Monday, April 30, 2012

A RED LETTER WEEK! (Part the First- The First Half)

The week of April 16th- April 23rd was a very important week for our family. A RED LETTER WEEK, as Daddy likes to say. I'd been looking forward to this week for months, because Mama and Spud were coming down on Monday (April 16), and then we were dropping off Spud at the MTC on Wednesday, Andy's parents and Gma (his mom's mom) where coming Thursday morning, and then on Thursday and Friday was GRADUATION for Andy and I! OH HAPPY DAY! Sunday and Monday would be family departure dates. It was going to be the best week since the beginning of this year! The only downside was that Daddy wouldn't be able to come. Daddy is a professor over at another school, and the week of my graduation was the week before his finals- it was hard for him to wrestle out of it. I told him I loved him all the same, and that I understood-even if I didn't like it one stinking bit!

The semester was wrapping up like a two-year-old wraps up your own junk with toilet paper to give you for your birthday: messy and catastrophic to the cleanliness of our humble abode. I had stress and insanity coming out my eyeballs till I couldn't see straight any more.


Andy had engineering coming out his nose, he was doing so many problems and equations and projects.


While it may appear that the stress load made his head short and fat, this is not because of the math above his head. I would like to point out that the equation pictured in the image above is not an accurate representation of Andrew's homework. His math involves a lot of pretty squiggles, some stuff that look like the letter S or F, some Greek letters, and [insert numbers and symbols here]/[even more complicated stuff here] kind of things. I just drew the kind of math that I can do! The chimes: Andy made a piano mechanism with a group in one of his classes- they had to do a project that would be able to teach 4th graders something about science. It was a neat project. Especially the part when he cut the pipes to length and hung them on our shower rod and started whacking at them with my 3 pound dumbbells. Ya. Real cool. Berg: Andy's capstone project was for a company called Schlumberger, but the boys called themselves Team Berg. I'm going to let Andy explain that stuff in his own post. It's really neat, but filtered through me, it would probably be more poorly executed algebra.

I just wrote lots of papers and did lots of projects for my English and Humanities classes. Holy snarkwaffles, but that was a long and difficult week. I seem to have snapped before the end, though, because by Wednesday of finals week, I was just floating along, not even caring if I made it to my last final on time. Andy was surprised, but noted that it must be due to the fact that all the stress and insanity had already seeped out of my eyeballs. (See below.)

When Monday the 16th came, I was all sorts of excited. And nervous. Andrew's Evil Test of Doomsdayness and Despair was the next day. He had been studying so hard, but if he bombed the test, then passing the class might not be an option. Unless we used covert action. Like cookies. I make good pie. The plan was to get Andy to bed early so that he would be plenty rested for his big test. Mama and Spud were going to rent a car at the airport and drive down the hour ride to our place, getting here at about 1:00 AM or so. I tidied everything up, then set up the air mattress, and set out blankets on the couch, and fluffed things up to be pretty and cozy. Then I tiptoed into bed where Andy was already dozing.

An hour or so later, my phone rang. Mama told me that she was in front of my door! I leaped out of bed, smashed my glasses on my face, threw a sweater on, and ran out to get the door for her. I made sure to close the bedroom door gently so as to not wake the sleeping engineer. When I opened the door to let Mama in, Spud wasn't with her. I gave her a hug, and went out to the parking lot to help her with the bags. I hugged Spud and dragged some bags up the stairwell with the two of them.

When I got back inside, I noticed a human shaped lump under the neatly made up blankets on the couch. I became seriously peeved- I had spent all that time making this all cute, and Andy comes shambling out of the bedroom and chucks himself in the cute set up when he is SUPPOSED to be asleep?! I was in shock and confusion.


That's right, folks! Daddy came and surprised me! *Please Note: I don't remember what I/other people actually said, only what happened. For verification of truthfulness of events, ask my mother.* Basically, I freaked out and jumped around, then hugged Daddy, then jumped around, then hugged Daddy again, continue ad nauseam. Then we sat down and talked for a long time. I was so happy Daddy came! It was the best graduation gift I could have asked for!

The next morning, we had breakfast, then chatted for a bit, then studied a lot more, and then Andy and I mosied on up the hill to take some tests, while Mama, Daddy, and Spud went to get some last minute things for Spud before he went into the Missionary Training Center. It turns out that my teacher had told us the incorrect time for the final, and so I was there an hour early. Oh well. More study time. I ended up being the third one done, so I felt smart. Andy and I both felt we did well on our tests, which is good. Andy's test mattered. Good thing he studied so much!

I got to hang out with Spud some, just the two of us. It was really nice. I got to talk to him about memories, and future plans, and how awesome his mission call was. He's only been in the MTC for a week and a half, but I feel like it's been forever. I am comforted by knowing that he's doing the right thing in the right place. (More about dropping off Spud in the next post- including my repeated failures with cameras. This was not my week with picture taking technologies.)

Wednesday dawned. The final final day. The day we dropped off Elder Spud at the MTC. The day we would be finished with college.

It happened. It was at this point that I stopped being invested in caring about grades or thinking. My brain shut off with my worrying centers. Mental productivity levels decreased drastically, except the part that came up with creative ways to avoid thinking. That was a go. We took our last finals, and then rushed home. We went out to eat at the Creamery on 9th, since Andy and I had to use up the rest of our meal plan monies before the deadline. We ate, celebrated that finals were over, then fell over and crashed asleep.

And can I just tell you something? Sleep is a wonderful thing. Floating out on the lagoon of sleep after finals week is like sipping cool lemonade freshly poured from one of those awesome fat glass pitchers. It's like lying down in the warm grass with the sprinklers going on a hot, hot day in July. It's like when you're at the cinema, and the movie *FINALLY* starts after all of those looooooong previews. It's also like being hit upside the head with a 20 pound bag of potatoes. You're just knocked out. 

Sunday, April 29, 2012

The Find that Changed Our Lives

*NOTE!: This post was created an goodly amount of time ago, but wasn't finished due to finals and school and awesome stuff like that. The adventures of that other awesome stuff will be detailed in a following post.*

Dear Family, Friends, Acquaintances, and Those Who Happen Upon This Collection of Somewhat Ridiculous Posts:

This post contains a story, a celebration, and an informative blurb, all for your reading enjoyment. Huzzah for all of you!

So last week, Andy and I went on a Study/Homework Date on Friday. I know, how exciting can married people get on a weekend?! Good thing that we kept it low-key. We didn't want to make all the single people feel bad about not having a good looking person to do homework with. So anyway, we went on a Study/Homework Date to the Cannon (it's that cafeteria/eating place on campus-it's a buffet with lots of tasty food and lots of people go there, mostly freshman, because it's on their turf since they don't even HAVE kitchens, so cooking your own food isn't an option... sorrowful day!). And we ate food and did homework. And since we had been homeworking just about all week, I was an oodle by the time we were going home around 8:00 or so.

I was paying very little attention to the area or space around me because I was busy telling Andrew about something really important. Andrew was paying attention to me.


As we were walking home, Andy noticed something that would change our lives. Seriously. It would.


That's right. An adorable, itty bitty TV set. It's got about a 13 inch screen. That's like 3 inches smaller than my laptop. It also has a built in VCR in the front, complete with cool buttons. It has one of those old school not-flat screens, like a little potbelly on the front of a very short elderly gentleman. And it was just sitting out there in front of the dumpster. ALONE! Who would ever want to get rid of such a treasure?

So while I walked innocently on, pretending that I had nothing to do with the dumpster-not-diving-but-swiping-from-the-premises-of-the-general-area-around-the-dumpster activities in which Andy was deeply submerged, Andy became the swiper of the item from the premises previously mentioned. That's right. WE TOOK IT HOME WITH US!

To those of you who don't know, this is exciting. This is a big step in our marital career. This is our first TV!

When we brought it home, the only place we had to put it was on one of our two chairs. That meant that we only had one chair left. But that's ok. We stopped eating at the table a little while ago when it became a stack of important papers and things that we couldn't lose. Paradoxically, the table is also the place where we lose the most things. Strange how that tends to happen...

Andy hooked up a few wire things, and shortly thereafter, we were really happy to be watching TV on our very own little TV, not down in the lounge or someone else's little (or big, as generally the case presents itself) TV. We found America's Funniest Home Videos, the local high school basketball game, and, our favorite, WOMEN OF NINJA WARRIOR! And then I found a show that was my doom... Say Yes to the Dress... *sigh* Poor Andy. I love weddings, I love dresses. I don't love drama, but the other two aspects made up for it. Andy had to wait until I was deliriously sleepy enough to drag my off to bed. Literally. I was too fussy for him to pick me up and carry me.


Note from Andrew: This is NOT an exaggeration. She likes princess dresses. She also gets delusional and irrational when she's really tired (and sometimes when she isn't).

I'll be writing another post (because I can do that now that school is out and I am starting to recover brain cells enough to write coherent sentences. Huzzah!) about how this little black box really affected us in the weeks that followed this critical find.

In other news, today and yesterday was General Conference, a wonderful and magnificent gathering of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints where we get to listen to living prophets and apostles tell us the will of the Lord. What a wonderful blessing that is!

Author's Note: (I've written this post, and you know that I've written it, so I don't know why I included the fact that this note is from myself.) I realized that I started this blog with the intentions that people read it and know that Andrew and I are still alive and functioning on some level. I realized also that I have been posting once in a green moon, and that our families and friends may get concerned when there is no wordage or verbage from us Weird Ones. However, I started drawing pictures and getting all sorts of excited about that aspect of the blog. And then I stopped posting unless I had time to draw cool pictures, or if I had something that might be remotely interesting to other people. So now I'm in the midst of deciding whether or not I should continue this trend. I'm thinking that I might not have all the posts be pictorial posts. I know that may be depressing, but it will also get me writing more posts, and put me back in the habit of communications. Isn't communication crucial to good relationships? I don't know. I guess that I'll let the public decide on that one.


Friday, March 23, 2012

Two Tales of A Liberty Fort, Not Bell

Aunt Libby is a wonderful woman. She takes after the Chelson trait of beauteous moments of exceeding embarrassment and ridiculousness happening in bizarre situations at non-opportune times and places. Uncle Jason is her fantabulous husband, who measures at a mere 7 feet tall. Oh wait, he's only like... 6'8" or something tiny like that. Please know that Libby has some snazzy and attractive pajama pants that should bring joy and happiness to all that have the privilege to behold them.

So listen, dear children, for I have to tell, 
Two tales of a Liberty Fort, not Bell.

Libby decided that food would be nice
She desired a sandwich, and a drink with some ice
On she ventured till at last she did find
Something to sate both her body and mind.


"Huzzah! Tasty food that won't stretch my pants,
I'll have some nice meat to go with those plants!"
And on she did go, and went in the door-
To see a back of the head she'd seen before.


"Oh gee whiz, it's my ward mission leader,
It is quite a chance to meet at this feeder,
A place with cuisine to make you feel fine,
Even when eating at a quarter till nine!"

Well, he went away, and soon after that,
Lib felt a breeze as her pants fell down flat!
Not exactly flat, though, more rumpled, 
And frumpled, and maybe a bit grumpled.


"Would you look at that!" thought our lady fair,
"It would seem I'm without my cool bit of flair!
My stylish pants, that I thought of with care,
Have left without thought of how I would fare!"

Thus Lib did look down from her lofty height,
And did ruminate on the fact that she could fight
And wrangle with the fact that she did not mind
For at least she was not showing her whole behind.

Libby leaned down and pulled up her pants
And, while Jason did order their meat and plants,
She went to set herself down in their car
And find some relief from the breeze from down thar.

*End Poem*

Basically, I took a lot of poetic license with that story. I'm not a very good poet, so I need a whole lot of license to make it sorta-kinda-maybe-almost work. Ya. What happened is that Libby was in Subway, and her pants fell down. In public. In Subway. Her pants fell down.

Isn't that HILARIOUS?!

And this weekend, Libby is down here visiting nieces and nephews and going to concerts and having fun with cool people (like us and Porter, we are so cool!). Last night, the four of us went out to CRAIGO'S (or Pizza Pie Cafe down here), which is an amazingly pizzaed place that helps you get pizzaed as well. It's a buffet, so you pay before you go sit down- and Libby got REAL EXCITED because she was going to pay with EXACT CHANGE!!!!! Here you go, Mr. Order Taking Man!

Except...


But wait...


Apparently they've changed a few things since the last time saw a nickel and a quarter. Like basic size. And pictures. And monetary values. But it's all good. Because we love Libby. And that's the Gospel Truth!!


So there are two stories about the best Aunt Libby in the entire universe. I'm sure everyone is jealous and wishes that they had their very own Aunt Libby- but they can't. This one is ours. And we love her more than ever- and not just for the entertainment value.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

That One Time I Had Surgery and Almost Died

On Monday, February 6, I had an oral surgery. That is part of one of the many reasons that I haven't written a whole bunch. The other is that I'm busy. The other other reason is that I forget sometimes until someone yells at me, and then I have to apologize and go write a post in their honor. Anywho and twinkle stars, I had oral surgery. It was a bit of a surprise. I went in to the dentist with an "emergency toothache" appointment, and went out with the knowledge that I needed to find a specialist who may or may not be able to save my tooth.

It turns out that I had a large abscess under one of my back teeth, and the infection was deteriorating the tooth root as well the the jaw bone around it. Not good. So they put me on antibiotics to help me while I found someone who specializes in root canal treatments. WHO DOES THAT?!

So we found a specialist, went in for a consultation- he looked at some x-rays and pronounced the sentence:



I almost died. I don't do well with needles, sutures, death, dogs, hyenas, dentists, or killer mole rats. I just don't. Andy was swell, though, and took over from there. Once he set up the appointment for the surgery ("SOONER rather than later would be ideal," said the not-about-to-be-operated-upon-specialist-in-horror-scenarios), Andy took me back home and we prepared a list of meals that I could eat without teeth. It mostly involved yogurt and soup. Lots of soup. There was a sale on soup, actually, so we REALLY stocked up. Like, we have a whole shelf with nothing but soup upon it.

The Day of Doom arrived. I grabbed Francis (my teddy bear who comforts me when I am unwell) and marched resolutely out the door to meet my sure destruction. Andy came too. We got to the dentist's and went in. They took us back and let Andy sit in the corner. He held on to my leg the entire time. I shook it a little every now and then to assure him that I hadn't passed out from an overdose of panic, laughing gas, and sheer adrenaline. I closed my eyes the whole time so I wouldn't see any sharp implements passing over my head and into my mouth, pointy side down. "That was quick and good" according to the specialist, and they stitched me up, and gave Andy a little baggy with a how-to guide of taking care of delusional wives in their post-op states, and a mouth wash, a SUPER soft toothbrush, some chapstick, and an ice pack I was to keep on for 15 minutes, off for 15 minutes for the rest of the day.

I was so numb that I had that bizarre fwumple sensation halfway down my throat, and up to my inner nostril. I was very swollen and didn't know what was happening. When we got home, I called my Mama to tell her that "I HAD THURGERY!" and that I was all done with it.


Andy looked at the list of TO-DO TO CARE FOR YOUR LOONY PATIENT, and noticed the food requirements:
  1. Soft foods
  2. No chewing
  3. No hot foods
No "hot foods" meant no soup. Guess what? Soup was just about all we had. Oh well, Andy sighed. He had to run to class, and I was needing sleep. He put everything that I would need on the bed next to me, made sure I was wrapped up in my fuzzy pink blanket, and got me a raspberry yogurt to eat when I could. He also got me a paper towel so I could clean my numb self up after eating gloppy stuff while being unable to open my mouth more than a centimeter or so.

And then Andy left. I was ALONE.


Thanks to the numbing stuff, lingering effects of laughing gas, and the pain meds I was instructed to take, I was a loopy loony oodle flubble. Seriously. I was.

I sat around for a long time. I napped. I hungered. I struggled to reach forth my tired hand and lift mine yogurt to mine lips, because I felt like Thor.


Granted, it was only at a very specific moment in the movie, but still. I felt like Thor when he was hungry. And, unfortunately, yogurt isn't the most sustaining of foods, and I was still hungry. I also felt like a baby because I had to wipe my face after every bite to get all that stuff that didn't make it into my (for once) tiny mouth. Sheesh.

I called my mother, who is in Tennessee, and not at my house, and doesn't know what I have in my kitchen, and can't get it for me anyway, and asked her what I could eat, because I was so hungry. She asked what I had. I didn't know. I lurched out of bed and hobbled over to the fridge looking like I was Quasimodo's ugly step-sister.


I know because I saw myself in the mirror as I passed by. I also noticed that the area around the surgical area was really red and swollen. It looked like there was some pretty bad bruising coming up. Darn. All I needed when I went back to school the next day. To look like a cross between a lunatic troll and a madwoman ogre. With a giant bruise on my face. The only plus side is that the whole left side of my neck and face were COMPLETELY numb. It actually didn't wear off until the middle of the night.

I told Mama what was in my fridge. She told me what to eat. So I ate that. The kids all took turns on the phone talking at me since I couldn't really speak all that well. I felt contented, having feasted on loads of applesauce, and went to sleep ensconced in my beautiful pink blanket. It's fuzzy, soft, warm, and a lovely shade of pink, just like everything else I own.

When I woke up a while later, I grabbed my phone to check the time. I was hoping that Andy would be home soon. My ice pack had melted, and I had been using frozen peas in a plastic grocery sack on my face. I had basically slept with it as my pillow. As I was getting up, I felt a pulling on my lower cheek (near the surgical area) from the ice pack. I pulled the ice pack away from my face. I looked at it. There was something on that ice pack. Something that looked a whole lot like it had been a part of my face... Skin. My skin was on the ice pack. My FACE skin.

I grabbed my phone again. My phone has a large shiny and reflective touch screen, and it can be used as a small, somewhat deceiving mirror in a pinch. I looked into it to check out my hypothesis and how bad the damage was. Oh fwumple crackers and a bowl of fresh potato soupMy face was FALLING OFF!


I naturally freaked, made a strange delirious noise of horror, kind of like one that Frankenstein would make in a scary black and white film adaptation, and *clutched* my face. THE HORROR! I didn't know what to do. Andy wouldn't be home for a while yet, and I was afraid to call him. I didn't want to move my jaw for fear that it would loosen more of the skin. I didn't even want to take my hand away because that might pull MORE of my face off of my face!

Just as I was about to burst into hysterical tears of terror and madness, I noticed something. The skin that was attached to the ice pack had tiny dark flecks in it. Looking closer, I noticed that they looked a lot like...

...raspberry seeds.

I pulled my hand away from my face. It was true. I had had a major and nearly fatal heart attack because a streak of Yoplait 99% fat free Raspberry Yogurt fell on my face.

Andy came home to me sticking my face into the Cone of Shame, only the Cone was my little yogurt cup. He laughed and asked. I looked pathetic and didn't answer.

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