The Best Day Of My Life.

For Second Honeymoon Chris and I went to Mexico.  While in Mexico the most magical thing happened...all my dreams came true.  

I guess I should have begun by explaining that while on 2nd Honeymoon, Chris and I had a lot of time to chat.  One day I told Chris that it was one of my dearest wishes to hold a baby lion or tiger.  Chris patted me on the head and said, "That's nice." ...Or something like that.

Anyway, the VERY NEXT day it happened.  I saw these booths with baby lion photos on them, but they were closed.  I said aloud, "I wonder if there are real lions in there...nah, probably not."  Then on the way to one of our Cabo adventures, we passed the same booth.  And this time it was open.  And there to my immense pleasure, nay, my glee, no, my joy beyond all reasoning, was a baby lion.  We decided that if I still wanted to hold it after para-sailing, I would.  You bet your oldest child I still wanted too.  And then, for only 20 dollars I held that baby lion.  It was a miracle.  An early birthday and Christmas present combined.  Chris didn't even hesitate he paid the twenty smackaroo's like that.

 There we are, holding the cute little guy. 

 This picture portrays our feeling for the baby lion.  Chris is looking at the camera politely and I am enamored by the cutest thing I'd ever laid my eyes on.

 The star of the day. Notice how he is sucking on Chris's finger.  He did this most of the time.  He thought Chris's finger was his bottle or something.  Adorable!

PS I realize this "baby" lion is a little big.  I think it was about time for these peeps to switch out this lion with another more baby-ier lion.  But I loved him anyway.  

PSS Usually I go by the mantra, that all dogs are boys, and all cats are girls.  But when it comes to wild and adorable cats...they are also ALWAYS boys.  Even Nala.

PSSS Here is a pic of me with my new shorter hair.  Some people have commented that's its not as short as they thought it would be...but for me, it is plenty short.  Oh and don't mind the frizzies...they are the bane of my existence.

Valentinians Tag

I had a grand Valentines Day.  Me and the hubs ate at this little place...

It was so good! Best pulled pork and rolls I've ever tasted.  I also spotted the atrocity that is in every Texas Road House.  This evil guy.

(I made this pic small to spare you from his ugliness)

I want to punch him in the beezer, except I'm afraid I'll get leprosy.  Apparently armadillos are the only animals that can pass leprosy.  Through their paws.  Yuck!

Earlier that day Chris told me that for our surprise fun-tivity we going to go bowling.  To which I replied, "Oh no.  I hate bowling."  I hate bowling so much I couldn't even pretend to like it.  So after we ate Chris told me that no, we weren't going bowling and he already knew I hated it.  Next thing I know we are pulled up to Walmart and Chris informed me we were actually going to play the Walmart game...

...

Really? I mean really? (said like Seth Meyers from SNL).  The Walmart game is where two teams pick up 10 random objects each.  And then the objects are switched and the team who replaces the objects faster wins.  I love this game, I really do.  But there is just something wrong about Valentines Night taking place in a Walmart.  You feel me?

Chris then told me that he was kidding.  Again.  I told him he needed to stop lying to me because all of these supposed activities were making me skittish.  What would we really end up doing?!

Finally we pulled up to one of my favorite places in the world...a movie theater.  There we found this gem of a photo booth and took these:

I love them!  Then we went and watched Star Wars: The Phantom Menace 3D.  It was exactly what I wanted to do and Chris had remembered from when I mentioned this over a week ago.  He's so cute and really doesn't like movies.  That made the sacrifice even cuter.  

The Movie was longer than I remember but just as amazing.  There were a couple added parts I'd never seen. In one Jar Jar Binks calls Queen Amidalla "hot". I think I would have remembered that.  

Chris pulled a Justin Bieber on me and rented out the whole theater.  Actually we were just the only ones who happened to be seeing the movie, but I still felt cool that we had the whole thing to ourselves.  

Oh and Chris also went to Payless and got me these beauts.  They are blue and I love them.

It twas a great evening and I can't wait til next year!

I have the attention span of an 8 year boy with ADHD...

When I was little I remember sitting on the family room floor for hours listening to all the grow-ups talk about spiritual things.  If I made a peep I was banished to the basement.  I would just sit there and trace the pattern in my grandma's carpet...over and over and over again.  In church I could entertain myself with just my moms ring or the hymn book.

I'm afraid the good ol' days are gone.  Ever since I came to college I have a problem paying attention during spiritual discussions.  This was especially noticeable at ward prayer in the singles ward...or FHE.  I'll show you what I mean. 

 Yes...my idea of a spiritual thought is read a verse or quote (never both) and give a 10 second testimony.  But I found myself sitting through a full on talk instead.

And now I have issues with Sacrament Meeting.  More now that I have a big brawny shoulder to lean against. 

 

Almost every week I take a snoozer.  The only way I can stay awake and pay attention is if I have my little book to draw in.  I told you I was 8 years old.

On a more serious note...most of the time I get uncomfortable during spiritual situations.  And it's not because I don't have a testimony.  It's taken me a while to figure this out...I think it's because I get uncomfortable sharing something that means so much to me.  It feels very personal.  So when other people unveil their souls about such things I just get squirmy.  Don't get me wrong I could listen to people talk about world peace, their emotional issues and other deep things, for hours.  Just gospel related things make me a little on edge.

Sometimes I wonder if people act the way they do for show.  I noticed in my singles ward that return sister missionaries squint their eyes when they talk about spiritual things and get on this particularly holy voice.  Not all, just some.  And it made my gag reflex act up a little.  This all sounds horrible and I can't believe I'm admitting it.  I know I'm wicked.

My solution in these times of wondering if people are fake and feeling uncomfortable in a large group of devout saints?  I always have to remind myself it doesn't matter, the gospel is for me.  I need to focus on me and my simple testimony (simple not small).  Don't worry about the congregations just whats between Heavenly Father and my heart.  

PS I apologize for sounding judgy.  Honestly I wish I could be more like the people who make me fidgety...I just can't.  Not right now anyway.  I'm too worried about getting myself to stay awake through sacrament meeting. 

I got the chop...

Well actually my hair got the chop.  Let me start out by saying, all growing up I got called the short haired twin.  People would say this and all I would hear is..."You are the twin that looks like a boy. You ugly munchkin you."  Because of this I have worked very hard to keep my hair long and just the other day I though, "Well, Melani you're hair is looking pretty good.  Good thing you are such a sexy long haired fiend."  All of that changed my friends.

The other day Chris and I decided to take advantage of my mother's clippers and cut Chris' hair.  So a cutting I went.  Chris's (or is it Chris'...I never know) hair turned out pretty good.  So I thought, "I cut Chris's (I'm just going to do it this way, deal with it you grammar Nazis) hair, I'll have him cut my hair."

Now just to preface this, Chris has trimmed my hair before...in the shower...with the cooking shears (Sounds like the game of Clue).  We're pretty fancy.  And it turned out pretty good. So I thought no big deal.  Well after a little while of cutting I heard Chis say, "This might be a little short."  I'm thinking, "Oh he cut off two inches instead of one."  "Its fine Chris just keep going," I say.  Obviously I'm not that picky, see a fore mentioned shower incident.  

Well I look down and there on the floor are some very lengthy bits of my wet hair.  At this point I started to freak out.  "Wow that is short!"  I felt for my hair.  Usually I can reach my arm around my back and grab some...but I couldn't reach my hand up far enough to get any.  "Its really short!"  "I know, that's what I told you", Chris reminded me.

Well about an hour later and a few more shocked exclamations the deed was done.  I was pretty much over it.  I said to Chris, "Well I didn't freak out that bad. You are very lucky."  To which he replied, "Ya, you only showed everyone in the house and measured how much I cut off with a ruler." I did do that thing.

Guess what the ruler told me...6 and a half inches...that's how much of me I lost that day.  But I'm glad it was Chris and not some one else.  He's cute enough that I wasn't too upset. 

Look how pretty.  Look how nice. It was beautiful (tears).

I was going to show you a delightful picture of what my hair looks like now...but my camera has turned rouge on me and will not obey my commands. I will post one later. 

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an entry that smacks a bit of cynicism

Here is an update for those who asked how DC life is treating me.  (Mostly Janet and Sydnee)

Boys:  The boy situation is...interesting. I still find I struggle with the wonderful form of communication that is flirting.  I am currently a step above friendly conversation, but have not quite reached actual flirting.  This is a leap from where I used to be...ignoring and insulting the boys I found attractive.  Without further ado let me introduce to you some of the boys in my life.  There is a moppy haired yet adorable teacher.  A surprisingly attractive counselor.  An overly flirtatious red-head.  And the a boy who leaves me mystified and frustrated on a daily basis.  Well there you have it; a sparse accounting of my dealings with the opposite sex.  I wish it was more exciting and not just for your reading pleasure, but also for my own selfish pleasures.

Weather:  The weather here is muggy and reminds one of purgatory.  I find it best to stay within ten feet of an air conditioner.  And while the surroundings are quite lovely and green, I miss the open perspective mountains can afford.

Living Conditions:  I presently reside in a quiet little neighborhood, in a quiet little house that is adorned in pretty little figurines of dogs.  These belong to the lady of the house, my landlord of sorts.  My bedroom, I share with another person, until our roommate decides where she would like to live, at which point I shall inherit my own room.  The kitchen is shared.  And I find at the front door, the smell of the dog who lives in the house, seems to linger.

Social Interactions:  I spend my time with a dear friend and her boyfriend.  They are a lovely couple.  However one does tire of hearing tender whispers, and the rubbings of passionate hugs and the sound of delicate kisses.  Sitting in the next room with no one to talk to, twiddling my thumbs, while these events take place is a little...shall we say horrifying?  Being the third wheel has almost become second nature to me.  Before things became mystifying and frustrating with the boy whom I spoke of earlier, I would spend many hours with him.  Now that these new and uncomfortable circumstances with him have arisen, I find my social circle has shrunk significantly.

Jobs:  I enjoyed the euphoria of a temp job that required little to no work with a ridiculously glorious pay rate.  I had four beautifully boring days.  And now I am looking for employment again.  I feel as if I am trying to force my way into someone's slightly snobby Virginia home, so I can become a nanny for them.  I exaggerate,  but trying to convince people that they would like to hire me, has never been one of my strong points. (Neither has the proper use of commas)

I feel like the clock is ticking on my financial stability.  A job is becoming more and more imperative.  And the temptation to throw everything in my car and drive home is looming over my head.  It seems depressing to stay here, but anywhere else I can think of sounds just a little bit more depressing.  My life is a large question mark.  A collection of quandaries. A menagerie of riddles I have yet to solve. 

Well adieu dear whoever...And good evening.

100. Parallel Parking on the first try

This website inspired me to create a lovely list I like to call, 100 Delightful Things.  Their list was 1000 Awesome things, but I think I'll dream a little more humbly. 100 Things is a good start.  And "Awesome" is so eighties, hence I shall say "Delightful". 

So we begin:

Ahaha...hem (clearing throat)

The 100th Delightful Thing:  Parallel Parking on the first try.

Heaven knows I am quite the flamboyant driver.  I might have hit a couple cars, a stop sign, a mail box, a tree, several curbs and a pole in my day.  And although the list of things you've hit may not be as lengthy or as prestigious as mine, you have probably had your own driving issues.  So there is nothing more satisfying than parallel parking on the first try.

You're with a couple buddies, and nonchalantly you say, "Oh.  Here's a spot." as you pull up to a small opening on the street. 

Your friends become nervous, they know the hazards involved in parallel parking just as well as you do.  You may hit the curb or the cars you are trying to sandwich in between.  And even worse, you could move your car's hind quarters back and forth a few zillion times while trying to line up properly.  Meanwhile, 20 Joe Schmoes on their way to work are watching your progress and waiting behind you.

But none of this happens...You just slip on in...first try.  Your friends are surprised.  They say something like, "Wow good job, I'm terrible at parallel parking."  And what do you do?  You just shrug your shoulders like its no big deal.  But inside you feel...

Delightful.