My Born Ultimatum...

My latest bout with motion sickness, reared it's ugly head tonight - at the movie theater of all places. DH and I went to see Bourne Ultimatum. We had heard rave reviews - and while we were slow in getting to see it - it really was good. The only problem was the director seemed to have filmed the entire thing with a super 8 handheld movie camera. Talk about jiggle factor. I knew the movie would be high on action. But it seemed even the non-action parts of the show were in action - because the dang camera man was sitting on Matt Damon's shoulder (like an evil twin would).

Ever since I was a little girl, I've had issues with motion sickness. Maybe I was born with it - or perhaps I was just dropped a lot as a baby (insert joke here). I remember being really young at a park and swinging so high on the swings - and getting so sick - that I finally jumped off to save myself (landed pretty hard on some dirt too, if I recall).

You can imagine if park swings did that to me - how Lagoon (aka overpriced carnival) affected my livelihood. I tried to ride on those herky, jerky rides - to no avail. I'll admit it -- I was in denial in those early years. It just didn't seem natural for a kid to hate rides! But, hate them I did. Oh sure, I'd still go on a few - but that was just to save face and to not be judged by the other kids.

Over the years, rides, swings and merry go rounds - became my arch nemesis'. The Space scrambler: struck such fear in me that I've tried to block it from my memory. Tilt-a-whirl - can you say tilt-a-hurl? Colossus - spinning around upside down in circles should be against the law. And let's just say - there was nothing merry about those horses going up and down & spinning in a circle on the Carousel ride.

As I got older, it didn't get any better. In middle school, our playground consisted of a big field, a merry-go-round and a few four square grids. The boys would get on the merry-go-round and see who could stay on the longest without throwing up. Now, knowing of my motion weakness - I steered clear of this activity. Until that fateful day. My girlfriends & I were looking for a place to sit and visit. Oddly enough, the merry-go-round had been abandoned by the crazy 8th grade boys - nary a one in sight. With not much brain power working on our side, we (about 6 of us) congregated on the merry-go-round to sit and chat.

Enter stage left - wild screaming boys, running towards the innocent (naive) girls who had no clue of the dirty deed that was about to occur. Before we could even think about moving, the spinning began. Faster and faster--until I knew it was fight or flight. I chose flight--and jumped from the madly spinning wheel - onto the slippery gravelly blacktop. I was in the nurses office the rest of the day getting gravel dug out of my hands, knees and elbows.

As an adult, it has been much easier for me to avoid rides, swings and merry-go-rounds. Unless I'm tricked. Mission Space at Epcot would be one of those cruel tricks. On our first trip to Disneyworld, one of the first things we did was head to Epcot and hop aboard mission space. The signs said, "May cause motion sickness". "May" was an understatement. There was no abort button on that mission - so I had to use positive self-talk to get me through it, "Go to a happy place" I said over and over in my head. I was miserably sick the rest of the day.

On our next visit to Disneyworld, again I was tricked. My, then 7 year old, daughter convinced me that the Tower of Terror wasn't bad at all. She had gone on it before - and said - "Mom, if I can do it so can you." I bought into that diatribe. And headed home nauseated, dizzy - vowing never to trust the sweet eyes of my daughter again. Even Soarin' - a simulated hang-glider ride over California nauseated me. I ended up closing my eyes over most of the ocean, orange trees and even the Golden Gate Bridge.

Needless to say, I have become the official "stuff holder" (i.e. water bottles, camera, purses, hats, sunglasses etc) at amusement parks. It seems to work well for me - and the bonus is no more lost stuff on the upside down, twirly hurly roller-coasters.

As for the movies? For Matt Damon, I guess, that's just a sacrifice I'm willing to make.

Six Months and Counting...

Update on 13th year shenanigans:

Van: Aamco repaired the oil leak and transmission fluid leak - I've given up on crossing my fingers that this will work and I'm now crossing everything crossable (eyes, fingers, arms, legs etc). If big purple can make it another 6 months - we'll be in the clear.

Computer: Crashed. Burned. Busted. Memo to the World: Do not click on a button that says you have a virus and do you want to download a program to fix it? DH clicked - he thought it was a real deal from microsoft. The only thing real about it was the real damage the dang "trojan" did to our computer (why does using the word "trojan" make me feel so jr. high?) It corrupted a bunch of files. Shut down our control panel. And did a bunch of other stuff that I didn't understand - but it ended up taking DH about 18 hours to correct it (2 eve's + a morning) and a little cash.

Sprinklers: After spending almost $400 on repairs for the sprinklers at the end of July - this morning they have no water pressure. Our lawn has been trying to recover from July's shenanigans - and was still struggling. I can't wait for winter - so our yard will be dead when it's supposed to be dead.

DH: Currently a believer, subscriber and participant in the 13th year.

Quiet Rivers Run Deep...

On Tuesdays, our temples first session begins at 5 am. This morning was my RS temple run - at 440 am (I had to get up by 4 to be ready). We try to get there for that so we can be home in time to get kids ready for school, etc. We are entering our fourth month of doing this early bird thing - and you'd think it would get easier.

Actually, the waking up and getting there isn't that difficult - mostly because I'm on auto-pilot. It's the after-effects of the early rising that really throws me for a loop. Picture blond moment after blond moment linked precariously together.

Case in point: Upon returning home from our temple trip - I noticed the scouts had put out flags throughout our neighborhood. I was curious as to why - and finally decided they must've put them out because it was the primary elections today. We have a guy running for city council in our ward and I wondered if he had put them up to it. Unfortunately, I opened up my mouth and said, "I wonder if Troy bribed the scouts to put the flags out to remind us to vote for him?" Both of the girls I was with starting laughing and reminded me - it's 9/11 - and then continued to laugh.

Case #2: We had lunch bunch today. One of the ladies was telling me how well-spoken my DH was at a neighborhood meeting they had last night. She mentioned that she had never heard him speak more than 5 words before this evening and she was impressed by his knowledge. I thanked her for the compliment. She went on to say, "I guess quiet rivers run deep." "What?" I asked. She repeated her river statement. With a blank look still on my face - she said it again, "You know, quiet rivers run deep." Finally she very frustratedly explained - "Your husband is the quiet river." I said - "Ohhh and he runs deep?" I think she walked away at that point.

Here's the deal: I'm Blond. But on normal days, I am usually awake enough to at least not speak out my blond moments. The trouble is when I am this tired - there is no telling what I may say. Luckily, this tiredness comes only once a month and it is worth it (although maybe I should sequester myself on such days).

I guess it's safe to say that no one will ever mistake me for a quiet river.

Eight Months and Thirteen Years...

The month of August appeared to go off without a cursed, unlucky hitch. I say appeared - because my van has been leaking pink/red stuff for a few weeks. When DH asked me what the pinkish/reddish stuff was on the garage floor - I told him I thought one of the kids had dropped their red popsicle (right in the very spot that I park my van). Those darn kids!

After I slipped and nearly killed myself (and lost 4 fresh pumpkin choc chip cookies in the melee), DH decided to spray out the garage and get rid of the popsicle spot (which was actually pretty slippery for sticky popsicle). A couple of days later, wouldn't you know it - those darn kids had melted another popsicle in the exact same spot. Only now it's looking more like a van issue--and less like a messy kid issue.

I'm no rocket scientist - but something tells me this slippery pinkish/red substance has something to do with my newly installed 24 kt gold lined transmission - since there wasn't a slippery red problem before. Now, technically, I will be getting this problem fixed in September. But I am telling you, if this ends up costing me any sort of money - I'm counting it as bad luck for August. I mean, once you've got a trend going - you really hate to break it. Right?

Are you a Warn(er)?

Are you a warner? By this I mean - if you see a cop parked at the bottom of a hill that you are headed up, do you flash your lights at oncoming traffic to "warn" them?

I do. I also do it if I see a speedtrap on the freeway. I just chalk it up to my good works for the day. I'm a law abiding citizen. I'm not a speeder. If we are in a hurry to get somewhere, nobody wants to let me drive (especially my mom - talk about a speeder). So I guess that's why I don't appreciate the speed traps off the bottom of a hill - I mean who isn't going to be going a little faster than usual when your coming off a hill?

Now, I'm not a purist in my cop warnings. You get me on the freeway with someone who flies recklessly past me - and I have been known to say (wish) "They deserve a ticket." I actually rejoice in others sorrows as I drive past that fast car getting a ticket.

The way I see it--is a cop waiting at the bottom of the hill is just filling a quota for the day. It's a cheap shot--gimme ticket--and I don't think it's fair (unless that person is going recklessly fast - in which case my flashing lights still wouldn't give them time to slow down and they should get their just desserts).

The Book Thief...

For book club this month, we are reading "The Book Thief" by Markus Zusak. When I checked it out at the library - I sighed - because this is one long book. It's almost 600 pages long - and for a girl who enjoys procrastinating the reading of books she may or may not enjoy (i.e. book club books) - I knew I was in trouble. This would not be a book I could cram into an evening or two.

So, I put it on my to-do list - and started it over a week ago. 10 pages here, 10 pages there - I was struggling. For one - it's narrated by death, literally - (there actually have been a couple of our book club books where I felt like saying - this book is soo boring it's like its being narrated by death). My other struggle was it is based in Nazi Germany - not one of my favorite subjects (you know I'm shallow right?)

Just as I was about to inquire about cliff notes (and truly I hadn't really given the book a fighting chance as I was only on about page 50), one of my friends told me it really started to pick up by about page 100. So I continued to plod along. And to my surprise -- by about page 80 I started to get into it. As a matter of fact, I couldn't put it down -- and literally read it in two days -- not counting the first 50 pages of course (memo to self: you can read a 600 page book club book in two days)

By then end of the book, I was pleasantly surprised. What a truly well-written and interesting book. I am better for reading it. While it is sad subject matter, the author sprinkles bits of wisdom and humor--to the point that even "death" was cracking me up (okay, so add to shallow a morbid sense of humor). But seriously, "death's" words are poetic at times. I enjoyed "him".

As a shallow and fluffy reader - here's a book that made me feel a little less shallow and (almost) deep.