Since moving to Utah from Southern California ten years ago, I have learned a lot about how landscaping and climate differences affect the way different cultures celebrate and enjoy Christmas. In Utah, Christmas is just more…hard core.

A few years ago, I learned that a Christmas tree is better if you drove up a snowy mountain for an hour, then hiked for an hour in thigh deep snow (and used a VERY public bathroom on that hike) and chopped it down, debugged it, and dragged it back to the truck yourself.

I have also learned that you can drive a mile up a canyon road to see a herd of Santa’s reindeer…which may actually happen in Southern California too but we define “canyon” a little differently.

This year, Elsa and I experienced (I witnessed, she experienced) a new Christmas time activity. Actually, this was a rather new concept all together, Christmas or not, and from what I understand, this can be done in a lake in the summer time too. I don’t know if it’s a Utah thing, a Delta Utah thing, or a Ryan’s family thing, but the general idea is that you take a sturdy inner tube, put people in it, then pull it over whatever terrain you can with what ever high powered machinery you have at your disposal.

The instructions seem to go like this:

1. Go outside while there is like six inches of that white, cold, icky stuff all over the ground. You know the stuff, it falls out of the sky in this gosh derned state.

I think it helps if the air is moving, unblocked by buildings or trees, and is so cold that it feels like you are being stabbed in the face with a dagger when it hits you. Be sure you are unbearably cold.

2. Bring out as many of the children from inside the house as you can catch. Wrap them up in every bit of material you have around the house for wrapping children up in—this will make them fuss less when you are out there, and also it give them less arm mobility so that they cannot so fight you as you perform step three.

3. Wedge all of the children tightly together in a sturdy inner tube; big ones go in back, little ones go in the front. Instruct the big ones to hang on to the little ones.

4. Tie one end of a rope to the back of a motor powered vehicle.

5. Tie the other end of the same rope to the inner tube full of children.

6. Drive.

Speed up as you hit bumps in the path, this will make the inner tube full of children scream louder.



Be aware that the driver is given extra points per head he can smack into hanging objects along the path.




7. When a child cries, “I don’t want to try that again” (this will probably not occur until after several rotations) remove the children from inner tube being careful not to pull them out of their boots (if a boot is inadvertently removed, you will be required to carry the child into the house yourself).

8. Give all of the children hot chocolate to thaw them out before they start begging to do that again.

Important Note: When you talk to the children, call this activity “sledding.”

Yeah, I know, I know, I know...even we naïve Californians know sledding is done on long boards with little tracks at the bottom and involves a natural slide down a hill and not an all terrain vehicle. Still, if your child is asked about their vacation, wouldn’t it be better if they said, “I went sledding” instead of “oh well Poppa tied us to a four wheeler, and then…”

There is an adult version of the activity, which I did not film because it’s performed in an open field where it is even COLDER. It’s about the same as described above, but with fewer people on the tube, and instead of trying to make them scream, the driver is trying to kill them.

Come to think of it, with my own family’s love of dirt bikes, ATVs, and risking life and limb for amusement, I am not entirely sure why we never thought of any variation of this ourselves. It couldn’t have been a safety concern, I mean they let us play in constructions sites and scorpion/rattlesnake enriched fields for Pete's sake.

Gee, Uncle Corky, you really let us down!

Gas from home to the mall:

$5

Food to keep every one from getting too cranky:

$20

Train ride around an 8 yard circle (5 times):

Three bucks! (yeah seriously, three entire dollars)

Two 5x7s with a lame border that make your kid look puffy and shiny:

$19.99 plus tax

Seeing your kid give Santa the stink eye?

Priceless!

Also, when he asked what she would like for Christmas, she refused to tell him. She did tell him the list was in the mail.

I love Christmas time, but I hate that it really has gotten to be stressful and commercialized. I hate having to think of 20,000 things to BUY people and give people to show that I like them. And then Elsa really just understands Christmas to be the day she gets a lot of presents. I think this may be so far one of my greater failings as a mother (so far, I am sure I will do worse sooner or later).

I am trying to correct this problem this year by immersing her in the ACTUAL Christmas story, and also focusing a lot on what we can give other people who really need things, and she has money set aside for the Salvation Army bell ringers.

I finished all my Christmas shopping this weekend and I forced myself to keep the shower of stuff for Elsa conservative and non-spoiling. It’s a start, right? She’ll thank me when she’s grown? Right…? Also, I did my time in the slammer I mentioned a couple weeks ago. (I still have like 45 days left to take donations though, in case anyone is dying to help buy physical therapy and wheel chairs for kids like this guy here.)

Thanks SOOOOOOOOOO much to those of you who have so generously donated. Gosh I have some swell friends and co-workers!

Oh and the picture above… it’s not the most flattering, I am told, often…by my boss…every time he sees me…sometimes he comes over to my desk JUST to remind me…the other day he saw me about to consume a cookie and he reminded me how chubby I look in this thing.
Apparently vertical stripes are not slimming on me in a picture at all!

Eat Your Heart Out, David Bowie!!!

So, now there is this fellow some of you have heard me talk about. I know you are curious, so without further ado, this is Ryan.

We were figuring out the new digital camera. He let me test the video feature on him. He should have known better, his mistake.

What do you think? Can we take him to Disco night?

THE DOG

So as I mentioned, Elsa and I did, a bit early, accomplish our goal of acquiring a dog that we will keep forever and ever. This is Aldo, and he is pure evil:

Selecting a victim...

Making the kill!

Well, now that I am all divorced and single again, I have gotten to thinking, what are the qualities I want in the man that I find to spend eternity with? Here is my list:

· Inexplicably moody: To me, there is nothing hotter than when you meet a guy and he stares you down, gets totally pissed at you without you saying one word, storms of, refuses to be in the same room with you for a while and then suddenly becomes Mr. Friendly and social without any explanation. And then, as you get to know him, alters between warm and friendly and cold and distant at the drop of a hat. It really gets the heart pumping, am I right girls?

· Attracted to me instantly for physical qualities: I know a lot of chicks are in to that whole, “I think a relationship is more real if we start out as friends and slowly build up a mutual respect and attraction based on similar values, thought patterns, or interests” crap, but I think it’s very un-poetic, unexciting, and unromantic. Come on, real love is like, meant to be. It’s cosmic. And the second a guy sees me, if I am his soul mate, he will totally know me by some physical rise he gets the moment he spots me –like the scent of my blood- and regardless of my personality, likes, dislikes, age, world view, choices, or understanding, he will be obsessed with my based on that one physical thing alone. Now that is real love and all that other stuff is for people who just don’t get it.

· Fights an impulse to hurt me: The world is full of guys who don’t hurt their girlfriends, but they just…you know…don’t want to. Give me a guy who has it in his very chemistry to want to violently mutilate pretty much everyone he meets, but chooses not to. It’s one thing to be with your lover and have him be gentle cause he’s a gentle guy, but just think of the depth of a guys commitment, and adoration for you if every time he sees you he wants to mutilate you for pleasure and he chooses not to. I really don’t think it proves anything when a guy treats you nicely if he just is a nice guy, but if he treats you nicely even though he would prefer to kill you, well baby, you got that guy hooked.

· Can’t figure me out so watches my every move, even when I sleep: All guys love a challenge and a girl they can’t figure out twenty seconds in is going to peak their interests. A lot of guys would just chat and expect ME to let them get to know me slowly and on my own terms. But I am looking for the guy that would ignore my potential desire to have privacy in my own bedroom and sit outside of it, night after night, watching what I do when I think I am alone. That would be a guy who wants to get to know the real me. I would be so flattered when I found out he did that for me. Plus, then we could skip all that boring stuff people do, where they talk about likes, dislikes, ideas, feelings- you know, the unimportant things that just drag on and on.

· Protective: I want to be treated like a cross between and invaluable porcelain antique vase, and a two year old child. I want the guy to tell me what I can and cannot do, and if I stray from his advice, I want him to scold watch my every move. I want him to follow me, be there at the first sign of danger to rescue me, and then scold me for almost breaking his heart by being hurt. I sigh in desperation at the thought that I may never find a man who considers my personal safety his mission in life, even if I don’t ask him to, and who, even when he is with me, looks at me with fear that I may fall, or break in some other way. It would make me feel like his most valuable possession.

· Let’s me live on the edge when I am with him: Nothing impresses me like a guy who needs extreme thrills to survive. You know, like a guy who goes crazy going 80 because it’s just too slow, so he has to REALLY floor it. That’s hot, especially when he shows me how in control of my life and death he is by doing it with me in the car. It’s like, total proof that I do belong to him and he knows it. And he will protect me from myself, or any outside harm, and when I am at risk, it will be the risk he chooses to put me in. How much more proof could I possibly want that he is both the strongest protective force I have on this planet, and the most dangerous thing I am involved with. It’s what every woman is secretly dreaming of. It’s like he’s telling me that if someone kills me, he only wants it to be him.

For a man like that, I would leave my entire world behind, including my family, any friends who don’t approve, and I would change, even on a molecular level, who I am . Seriously, for a love like that, without a thought, I am so there.

Ever since I was 5, I was force fed this idea that I could be my own person, choose a career, date several guys and have lots of friends before choosing “the one.” I was told I ought to develop my OWN identity and then find someone who compliments it, instead of finding the man I want and doing whatever I need to do, and becoming whomever I need to be, to make him want me. And I just want to thank the general population of women ages 14-45 in this country for finally banning together and pouring out in THRONGS to support Edward and Bella’s love in one of the most meaningful and well written pieces of literature to be published this century. Apparently, this is our collective fantasy, to say “be dammed with free thinking! We want a brute from the Victorian age to rescue us! Pronto! And throw in an animal or two he can fight over us with, all the better!”

Ladies, I am not sure we even deserve the vote anymore.

Cry with me, Joss Whedon.

I am Going to Jail (and it's Julinne's Fault!)

https://www.joinmda.org/2008americanfork/Zaissa

Every week they put up a new quote on the wall at work. I really like this week’s:

“Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we're here we should dance.”

Problem (Sadly) Solved

I tried LostPaws this morning. They do take on injured animals but they are full right now. They suggested I call the Humane Society, but before I got that number looked up, the vet called to let me know the kitten had died. 

I guess, although I sorta wish I had spent less to just have it put down last night, but I guess atleast I didn't let it die alone in the freezing rain and maybe he spent a little less time in pain? I don't know. 

Thanks, Warrior, for your kind offer to help me save him. I guess in some of the important things, we do think alike. 

Benefactor Needed

Trauma tonight. To the tone of, so far, $80 bucks. Here's what happened:

I was cutting though the alley way in the back of a supermarket on the way to pick Els up from my grandmother's house when I spotted an itty bitty kitten in the road. He lifted his head as I rolled past and I swear he made eye contact and screamed, yes, screamed at me.

I stopped the car and hopped out. It was starting to rain, and I figured even if the little guy wasn't hurt, I couldn't just leave a baby kitty there in the middle of the road. I jumped out of my car and moved toward him. I could not see anything wrong, and I called him to me. He stood up, took one step, and fell over. I went to him, lifted him and saw he had blood everywhere on his back end and one of his legs was twisted so that the foot faced a different direction than the feet on all of his other legs. I panicked. I put him on my coat in the car and drove frantically to my Grandma's.

So what is the right thing to do here? I have already been told I am an idiot for the series of choices I made at this point, but really, what could I do? Leave a suffering animal in the road? Run him over the rest of the way? Uh hu, I know a few males might be nodding at that, but I wouldn't do that!

It was nearly 5pm so I knew animal shelters were out and I don't think they can do emergency medical care anyway, and my only thought was to get the little guy out of pain ASAP. He was panting hard and "mewing" in pain. I mean literally crying.

There is only one emergency vet clinic I could find in the area online at my grandma's, and it didn't open till 6. I could not think of making him suffer for another hour. So I called every imaginable vet (I had been on the phone talking to Paul about something...I should call him back maybe, and see if it was important, I can't remember at all what it was, anyway, he was on his phone searching for a vet at my request too) and found ONE clinic that still had a vet there.

I rushed to the vet, with Elsa in tow, and I explained the concept of "put to sleep" to her. She railed against this, and she did not accept my assurance that sometimes that was the very nicest thing to do for a hurt animal.

The vet looked the kitten over, with Elsa leaning over him asking every two minutes if we had to "kill him. Dr. Dave, as he told me to call him, well just Dave actually, said the leg looked broken (it was backward on his body, do you need to be a vet to figure out it's broken?) and other than that, because of the blood he said was coming from the anus, there could be internal bleeding, plus his temp was really low, which could mean bleeding or could be from shock. Anyway, he said he couldn't really say until he had treated him for shock and then tomorrow could evaluate better.

So my options were laid out. Put the cat to sleep, that may well belong to someone else, although I don't know how to find that someone. Or, pay to get the cat some pain meds, and meds for shock, and for the vet to watch him for the night.

I went with option B.

Here is the problem. If the stinkin cat is messed up internally, I am out the $80 from tonight plus I am responsible for the process of putting him down. If he's not messed up internally, then his leg needs pins. Appearantly kittens with broken legs need pins. And this cost...he didn't quote price...alot.

I can't have a cat. Especially not one recovering from surgery. I have a small apartment and a dog (to whom I will be getting in another post. STUPID DOG!) so I don't have room for a cat, I am not allowed to have a cat, I don't want a cat, if I were to get a cat it would be Lolita anyway, and anyway, the dog would further injur that cat.

But I also can't put a cat down for having a broken leg. I can't, I can't, I can't. And that $80 put a hole in my carefully managed budget for the rest of the month anyway. I just can't budget for a giant vet bill for a stray cat.

Ok. Tell me what an idiot I am, and then tell me what to do. Seriously, does anyone know of pet organizations that help in these situations? OR charitable vets? Or have a rich uncle who has been meaning to get a crippled kitten for himself? Or have knowledge of what animal shelters do?

I am going to call Lost Paws tomorrow and see if it is the sort of charity case that they take on or if they can refer me to any sort of animal charity. I know there is a pet over population and that perfectly healthy cats are euthanized every day. But he looked at me, right at ME, and cried out. I swear he did.

I am also going to post a sign at the supermarket I was near when I found the thing. It's a long shot, but maybe the owner will turn up. I don't want to be the one to make the call. And if anyone knows someone in PG missing a kitten, have them call me.