Dear U.S Immigration,

I know we haven't spoken in a while but I now that you've once again called upon my attention and my money, I have a few questions for you.
Remember how you had me and my (non-fake) husband send in copy after copy, document after document and endless amounts of proof that our marriage was not a fraud, remember that?
And how we did, and how you eventually granted me a temporary green card.... Well, now that it's been two years and we're still married and you are requesting all that paper work again (with a bran new check) it seems to me you could have just saved it somewhere. Say, on a computer file? No?
So we'll have to round up all that stuff again, to prove to you again, that we are still not a fraud? And I have to drive to Salt Lake City to get my finger prints taken (cause we all know how those can change over the years) and finally you will once again have me pay a doctor (chosen by you, not any doctor will do, they have to be extra expensive) to establish that I (still) don't have tuberculoses or HIV.
Did I get all that right?
Splendid, it's always a pleasure hearing from you.

I think I might be too old to snowboard. I hit my tailbone bad yesterday, getting off the lift... not trying to do an invert or anything, and I'm so sore today. I need to look for skis, this is not going to work out.

Christmas is pretty much over at home. We're pretty much waiting for it to start over here. It's finally snowing, lovely! Need to go outside enjoy this white fluff after lunch.

Throwing quite the party

Dylan is throwing up. He was fine and then he was fine and then he farted a little and then he was puking everywhere. Come to think of it, I have not spent a Christmas with this family without somebody throwing up.... last year it was me and Kelso.
But hopefully this is just a quick bug...otherwise the ski trip Friday could be a real downer.

On a brighter note, it snowed tonight.

We got to north Idaho last night and there's hardly any snow here either. It was nice driving the windy 8 hours from Sun Valley to Cd'A without snow, I'll admit that...But I do kind of wish for a white Christmas and I definitly want the slopes to get some fluff on them. A season pass to a brown mountain is not a good thing.

Merry Mary Married Joseph

Tonight I’m going to do something I haven’t done in a long time. I’m going to read a book for fun. Not trying to learn anything.
It’s going to be completely unproductive and absolutely fabulous.
Gotta do some laundry. Gotta do some packing.
Just wrapped some gifts and picked up chocolate and candy canes for the treats I’m cooking up tomorrow.
The holiday season has begun.

Doppfelganger

Random girl coming up to me in the Rendezvous: How much of the stuff from the last quiz is going to be on the final!?! I mean, do you know??
Me: …eh, what?
Girl (annoyed): Duh, you’re in my math class!
Me: Oh.. no, I’m not.
Girl (still annoyed): yahaa!…what section are you in?
Me: I’m really not in your math class… I’m positive.
Girl (hesitant): yeah….. you are. Right?

So I must have a lookalike. And it seems like she’s good at math. Cool.

Good News

When I’m done here, getting my third college degree, if I want…. If I really want, I can get my job at Ruby Tuesday back!

I'm not even kidding, we went there to dinner with the Swedish girls last night and the manager told me, straight to my guacamole-filled face, that he would hire me back on the spot if I wanted it.
That’s such great news, cause I really miss that place. Ever since I left I don’t feel like people truly listen to me when I list salad dressings or lemonade flavours. Nobody cares to yell at me when their steak is too rare or too done or too steaky.
I don’t get to tell people where to sit anymore.
Last night we were sitting at table 31 and behind us, at table 32, was a family with kids. When they were done their server was crawling around under the table, scarping up crayons and pieces of Goldfish crackers from the carpet, and I was just looking at her thinking “that used to be me…”

And now I know that I can be me again. If I really want it.

What's cracking

Last time I went to a ballet was when we were living in Moscow, Dylan bought us tickets for Valentine’s Day and I thought it was the sweetest thing ever. A guy who not only agreed to go see a ballet, but bought the tickets and initiated it, I didn’t even know the show was coming to Pullman.
The fact that he fell asleep during the second piece and only woke up briefly for intermission didn’t matter…. much, well it didn’t affect my watching the dancers - as he put it when he woke up.

Anyways, it’s been 7 years and now we’re going to a ballet again. The Nutcracker. I’ve never seen it so I’m way excited. And we’re going with a group so if he falls asleep I’ll have other people around to talk to. Or that I can pretend brought the sleeper along.

Tiffany: ever wonder what you look like?
Me: ever heard of a mirror?
Tiff: noo, but to other people…

And I get that. And I have wondered what I look like to other people. Just not in a while, I guess. Sometimes I wonder what other people think of me, I do care, I’m so not above that that I’m almost beneath it. Like yesterday when I sent an e-mail just to make sure. To smooth things over, just in case they weren’t already smooth. Things can never be too smooth, I figured.

But they’re smooth now. I think. And I think they were pretty smooth before too. But you never know how things appear to other people.

Coffee

Sometimes I down you like a child does gross cough syrup, just to do it. Get it down. Sometimes I spend $5 and get you in fancy paper cup with fluffy soy milk and enough sugary goop to satisfy an umpa lumpa. Sometimes I just add my favorite creamer and make a point out of using a mug I love and heat my hands on it and blow gently on you before each sip. I often nuke you in the microwave cause I hate it when you get all luke warm.

I remember being little, dad’s coffee smelled so good… and when he stuck his entire cinnamon roll in the mug and then squeezed it into his mouth like a saggy sponge, quickly before it disintegrated, I wanted to do it too. Only what smelled so good tasted so bad. I gaged. A great way to ruin a great snack. Mom didn’t even let me have another roll, I had to throw it away and that taught me to stay away from coffee for a long time to come; just enjoy the smell and keep your goodies out of it.
Somewhere in college coffee came on the radar again. Other people drank it. Not to accompany their cinnamon rolls but to stay awake. And I tried some, sweet stuff, mostly sugar and chocolate. It was good. Felt good.

You know that super old Jim Carrey skit from SNL….you,me,you,me,you,me? That’s how I feel about coffee sometimes. You and me, cutie cup… let’s get it on.

Random side note; I also love the smell of bacon. Not even when I ate meat did I like to eat bacon. But I love the smell.

On the importance of staying grounded

So I was thinking, maybe for New Year’s this year we’ll get a condo at a resort and invite all our friends and party until the wee hours on fancy cocktails expensive cheese.

One time in China me and Dylan ate a restaurant where they only served pizza but had a crazy long drink list and a bar that was bigger than the actual seating area. The waitress wore this tiny little fancy outfit, had super high heels and referred to all beverages as coco-tails.
“What coco-tail you want miss?”
I had a cosmo, I think. Maybe even two, we could afford it there.

So, reality check. Do we stay in Pokey, go to Lava again or come up with something brand new? Something brand new on a budget.

I was also apparently thinking my life was full of orange bubbles and whimsical patterns. Maybe I’ll have to switch back. Reality check?

Equality- it’s such a bitch

You know, I grew up confident that whenever (IF ever) I lived with a man I was not going to cook for him or do his laundry or tell him when to change his undershirts. Hell no. And I haven’t totally violated that promise… but I have realized that if I want him to fix my flat bike tires, reach things that are up high and change the furnace filters (which I do) I can’t really scream Equality! and leave his plate dirty in the sink and only wash mine without coming across as a spoiled princess (which I don’t want to).

So I fix the holes in his pockets, throw a handful of man-socks and underwear in the washer whenever I do a load and tell him to freaking change his shirt when our bed smells like locker room. I cook for him, but he cooks for me just as often. I know how to use thread and a needle, and I could teach him but A) it’s faster to do it myself and B) then he might come trying to teach my about oil filters and I seriously believe cars hate me and don’t want me to poke around in their guts.

I’m just as capable as he is to go to Wal-Mart and tell the mechanics man what to do with our car, and I do it. Just like he might as well be the one making brownies when he feels like having some, and he is. I wish he would pick up his crap from the floor. He probably wishes I would care to learn a little bit more about the car than where the key goes.
But it’s a compromise.
Not between me and my values, but between two people.

It'll happen. Or whatever.

Countdown. Semester almost over. Less than two weeks to go. Almost Christmas.
But not yet.
We scheduled a final papers work shop for Friday. That’ll be great, super helpful really. If only I have a draft by then. Which I will. Just not at the rate I’m currently going.

What I've learned today

The green Sunships, the Jalapeno Jack ones, they’re pretty good. A little too spicy for my baby palette of course, but if you eat them fast enough you can’t really tell untill you stop chewing and if you never stop chewing, you can’t really tell at all.

Shoes with no traction, slick sidewalks and a hyper dog put together will make you fall on you ass a handfull of times during a medium length walk.

My husband has really long toenails. It’s gross. I kind of want to cut them in his sleep but that would be gross too.

thursday and friday is all the same

The computers on campus don't let me post my blog entires. This is frustrating cause I never write as much for the blog as when I'm supposed to be writing other stuff. This is what I wrote last night...

So the computer lab is a fun place to be a Thursday evening, dontchathink?
I couldn’t imagine having to go home to eat dinner and watch tv and put on sweatpants (although if I were British I’d call them jogging bottoms…which is too funny).
Oh hell no.
I’d take this poorly heated, fluorescently lit, smart board decorated locale with some string cheese, diet coke, pretzels and granola bars, snug and uncomfy in jeans any day over that crap.
I love it here.
Love it.
I’m also working really hard on my paper right now.
Really hard.
Cantchatell?