the hammer, her sneaking up behind you with the hammer, her waking you up with the hammer in hand, or her luring you over to her when she insists she doesn’t have any malicious intent at all:

Well, what happens, you ask? Well, what do you think? As Einstein said, “Everyone is a genius. But if you judge a fish on its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”
She pounces on you and smacks you with the squeakyhammer until silly.  

Until you’re silly.

Or until she’s silly.

(But chances are one of you was silly to begin with).

Anyways, we have our answer for today’s discussion. Please join me next time for another enlightening discussion.

Homework this week: Watch your back when you hear someone tiptoeing up behin.. .AAAAHHHHH…...aaia ;li s[oyhp iausghpugb!!!!!

I'm a Pizza

Well, this week was hectic. No, more like it was characterized by activity, excitement, and/or confusion. There was a lot of homework assigned. You know what? I think that teachers just sit around and think we're bored, or we don't have anything else in life but their ONE class, or they're just downright sadistic and diabolical.

A real highlight this week was Monday. I was to give a French oral presentation class. It wasn't really supposed to be a scary thing, especially since this isn't a SPEAKING class, it's a LITERATURE class. That means we're not heavily graded on our speaking intelligence (which is REALLY great). Well, thanks to an excessively busy weekend, I didn't have as much time to prepare as I would have liked. That meant that I was doubly freaking out about this get-up-in-front-of-the-class-and-speak-intelligently-in-another-language-even-though-I-can't-speak-English thing.

Andrew, in his general goodness, took some time out of his busy schedule of homework to try to help me.

As useful as this effort was, it only served to make me more agitated when the little red YUMMIES! were gone away from me.

Andrew and I go to campus at 8:00 every morning for his Captstone class. I don't have class until 9:00. I spent an hour outside of my classroom awaiting my sure doom. Andrew sent many reassuring texts, and I promptly ignored them in my determinedness to vizualize the future of the world after my French presentation. It wasn't looking good.

I was going to single-handedly be the cause of the destruction of the entire world.

It was with this vision fresh in my mind that I heard my name called by my teacher in class. I went to the front of the room. All of the students were so eager to learn. They looked at me in great expectation, faces beaming with anticipation. They looked at me. I returned the favor, being too paralyzed to speak.

The class was growing dismayed at my lack of speech and awkward blank expression. People began to look concerned. I opened my mouth ...

And nothing came out. This didn't help matters. I took a deep breath, gathered my courage like a pig gathers truffles, and spoke.

My teacher and classmates seemed less weirded out when they heard some sound coming out of my mouth. They probably thought that I was needing to go through the entire evolution of speech just to give my 5-7 minute French presentation on Christine de Pizan. Taking some pride in my minute success, I again pulled in my five wits, and launched into my first use of words since Andrew had left me in front of my classroom that morning. I and my entire class wish I hadn't.

I just knew that the aliens were preparing to blast the world into smithereens. Why did I have to give MY presentation on the ONE DAY that the genteel, French-speaking aliens were passing by in their nifty flying machines?! I could see them in my mind's eye: ZUT ALORS! They were calling for backup! More alien ships approached Earth even as I was speaking! Earth was finished! I was responsible for billions of deaths!

The next thing I knew, I was sitting down in my desk, right next to my friend Tara. A while later, after some other presentations, class was over. I walked out of the room, not really looking where I was going, or what was going on. I sat down outside and waited for Andy. When he came, he gave me an expectant look. I gave him a blank, glazed over expression. He offered me a hug. I took the cinnamon bears.

Sweet solace found in a little red gummy. Who cares if I'm a pizza? Who cares if I told everyone? Who cares if the aliens are going to kill us all? Life was going to be alright.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Celebration of Womb Emancipation Days!

It is a season of festivities around this time of year. Yours truly is the second of ten children, and we like to blob up together in our birthdays. We have three birthdays in September, and four in October. Now, thanks, to Andrew, we have four in September as well. (This isn't counting extended family, which would hike up the numbers in a lovingly wonderful way.) 

The Septembers

This fine fellow pictured below is mine Daddy. He's a wonderful man. He taught me how to work and how to love knowledge and music. Thanks to him, I love the smell of construction sites, especially halogen lights. Those things are the best ever!
"You can pick your friends, you can pick your nose, but you can't pick your friend's nose." 
"It's Operator Malfunction."

A strapping lad of ten years, this boy is an absolute Beast. Isn't he adorable? He'll turn into a Prince, that's for sure. He makes touchdowns and interceptions and tackles and baskets and passes and all sorts of sporty things. He's also got a great smile, and a tender heart. 
"Come and det it, wadies!"


"I have a food baby." 

Yup, I'm in this month. Actually, that day when I fell over and died with Francis on my head was the day after my birthday. You'll recognize my picture by now. (In case you didn't know, I'm the girl in the white dress in all of these pictures.)

This fine specimen of a man is old today! But that's alright, because I love him dearly still. He's a good man. He's smart, loves music and dancing, laughing and playing, and learning and discovering. He also fixes all the technology I break. 

The Octobers

                                 KEKKA the MELON
What a talker! And what a baker! Did you know that my favorite cake recipe comes from this girl? She likes to watch cool tv shows with me, like Martin the Warrior. She reads more books than are in existence, and she orbits in the back yard.

"Be gentle! You'll break the melon!"
"I forgot to put the eggs in..."
Now, Spud is just about as Studly as you can get. He's strong, stubborn, sweet, and loves cute things. He draws really neat pictures of Kiwis. He's probably one of the best brothers in the whole world, and I look up to him, both literally and figuratively. 

"I'm going to rule the world." 
"Isn't it so cute?!" 
"CLENCH! YOUR! ...."

Duke will make you fall on the floor, gasping with all of your might for one sweet breath of air- but you don't get it because you're laughing too hard. He loves his Mama, and shows it by bossing her around and/or making "your mom" jokes with me (but only when Mom is right there). His favorite color is sunshine yellow.

"My mommy wants me to go home now."
 "YOUR Mom's...!"

"Mom, stop." 

A little trickster and trouble maker in the guise of an angel, that's what she is! And I couldn't love her more. She's a miser, but has a generous heart when she sets her mind to it. She doesn't use original words if she doesn't have to, and she doesn't have to very often because she can quote every Disney (and several other) movie in the entire world. Talk about unoriginal originality!
"Eat your applesauce."  
"My dead."

Those are our birthdays for these two months. A very joyous time of festivities for the lot of you. We little children here at school love you all from afar, and send our love, hugs, and a small box of assorted cookies your way.

Friday, September 23, 2011

Feet VS. Shoes

In case you children were wondering, I probably should listen to Andrew more often. I got these really cute shoes a while ago, and I hadn't broken them in before school started. So I wore them to class. The backs of my feet fell off, so I didn't wear them again very soon. But on Thursday night, National Instruments (NI) was giving an info session (with free food!) and directly afterwards, we were going to a choir concert. 

After picking out my outfit and putting on my makeup, I felt ready to face the room full of engineers. And to listen to the strains of melodious melodies and harmonies. I think that it had something to do with the fact that I opened my mouth so widely to put my mascara on. I just inhaled some good vibes or something.

Against Andrew's express wishes and goodly advice, I slipped my dainty little foot into my darling little flats, and marched out the door towards a fantastic evening. 

We drove up to the Wilk, and parked there. Then we went and had free food from NI, and listened to the nice people talk. I remembered some of the guys from when they took us out to Tucanos a while back (in February). All of the recruiters came up and talked about how great it is to work at NI, and how amazing that company is. The great thing about it is that NI really IS a great company! That's where Andy did his internship this past summer, and he LOVED it. 

After the info session, we were walking to the HFAC to go to the concert. I noticed that my feet were a LEEEEEEETLE bit tender, but I didn't want to say anything to Andrew. I didn't want him to be right. So I suffered in silence with the knowledge that my feet were going to be very sore by the end of the night. I refused to take off my shoes or to show any sign of discomfort. As Mad-Eye Moody said, 

That doesn't really apply here, but it's a good quote all the same.

We went to the choir concert, where there was a lot of pretty music that Andy and I both loved and enjoyed very much. We're both music lovers, but we've been so busy lately that we haven't been able to enjoy much musicaling. But the Men's Chorus is a wonderfully fun group to listen to and to watch! How fun! The Concert Choir sang one of my favorite songs "Pilgrim's Hymn" by Stephen Paulus. The song sounds like this:

While we were there, we saw two really interesting things. One was a dude in the front row of the Men's Chorus. He liked to sway back and forth <------------> in a that-way-wardly kind of motion. The other was a little old lady who had donned one of her finest outfits especially for this auspicious occasion. 

Isn't she adorable? I think she is. We enjoyed her outfit as much as we enjoyed the fine music that was swarming about us like a fine scent hangs in the breeze in a flower garden in the sunshine.

On the way to the car after the concert, I had to start slowing down a little because of my feet. Andrew gave me a "look." I confessed that I might maybe kinda sorta have an itsy bitsy teeny weeny merest inkling of the formation of the idea of pain... But I refused help, sped up, and got to the car. And then we were... home. It had arrived. The moment of truth. Andrew and I walked in the door (I actually kinda lurched in just behind him). He looked at me. ............ I looked at him............. He looked at me. ........... Then I walked over to our closet to take off my shoes in peace. It didn't work. 

He and I had different opinions of the state on my lowerest limb.

What I said they felt like. 
*Note: ^Above image: A downright dirty lie, if there ever was one done told by an old mama bear sitting on a cactus in the rain forest!
What Andrew said they were like.

This was a gross exaggeration from a man who is very sweet, very loving, and very good at taking care of his wife, but no understanding of the proper ways to train a shoe. "Train a shoe while she is young, and when she has grown old, she will not depart from it!"

What they were actually like doesn't really match either of the above:

So... he was right. He's actually right a whole lot of the time. He's kinda a smart dude like that. 

That concludes the epic battle between foot and shoe. I lost this battle, but I feel like I've gained serious ground in the war of breaking in a new pair of flats. However, it was not without noticeable effect. Between my sore feet and still being a little sick, I was not wholly present while attempting to walk to classes today. There was much stumbling about, nearly falling over, and other general confusion. My teacher commented that he didn't notice much difference from any other day. I'm not sure how to take that comment.

But now Andy and I are home. It's been a long week, but it's nearly over. We both have tests and other nonsense tomorrow. Ptewie! AND it's Andy's birthday, too. Tomorrow or Sunday, I shall tell you all good news that can't be put up with this post, because it's entirely too random. Carry on, sweet children, and sleep sweet.