Water Heater Hell, Again (as if once wasn't enough?)

*UPDATE* My apartment should be back in order by Saturday AM! Well, not back in order necessarily, but ready to be put back in order! WOO-HOO! Hooray for speedy contractors! Written February 1st: It's after 7:40pm and I'm still at work because I. DO. NOT. WANT. TO. GO. HOME. Why not? It's happened again, but THIS TIME, I'm not yet sure if this will be the worst of it or not, when compared to the first time...

THE 'FIRST TIME': Right at the tail-end of a long, hot Vegas summer (blak!), a year ago or more (Honestly, I've blocked the date from my mind - I think it all happened shortly after I met my honey-man though, so that's nearly a year and a 1/2 ago?) the water heater in my apartment decided to EMPTY ITSELF, flooding over two-thirds of my bedroom, part of the front room and the entire patio (no, I'm not saying the patio was a big worry). Although my water heater closet is only accessible from the patio, I was later told that most of the water must have gone through my bedroom wall into my apartment - this assessment was determined by the total gallons of water extracted from inside my apartment. And the explanation for it? "...interior flooding caused by a 'minor slant' in the water heater closet's flooring surface." ~ It was juhhhst so lovely.

First of all, I was home alone and hadn't discovered the state of things until nearly midnight... I remember wondering why the air felt so humid that evening. TANGENT: I'm NOT a lover of humidity. I hate it, no matter how many times everyone tells me it's good for my skin and hair. The presence of humidity has also never helped my neurotic hatred of molds and mildews either. If one doesn't have a dehumidifier in Iowa (my parents did), you could spend an hour toweling yourself dry after a shower and still feel like you hadn't even tried. And the towel you use? It will take more than a day for it to dry out. [end of tangent] Come bedtime, you can only imagine how absolutely befuddled I was to discover over 2 inches of standing water in my bedroom. Was I struck speechless? Not exactly, when I realized my compooter was stuck in the deep end of it all!?! Ohhh my - the obscenities that flew from my mouth!?! I called management's emergency maintenance # and some poor fellow showed up 40 minutes later with his very adorable, very groggy, pink jammy-clad 6 year old daughter in tow. As if that wasn't bad enough, it turned out the only thing he could do at that time was to make sure the water line to the water heater had been turned off, which I had already done before calling.

Regardless, he did tell me that I needed to move all my stuff out of my bedroom and away from the front room wall to make way for the carpet crew to arrive later in the morning, sure to make this point very clear to me, explaining that if I did not do this, the carpet crew wouldn't lift a finger upon their arrival... He then left and I was up well past 3AM moving stuff. NOTE: NO, I had not expected him to stay and help me - I wanted him to leave and take his poor sweetie back home, to her bed!!
My bed and boxframe were relocated to my bathroom, propped up on end, standing against my closet and one of my dressers. In turn, my massive monitor (I so hate it!), compooter, computer desk, sewing table (which doubles as a kitty litter cove, since I don't use it for its intended purpose, obviously), 3 cabinets, and 7 underbed-storage bins, etc. etc. were ALLLL relocated to my front room. I had zero hot water for 4+ days and slept on the bigger of my two couches for nearly two weeks, closely surrounded by all my stuff, stacked high, plus 4 -yes, FOUR- commercial, industrial size carpet fans strategically placed throughout the joint, blasting away on "high," 24/7 with all my windows open and no AC. My electric bill for that month was ABSURD! And the home wreckers? I mean, the carpet crew? They broke frames, scratched up multiple furniture pieces, ruined a rug...and then told me I couldn't prove anything. I can't put into words how bad they were. And my apartment mgmt. was just as bad - told me they couldn't do a thing about the damage to my personal items. 10 days of chaos and I got $100 off my rent - how generous, eh?


Foremost, I was sick with worry for the first 24 hrs, convinced my boys, Otis & Owen, would be forever traumatized by the whole experience... In the end though, I think it was me, who was the more distraught at any point (more like frazzled). In fact, I'm 100% sure that Owen actually enjoyed it all, scaling the mattress in my bathroom on a daily basis, creeping towards and dashing up from behind the fans to sniff them and mark them "mine-mine-mine" with the rubs of his whittle kitty head, and dodging the blasting carpet fan airstreams, as if playing chicken with a Mack truck. It was hysterical and highly entertaining. And Otis? He just slept through the whole experience, I swear. But Me? I couldn't hear myself think over the ever constant, raging noise of those damned carpet fans! It was not unlike living on an airport tarmac, I suppose. I was a zombie for days, totally sleep deprived.

'THIS TIME': The night before last, I walked into my bedroom to retrieve something for my honey-man and since then? I've completely forgotten whatever it was I was going to get him...no recollection, whatsoever! I only know that once I rounded the corner at the end of my bed? oh, indeed, the obscenities -once again- began to fly outta my mouth in rapid fire! Lickety-split, my honey-man ran in to see what was the matter (I love how speedy he can be!), and I stopped my fit of swearing just long enough to lift up my left foot to reveal to him a sopping sock. We then both made a bee-line for my patio, straight away. Sure enough, there was water and while I repeated "NO WAY," over and over again, I opened the water heater closet door to reveal more water as expected, but the water wasn't from my water heater - ??? A puzzled moment was then had, until water dripped from above, behind my shoulder and we saw rivulets of water coating the interior walls of the H20 heater closet. And off we went to visit the upstairs neighbors, who, turns out, had not a clue what was going on and gushed a gazillion apologies before we returned downstairs to my place. And I am soooo grateful that my honey-man was there to 1) keep me relatively calm; 2) offer up his muscles for the moving of many and heavy items; and 3) provide some sweet sanity to our circumstances at hand. NOTE: Had it been MY water heater that had causing the flooding for a 2nd time, I'd have had someone's head and I would have fed it to Owen!

CONTINUATION of my Story, February 2nd: To make a long story not quite so much longer, the upstairs neighbor's suspected water heater was indeed the culprit, and had drained itself into the lower walls of my apartment. Luckily, there wasn't even a third as much water-saturated carpeting to deal with as there had been when it was my water heater at fault, but my bedroom/front wall has swelled and some of the paint is bubbling loose. Worst of all for me (no making fun of me now), there's a mild yet distinctly mold-like smell that has since permeated EVERYTHING in my apartment. BIG DEEP HUGE GROSSED OUT GUTTURAL GROAN. Quickly returning to the comparatively positive aspects of the situation... The carpet fans were reduced to one by comparison to the "first time," so my first two nights weren't sooo bad, but "this time" involves major dry wall replacement efforts, beginning tomorrow. So, I still can't put anything back in its place yet and I may have to continue sleeping on the couch for the next week. And "this time," again by comparison to the "first time," I don't have the kitty-boys here to entertain me or cuddle with me on the couch at night, as they went to LA with their daddy-man, so as to keep them outta the way of the soon-to-be apartment-invading dry wall contractors. *sniff - sniff* All the pictures posted here are from "this time," including the one of the blissful, mattress climbing kitty, Owen.

The "Four Things" Meme Becomes a Fivers

Instead of four, I'm changin' this to FIVE...

Five jobs you've had in your life: Student Janitor; College Writing Center tutor, BYU Flower Plot Gardener; Disabilities Advisor; Dept. Mahnagere.
Five movies you could watch over and over: When Harry Met Sally; Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind; Moulin Rouge; Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship; Down With Love.
Five places you've lived: Billings, MT; Cedar Rapids, IA; Rexburg, ID; Provo, UT; Las Vegas, NV.
Five TV shows you love to watch: Um, if I ever remember to or if I had cable... Law & Order SVU; um, um, um... anything on The Discovery Channel, anything on Animal Planet; anything on The Learning Channel (TLC), anything on The History Channel.
Five places you've been on vacation: Keystone, CO; Wash D.C.; San Francisco, CA; New York, NY; Honolulu, HI. [Nope, nothing abroad - not yet! Noooo, Montreal doesn't count!]
Five websites you visit daily: MSNBC; Dooce.com; My Kinja Blogroll; the Breast Cancer Site and NPR Streaming Broadcast.
Five of your favorite foods: Grilled Cheese Sandwiches; Onion Rings with Fry Sauce; Thai food; plain Croissants (although Nutella rocks!); Yogurt.
Five places you'd rather be: At home; With my honey-man; With his angel boy-O; which means California; or Fishing!
Five albums you can't live without: "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" by The Beatles; Sarah McLachlan's "Surfacing"; Led Zeppelin's "That Album with the Goofy Symbols for a Title That Has 'Stairway To Heaven' on It"; U2's "Achtung Baby" and some version of Vivaldi's "Four Seasons."
Five magazines you read: Smart Money and Time - I also like Atlantic Monthly, but don't have a subscription... that's it.
Five cars you've owned: Beige 1986 Oldsmobile Delta 88 (lovingly dubbed the "Fudmobile" by my H.S. friends); Red 1995 Toyota Tercel; Charcoal Silver 1990 Honda Civic Hatchback; White 2002 Toyota Echo; White 2003 Toyota Matrix. [Just realized I had completely forgotten about my 2000 White Silver Saturn SL2 - horrible turning radius.]
Five scars you have: Big chicken pox scar smack in the middle of my forehead; 11 stitches on the outer side of my right wrist; my left thumb has a slit-mark scar across its pad; 1 inch-long scratchline above my left knee; a 1/2 inch- long scar on the underside of my chin, to the right side.
Five fears: Losing another person I love; dying young; getting sick; child kidnapping; another divorce. [All very so-serious there, sorry.]
Five lies: What?!? I cannot tell a lie (what a big fat LIE)!
Five reasons to get up in the morning: Must feed the kitty-boys before they begin to gnaw on me; gotta turn off the alarm clock; must go to the bathroom; gotta go to work; last but not least, it's a new day!
Five things you're looking forward to: Finishing my thesis; Graduating; moving to LA; setting up house with my honey-man; having children.
Five people you'd like to meet: Um, this is not a list that would ever exist unless I try to create one right now, but I'll try: Meryl Streep; Kurt Vonnegut; William James; my mother's maternal grandfather; my father's paternal grandfather (granted the last two are dead, but I'd love to meet them).
Five pet peeves: Cleaning sponges of any kind; Dirty, unrinsed dishcloths left sopping in the sink; unhung bath towels left on the floor (notice a neurotic pattern?); people who leave shopping carts in the middle of parking lots; irresponsible pet owners who neglect their animals.

Now who am I gunna tag? Well, it depends on who hasn't already been tagged with this going-around-all-over-the-place meme... Naah, ain't gunna do it. If you like this meme, just do it!

Ooh, that Smarts!

It is amazing what the mind can do to one's proverbial heart and in turn, one's body... I'm really feeling the stress of things to come and this stress has begun to manifest itself physically, yet none of this stressful stuff is truly underway yet, hence, the "things to come" reference...

So what the heck am I talking about then? Well, as in "things to come": My current lease is not up yet. I'm not moving right now. I'm not defending my thesis right now. I'm not preparing for my MPA oral examinations right now. I'm not yet searching for my new California job. The only thing that has begun is my thesis research and our new apartment search. The thesis? I'm dealing with it. The apartment search? Although I had been getting a handle on my much needed attitude adjustment regarding the whole search biznessy in Cali, the apartment search has proven much more difficult, far beyond the initial issue of my oh-so lousy attitude, due to the fact that I don't yet have a job in Cali. So it seems, I must first have a job in Cali before I can be included on a lease in Los Angeles. So what this means is that what we had wanted to secure first - our new home - may come dead last in the order of things. This discovery changes our timeline of things drastically and it's a disrruptive change. Sure, we aren't yet in any position where we must face the disruptive consequences of this change just now - thankfully - but they'll come, like the rest of it will. And although I realize that I can't yet do anything about any of these changes to our timeline right now, I can't seem to muster the energy or the focus to contemplate what I could do now to compensate in any way. All I know is that my head hurts just sitting here. I shouldn't be upset, as there doesn't seem to be much I can do about it all right now. I also realize that stressing out over it will do absolutely no good - yet I feel terribly discouraged, as if already defeated (which is sooo so not the case - I know this). Moreover, my head hurts so badly that my vision is blurred. It's all in my head - this premature stressing out.

However, this all may be complications with P.M.S.

Stuff Portrait Day!

For the first time since mid-December, once again, it's Stuff Portrait Friday! Call me silly - I do - but I think it's fun... So, according to Kristine:

#1 My Toys:
There's my 1.0 GB USB flash drive, mah new cordless mouse which I bought for my new laptop (If you click on the image, you'll see that it's name is "Annejelynn's 31st Birthday Present"),and mah new Nano, plus my two sewing buddies, mah serger and my sewing machine, itself. I consider all these things to be my "toys" - plus the digicam I used to take all these ridiculous pictures.
















#2 My Secret: Secrets? I don't have any secrets... Nooo, no I don't - I have no secrets (evil giggling ensues).

#3 My Eyes: Taking these pictures? I have to say it was fun! Self-torture all in the name of SPF!?! The watery eyes were the result of my looking into a bright light while taking these "my eyes" pics.

Unbelievable: "801-###-#000" Calls Again!?!?

What more must I do? Someone please tell me. My cell phone just rang and this time I looked first, juhhst because that's what I usually do - - - NOT because I thought the LDS Member Records Office would possibly try calling me again, the very next day after calling me and being told "NO" again by me, from my own mouth AGAIN!?!? Unbelievable. Frankly, it's insulting.

"May I speak with Julie...?"

Mmmkay, prepare for a mild-mannered, yet well overdue rant...
Anytime anyone calls me and asks for "Julie [insert last name]," I never know for sure if they're really asking to talk with me or my deceased mother, but either way, the caller is always someone who doesn't know me; the "Julie" part always serves as a sure-fire red flag. It happens rarely now (was not the case when I was an undergrad), but it's never fun to clarify to any caller that the person they want to talk to has been dead for several years. More often than not, the caller is really looking for me, but although my first name is Julie, that's not what I go by... Tangent: So why don't I go by "Julie" if it's my first name? As you may have gathered by now, my mum's name was Julie and two "Julie"s in the house would have been confusing... Soooo why not bump over "Julie" and use it as my middle name instead? My full name sounds notably better with the "Julie" part first, so I only use "J.", followed by my middle name. [end of tangent] So, as I was sayin', if someone calls asking for "Julie," I ultimately know the caller does not know me. Moreover, in more recent years, I've learned that any caller asking for "Julie [insert last name]" isn't normally a telemarketer, but rather, more likely someone calling from area code 801. Let me explain (the mild mannered rant begins)...
NOTE: If I don't recognize a phone number, I usually won't answer it and will instead let it go to voicemail. Anyhow, my cell phone rang this morning and had I looked and seen the '801' area code, I would have known not to answer it... Instead though, I picked it right up (mistake one) and upon hearing the caller ask, "May I speak with Julie [insert last name]?" First, I told the person it would depends on which Julie he/she wanted (2nd mistake), and then when the caller KNEW what I meant by that, I actually said, "Yes, I'm Julie [insert last name], the younger" (3rd BIG mistake)!?! And only THEN did I hold my phone out, away from my ear for a better view of its LCD (my worst mistake, in that I did this waaaay too late in the game) annnd DAMMIT! Why didn't I check the number first before answering? Not only was it a 801 phone number, the rest of it was real simple, ya know? with three zeros in a row as the last 3 digits, nice and neat, with only 4 different digits used in total; definitely, MOST DEFINITELY an institutional number. Indeed, it was someone from the Member Records Office from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints located in Salt Lake City, UT. The caller wanted to let me know (for the ump-teenth millionth time) that my church records were being held in Salt Lake and that the LDS Member Records Office wanted to forward my records to my current bishop, and without missing a beat, he/she then proceeded to ask me to please verify where I currently live... Some Background Info: The LDS Church keeps very detailed records for all of its church members, like any global institution may. Although LDS Church headquarters in SLC maintains a complete, individual master file for each and every church member, if any member's records can be found only in SLC, it's because, 1) you actually live in SLC, 2) you've died, or 3) the church doesn't know where you are. Over the last several years -six years to be exact- I have tried to tell various LDS church representatives (missionaries, home teachers, visiting teachers, Relief Society ladies, Singles Ward reps, several bishops and bishopric counselors and church records clerks) as kindly and as patiently as I can, at various times throughout each year (New Years, Easter, each general and stake conference weekend, mid-summer and Christmas), that I am well aware of the nearest LDS meeting house location and that I'm perfectly capable to drive there on my own or to pick up a phone and call, if I so choose to do so.

I do appreciate the intent behind the unsolicited calls and the frequently unannounced visits and what these people think they're doing - trying to get me back amongst the fold - but I really do not appreciate feeling as though I'm being tracked and hunted, repeatedly persuaded/asked to do things that I obviously do NOT want to do ~ is it not obvious enough for these people? If I wanted to, wouldn't I be doing it on my own? What happened to the concept of free will? Anyhow, this time I didn't use any euphemisms. I told the kind caller that I knew my records have been left in Salt Lake - and quickly, I was told that if I would just share where I live in Nevada, my bishop could have my records sent from Salt Lake before the weekend. I told him as sweetly as I could that I didn't want my records forwarded to anyone, honestly, and that I didn't know what more to tell him than that. I didn't apologize - I didn't say sorry or thanks. I just left it at that.

Christmas 'Secret' Revealed

IMPORTANT "P.S." for parents listed at the bottom of this post!

Although I had refused at the time to share any details regarding the Christmas 'secret' I had been working on for my honey-man (previous post here), let me say this: Those size-7 boys jammies I had been sewing were soooo NOT solely responsible for my throwing my back out the day before Christmas Eve day...

It was this bad boy:

I've made several patchwork projects before - even Christmas stockings - so I was well aware of the pain/time investment involved, but this one was the hardest, most painful yet ~ but well worth it, nonetheless, I think. What do you think?

P.S. See the "Safe Side" DVD in the lower right corner of the pic? ALL parents with kids under the age of 10 should buy this DVD! I HIGHLY recommend it, a hundred times over and over, as does my honey-man's angel boy-O, who willingly wanted to watch it 7 TIMES in a 48 hour period without any coercion on my part, really! Honest! I swear. BUY IT NOW, HERE!

The Annual Trek to Temple Square

So post-Christmas, as I may have mentioned before (did I?), we left L.A. for Ootah, which is where my entire father's family lives, but one - plus, well, my immediate family which of course includes my father, and they all live in Iowa, poor suckers. A few of my mother's nephews also live in SLC (Salt Lake City) with their families, and I also have numerous childhood, college and family friends who live throughout the SLC valley. Sufficieth to say, there are lots of people in SLC whom I love and adore, so lots of pictures were taken while we were there. The fam pics, of course, I won't share here, but I will show you some of the pics I took while we were at Temple Square with FIFTEEN members of my father's fam...that's about two-thirds of the clan. Not bad. Anyhoow, check out the crazy lights! ~ Click on the images for a larger, better view!
When I was little, my mum and dad would bring me to the MoTab (Mormon Tabernacle Choir) Christmas concerts broadcast on TV each year. Because of the whole broadcasting effort, there was a "No children Under Age 8" policy, yet I distinctly remember the time I was 5 years old, told to keep myself quiet as can be and to NOT reveal my age if asked, well aware of the rules. I even recall recognizing and reading the signs posted at the tabernacle entrances, stating the rules, and my father brought me anyhow... Why I remember it as "my father brought me" and not my mother, I dunno. She was always there too. I just remember being given my instructions to 'shhush' by my father and I remember thinking at the time that he was such a "sneaky sneak" for bringing me to the concert, not that I was complaining. I loved those Christmas concerts! - the other ones they have year-round, not so much. But I gotta say, MoTab's pretty darn impressive. My 3rd grade teacher, Mrs. Sudwicks, sang in the MoTab choir and I remember searching the choir seats for her. Have you seen how large the MoTab choir is? Check out the picture shown in the upper right on this website ---> link here. I think I found Mrs. Sudwicks once, and that was only because I was at home, watching for her on a MoTab TV broadcast and the camera had zoomed in on her singing for a brief moment. For years, until we left UT in '85, I remember attending those Christmas concerts each year... All the pretty people dressed in "their Sunday-best," and all the cute missionaries everywhere. Every Christmas, we went to Temple Square to wander the grounds and marvel over the lights and displays. As a child, I had loved the outside nativity scene most, with it's audio narrative playing over the outdoor loudspeakers. It's still like that today, but this past visit, it didn't have the same affect it had had when I was a kid - it only made me miss my mother.

"Baby Come Back..."

Otis and Owen were doing something super duper oh-so freakin' cute last night (when are they not?), and as I spun around to quickly grab my camerrraaahhhh - DOH! I let my honey-man keep my digicam in Cali so that he could take pictures of any other apartments he might check out! And THEN it dawned on me - ahhh, I can't do SPF tomorrow?!? And Kristine gave us an easy one!?! But, me no gots no camowah to takey any pixures (pouting)... Instead, I'll prep and share some pics from our winter break! How about that?

And the decorator said, "No more apartment white...EVER!"

*UPDATE*: Check out this video story on Coastal housing from MSNBC - it will require Windows Media Player. Link here --> http://tinyurl.com/c7b2b
BE FOREWARNED: This post is a tinsy bitty bit long, and probably wouldn't seem so if it didn't skip around so much. After work last Friday, I drove to LA for the three-day M.L.K. weekend, unbeknownst to my honey-man! Yes, this means that when I arrived late that night in LA, as I unlocked the door and walked in, my honey-man was completely and most utterly stunned. It was a priceless moment, followed by a most welcome, most wonderful weak-in-the-knees "welcome home" lip lock. A Secondary 'PREFACE' of Sorts: In the case that anyone finds themselves confused at any point while reading the rest of what I'm about to share, juhhst for the record: I had a great weekend, I love and adore my Cali boys, and I still plan to move to California.

True to form, like any previous visit to LA, this past trip was fully loaded with lots of near-death-experiences amidst LA traffic and many mind numbing moments of self-discovery in which I have to not only recognize, but identify and deal with various personal fears and insecurities-galore on my part ~ And lucky for me, it's all with the most gracious help and support of my honey-man. I'm not kidding though. EVERY SINGLE TIME I go to LA to see my honey-man and his oh-so adorable angel boy-O, I always, ALWAYS have at least three mini-heart attacks while driving, and at least one, if not two, semi-minor, yet monumental, majorly painful, yet oh-so-healthy-for-me growth spurts. ooh! where the hell did that come from?!? did you see that? - "majorly" - ??? Is the Valley-girl mentality setting in already? EKK!!! Translation, minus the Valley-girl dribble: Nothing horrible ever happens when I visit LA and nothing ever changes physically, but at some point during each trip, some sort of personal "truth" is discovered and realized, and either my mind or my heart -or both- is greatly affected as a result = something happens that CHANGES HOW I SEE things.

So during this last visit, the seemingly brutal reality of living a life in California sank in deep, real deep, and I'm not just referring to the "dollars 'n' sense" part of it all -or should I say, the total lack thereof- which has already been seriously screwing with me for a few months now. K, so one might ask, "Huh? brutal? how the heck?" I'm talking about my mental preparations to move to Cali. It's become far more than an 'on paper' decision; more than simply scribbling the math on a piece of scrap paper. More honestly, it's gone far beyond my entering ALLLL the $$$ numbers in an Excel spreadsheet (as if the scrap paper calculations were terrifying enough!?!), ESPECIALLY after we looked at a couple apartments together! Speaking of which, I must digress for a secky and say that I found it very encouraging, nonetheless, that I liked the very first apartment we looked at and so much, and it was NOT $1700/month. By the way, if it had been that much? $1,700 is just $17.00 shy of my friend, Poppy's monthly mortgage payment!

Anyhow, back to "the seemingly brutal reality of living a life in California..."
When I first met my honey-man, I knew a relationship with him would mean I'd have to move to Cali. I knew it, without a doubt, and I have already accepted the fact that by leaving Las Vegas, I'll be leaving those I've known and all that I know here, but I've done it before -change cities, that is- more than a few times now, and I've learned that everytime I move, I always meet and make new friends without forgetting the others from whence I came, and I always find new things to do, regardless of where I am. I'm a flexible girl that way, and I always adjust, and I'm sure it helps a lot too that I'm easily amused - - my father says I'm "fundamentally happy." But anyways, moving to Cali? specifically California? or let's say, even Manhattan? To live in a super big, uber-crowded city with migraine provoking traffic, and mega inflated real estate prices and increased living costs to match, a regular joe-shmoe (that'd be me) CANNOT afford a house - - not unless yer big time rollin' in the dough. Another thing to note with my frugal financial practicality in mind, trying to own a house in California doesn't make sense in today's market.

What all this means: By moving to California, I'm leaving behind a way of life and various lifelong hopes and expectations that I've been raised with since I was a child, that my upbringing has reinforced over and over, time and time again, and I've been holding on to these expectations for years now and not only that, I'm now giving 'em up - - giving 'em up for love. That last statement is the most significant, and involves the two primary root issues at battle inside me right now... #1: There's a long-standing set of expectations revolving around my desire to own a house, to have all that a modest house could provide for me and my family. I will not at this time go into my long, long list of the many, many clear-cut reasons why I want a house (the list does exist in my mind, but that's a whole 'nuther post). Moreover, I want to clarify that my wanting a house has NOTHING to do with material things or social status; having a house does not mean having designer furnishings or showing up the Joneses, nor does it equate "success." Furthermore, I'm completely aware that most people in this world do NOT own houses for various reasons, some by choice and many without a choice, and I also know many people grow up living in an apartment(s) and they have happy, healthy, full lives, but I'm trying to deal with MY expectations here. Whether my expectations are realistic or not is another matter entirely, but it's something that I now must deal with by moving to Cali, in that my life's expectations thus far cannot be met in California. And issue #2: In the past, I've done a lot of things in the name of love -my friends and my parents would all say I've done far too much and all too often at my own expense- but this time it's not merely a matter of petty cash or how I choose to 'invest' my time, or in past cases, waste my time on the projects/passions of a significant other. With this one -my honey-man- I'm really starting over; I'm moving even further away from my family and I'm giving up a kind of quality of life that simply cannot be acquired or recouped in California.

BUHHHT I will stop there and quit rambling in such an obtuse manner about my personal on-going struggles re: the California lifestyle and all its grandiose living expenses. All this stuff that I think I'm giving up by moving to Cali? I may, in turn, end up having more than I ever dreamed I'd ever have. We just never know what's in store for us. Although I will say this: I still think they ("they" being anyone living in Cali) are ALL BUCK NUTS, including my honey-man, and that I still can't believe I'm going to willingly become a part of the they I'm now referring to... yet I never thought I'd ever live in Las Vegas either, better yet, willingly remain in Las Vegas beyond 6 months' time - make that SIX YEARS!?!

Annywaaaays, the title of this post is the very same as the title that was given to the listing description of the first apartment me and my honey-man looked at together, and I've included the original listing below with a couple pics my honey-man took later the next day:

"Rich, warm cappuccino walls in living and dining rooms with whipped creme crown and chair moldings. Huge mocha latte' kitchen with hand laid white Italian ceramic tile floor (there's that whipped creme again!). Custom art deco and tiffany replica fixtures throughout. Floor to ceiling wall to wall closets in the two huge bedrooms. Bathroom features more sparkling white Italian tile floors. Closets everywhere and storage, storage and more storage. Put a butcher block in the center of the kitchen if you love to cook and/or entertain, and still have tons of room! Rich wood floors throughout!! No, you aren't dreaming, it's for real and is nestled in a tropical like setting of tranquility and peace. Gorgeous swimming pool, your own very private patio that is larger than some single apartments, reserved covered parking w/storage unit, laundry facilities. It's double the size of any other two bedroom you can find, and is truly your own very private home. All this and yet it's only three minutes from the heart of the 'kuhl', happening arts district, great restaurants, shops, activities. Why yes, as a matter of fact, IT IS JUST PERFECT!! $1,295.00 w/year lease. Kitty will love all that room and windows, but sorry, no pooches. It's available now, but won't be for long."

The listing is soooo hysterical, is it not? We had to see the place and I had to share the listing's verbage here... Oh, but the place??? First of all, I've since learned that the word "huge" is simply a relative term when referring to any living space in California. The apartment was neither huge, nor was it "nestled" anywhere -however- the bedrooms were much bigger than I had thought they'd be and the closet space was ridiculously AWESOME, literally floor to ceiling, wall to wall! At this very moment, I'm coveting those closets. The wood floors were like new and the paint was, indeed, "warm" and the place was generally charming... a tab bit dark (ground level), but the living space felt very open, plus there's another 7 yr old living in the complex. In short, we liked it enough to apply, BUHHHT we don't know yet if we'll get the place, so the search is still on in case we may discover a better price and/or a better location.

All fingers and all toes are crossed, hoping that we'll find that right place we can call "home" in California, together. Also hoping that I'll calm my shit down and open my arms to the possibilities ahead.

Self-Portrait Day!

Another SPD brought to you from our time spent over the New Year in Keystone, CO!

2006 New Year's "Resolutions" - ?

One thing should be clear, I don't do resolutions - resolutions involve making CHANGES and I'm just tryin' to get by. Real lasting changes are either sudden and involuntary, or slow, steady, gradual developments. And me, I can't voluntarily, truly change much in one year's time, or at least nothing truly significant...
K, all the aforementioned considered? IT'S TOTAL B.S. Totally. TOTALLY.NOT.ME.
Not only am I a fabulous list maker, I totally believe in making resolutions... However, I tend to refer to what is essentially my New Year's Resolutions list as my "New Year Goals." Why a distinction? is there really a distinction to be made? Well, a resolution is more like a statement of decision, like "I will do such n' such every week from now on"; a long term, ongoing effort. On the other hand, goals have a desired purpose or end in mind = Ya do it and it's done, over with, like "I will save $1000 for my move to Cali." So me? I make up a list of 'goals' for each year.
This past year, a few goals weren't met, not realizing at the time I had proposed the list, just how much grad school would take over my life. Here's the stuff I didn't get done for 2005:
Create an Advanced Directive and a Living Will (both still in draft form, unnotarized)
Either sell or re-Register my Honda Trail 90 (It's a 1971, orange and adorahbul and I can't seem to make up my mind)
Read "Year in Provence," and both "Courage to Be" and "Courage to Create"
And a couple carried over into 2005 from 2004, still not done:
Frame "Cat Fish" print (---> link here - check 'er out! SOOOO CUTE!)
Restretch and Frame Merimekko fabric prints (and it will not happen this year either, I bet)
BUHHHT how about some Gotter'Done Goals for 2005?
Got on the Planning Committee for the MS Walk 2006
First trip to Montreal in August (pics found in Oct. Archive here)
Iowa again for Thanksgiving (Mmmm, Cranberry Fluff! - recipe here)
Saved $ for 2006 New Years ski trip in Keystone, CO with the Iowa fam
Bought my first Digital cam (I so, so, so love it!)
Bought my very first Printer (finally!!!)
Saved $2K for a down and bought a new car (See mah Matrix here)
Gave a bag of stuff to Goodwill each month (plus some)
Discovered 4 Music artists, new to me: Nikka Costa, Imogen Heap, Ray LaMontagne, Marc Broussard (and many, many others this year) ETC. ETC. ETC.
I haven't yet finished writing up my 2006 Goals -there are soooo many things I must do in the next six months alone, regardless of whether or not I put 'em in a goals list... 1) finish my thesis, 2) graduate, 3) search for and attain a new job in Cali, 4) find an apt. in Burbank, and then 5) MOVE!?!? (not necessarily in that order) = Those are some LIFE-CHANGING BIGGIES, yes? And this semester I signed up for not only thesis credits, but another class, despite my previous shoutings, "AHHH, no more classes! I'm done with classes!"
*sigh* BUHHHT, lucky for me, I happen to do much better under pressure - really! Yes, unfortunately, I'm 'bout worthless if I gots lots of time to do something.

It's Nat'l De-Lurking Week

According to those who would know, it's "National Delurking Week" - and soooo that means what?
It means if ya stop by to take a peek or a brief read, ya gotta say HI before you leave!

Self-Portrait Day!

See me in my little 6' 6" tall brother's ski goggles?

I took this pic last week just for today!

Christmas Memories, Realized

A few weeks before the Christmas holiday, I called my father to ask him some questions about my mother (<--link here).

See, I understand a few things very well... After time, we often embellish, understate and/or completely forget the details of the past. Also, when someone we love dies, we tend to either hang on to all the bad stuff -arguments, imperfections, pain and regrets- or instead, glorify the past, and that person becomes perfected in the eyes of those who loved that person. I have many memories of my mother, some good and some bad, but all from the eyes of my childhood, and this makes it particularly difficult to discern how reality-based my memories of her may or may not be.

Christmas is a very emotion-ladden time for me for the fact that my mum was a total Christmas nut and Christmas has never been the same for me since she died. As well as I can recall, within the first week after Turkey Day, if not the very day after Thanksgiving, Christmas began = off we went to the Christmas tree lots and out came the boxes and boxes of Christmas decorations, and none of it was ever taken down or put away until AFTER the New Year. Every room in the house reflected the holiday. The advent calendars? The garlands? all the ornaments and figurines? the countless Christmas albums and casettes? the strings and strings of Chrimpus lights? the pine wreaths? the bells? And the candles?!? Oh yes, THE CANDLES!!! It's amazing the house never caught on fire, although repeatedly, my bangs, eyebrows and lashes all caught flame. [Note: I was a bad, bad lil' fire bug, well into my twenties.] And all the baked goods and all the homemade Christmas candies? INSANE. And all the many homemade crafty creations? The wall and chandelier hangings, Christmas stockings, cross-stitch and hand-sewn dollies, hand-painted ornaments, and the night gowns and jammies made especially for Christmas Eve? And the spirit, the spirit felt throughout the home? Simply joyous ~ and most importantly, no stress.
From what I can remember, my mum was thrilled outta her mind about it all - absolutely tickled! delighted! bubbling! And truly gracious. But I wasn't sure... I haven't yet been able to recreate the kind of Christmas I remember from my childhood, and although there are legitimate reasons for this thus far, I had been wondering if what I want and its basis was ever even real.

When I called my father, my question for him was basically this: Do I remember my mother's enthusiam and her enjoyment of the Christmas holiday accurately? Was she truly as happy as I remember? Was she ever stressed out by any of her holiday endeavors? all the planning? the many projects? the hosting of holiday parties? Because I don't remember her ever getting stressed out at all over any of it - not at all - and I wanted to know, did I just never witness the stress?

My father not only confirmed my Christmas memories of my mum, he also explained - she was just so happy to be around for another one; alive another year, another Christmas.

A Chrimpus Kitty

During the holiday break, once the boys and I made it to L.A., I kept expecting - waiting - to find some kitty-mangled tree ornament, but all Owen ever did was nap behind the tree, and Otis only stared at it (as shown), titling his head from side to side for long stretches of time.

IT WAS SOOOO CUTE.

One More Unexpected Thing Re: Age 31

Over the Chrimpus break, my dear honey-man gave me a generous certificate for a "Full Spa Style Facial," as a sweet "You've-finished-your-coursework, YAY! and Congrats!" / Pre- "Welcome to L.A." gift. Other than a pedicure or a semi-manicure, this was my first real FULL SERVICE spa experience, complete with steam room, sauna and misting room access, and it was all wonderful, wonderful, wonderful; a glorious, dare I say much needed, "love-yourself-as-you-are" experience. At some point, I told the woman working on me that if I began to snore, to just nudge me awake, please. It was a total luxury experience, is what it was.
And since my facial? Well, here's the something else to add to my short list re: things that I wouldn't have thought to be the case at age 31 = acne. Yes, although I had been forewarned that my facial would "bring out the impurities lodged deep in my facial pores [doesn't that sound lovely? ekk!]," I had no idea what that really meant. I was also told that I needed to "aggressively exfoiliate" on a daily basis, from here on out. So as a result, post-spa, plus daily attempts to "aggressively exfoiliate," I have experienced an acne "break out" more intense and longer in duration than any ever experienced during high school or college combined. For a couple weeks now, I've been a red spotty, bumpy mess. I. AM. NOT. USED. TO. THIS... Luckily for me, my skin condition was pretty mellow throughout my adolescence and my parents were quite attentive, sending me off to see a demotologist before I could ever really experience a real break out; they're all about prevention. I had never imagined I'd experience my worst skin issues into my thirties though - ?!?

31 Years Old Now

Some things I hadn't thought would be the case at age 31.

1. I never thought I'd be in love with someone who is 10 years my senior.
2. I never would have imagined that I'd be given semi-parent access to someone's child; a most gorgeous 7 year old angel boy-O, who I love so much I think at times my heart could burst.
3. I never thought it'd be so much work to stay in shape ~ or that I'd miss the body I had in my twenties = I finally appreciate my 20-something years.
4. I never thought I'd get up enough guts to get my butt back in school for a graduate degree.
5. And I would have never guessed my area of study would be Public Administration.
6. I never would have imagined I'd get along so well with my parents as I do now, today.
7. I thought I'd have children of my own by now (I know, I know = I still have time).
8. I never thought I'd live in Las Vegas and for so long - over six years?!?
9. I never thought I'd EVER consider moving to Los Angeles, better yet, plan to MOVE there?!?!?
10. I never thought I'd have a wrinkle crinkle between my eyebrows already!
11. I still love to sneeze juhsst as much as I did when I was a kid.
12. I still feel like a kid whenever there's snowy weather.
13. I still want and seek my parents' approval.
14. I never thought I'd get divorced.
15. I thought I'd have a house of my own by now.
16. The memory of my mother hasn't faded.
17. I still remember the sound of her laugh.
18. I still wish and want to be like her.
19. I still don't particularly care for olives.
20. Nor do I like guacamole.
21. I still have food issues based on texture before flavor.
22. I still don't like to drink carbonated beverages.
23. I still wish I had played some kind of sport in high school.
24. I still hope to someday visit Thailand.
25. I still hope to someday learn how to play all my mother's piano music.
26. I never thought I could justify buying a laptop of my own with a functioning PC at home, but now I don't have to, since my parents gave me one for my birthday/early graduation gift!?! woo-hoo! I'm using it write now as I type!
27. I still cry openly when given significant, meaningful gifts.
28. I still have a hard time keeping my mouth shut when excited about a gift I have to give for someone.
29. I still feel guilty about some things - minor things - I did during my childhood.
30. I'd still rather be a gullible, trusting fool, than a cranky, bitter cynic.
31. I don't feel like I'm 31 - I still feel like a kid most of the time.

WOO-HOO! Hoppy Noo Yeer!

Hope everyone had a most happiest of happy New Year celebrations!
I hope to share a more substantial post soon - oh, but I should mention... I hit the slopes today without incident! Was wonderful! and my honey-man on the slopes? As my lil' bro says, "He's very modest."

Owww! oh! oh no! Oh my...

Hope everyone had a most wonderful Chrimpus holiday! Yes? and Me? well, um, I had planned on sharing a Chrimpus post before now, and had also hoped to make the rounds before the 25th, wishing fellow bloggers the best... but what? Well, those size 7 boys jammers I had mentioned earlier? and my honey-man's secret present I needed to finish? The night of the 22nd, I spent hours sewing on 'em and it is now very clear to me that my early 20s are long gone = I can no longer use my sewing machine sitting on the floor.

The morning of the 23rd, I threw my back out. Yup, it was juhhst lovely. the initial pain? I had to crawl into the front room on my forearms and knees, ever soooo so SLOWLY, like a slug, in search of my cell phone. As I went, Otis and Owen were absolutely befuddled and they crept along beside me, around me, beneath me, in circles around me, wondering what the hell was up with this new posture I was sporting. I couldn't help but laugh at the situation though, eye-level with the kitties.

So basically the day was shot before it began. Instead of wrapping up some online stuff and some last minute gifts before packing the car and hitting the road for L.A., I laid flat on my back in bed, occasionally groaning a bit. Luckily, thanks to loads of rest, lots of ibuprofen, the dilegent alternating of applied heat and ice, and lots of loving advice and encouragement and coaching from my family in Iowa, I eventually made an uncomfortable drive to L.A. the next day, arriving in time for Christmas Eve - minus the rich "Market Street Grill" clam chowder or the marbled cheesecake or almondine honey veggies or any of the other items I'd planned on preparing for that evening.

Granted, this whole back thing brought most of my Christmas Eve and Day plans to a screeching halt... HOWEVER, this was my first Chrimpus in L.A. with both my honey-man and the angel-boy O ~ and that's the BEST! Frequently finding myself veclempted throughout the weekend, I've had a really good one despite the bad back! It's been a love-loaded holiday ANNNND I totally plan to share details and pics later, but right now, this sitting at the compooter is beginning to aggravate my back ~ Yeah, I'm not quite entirely okay just yet. Fingers crossed that I'll be able to ski the slopes of Keystone, CO next week - puhleeeze!?! Puhleeze let me be able to ski! puhleeze?
Wish me luck! AND HAVE A HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Planning to post, Really I am

I gots stuff tah say about Chrimpus, I do! I'm planning on it, but I need to first go sew some flannel jammies for a size 7 in 'boys' and I also desperately need to finish my SECRET *shhh* surprise gift I'm making for my honey-man. Don't tell!

Blurb for Today

A study conducted by UCLA's Department of Psychiatry has revealed that the kind of face a woman finds attractive on a man can differ depending on where she is in her menstrual cycle.

For example: If she is ovulating, she is attracted to men with rugged and masculine features.

However, if she is menstruating, or menopausal, she tends to be more attracted to a man with scissors lodged in his temple and tape over his mouth while he is set on fire.

No further studies are expected.

Red, Jeweled Fruits

This post is basically about how I had my first pomegranate in over 18 years ~ it was a big little moment for me. Yes, sounds TOTALLY lame -I know- but what I'm sayin' is so-so-so true. First of all, I wore a red shirt in honor of the occasion - why is that significant? Well, for the fact that I could vaguely recall how messy pomegranates are... In fact, if I remember right, my mum would give me a small bowl and hand me a pomegranate she had split open to start me off, and then she'd send me OUTSIDE, but only if I was already wearing either red or dark clothing. SIDENOTE: I wore a lot of red as a kid and still wear a lot of reds -never, ever became a fan of 'pink' until my mid-twenties- although indigo blue has always been my favorite color ~ which brings us to Another SIDENOTE: Always in error, my mother frequently cited red as my favorite color.
Anyhow, a colleague at work had literally given me a 5-gallon bucket of pomegranates from his own pomegranate tree-?/bush-? [I guess I could check that one online, but I'm too lazy to do it right now.] Over a couple weeks' time, I gave the pomegranates away to friends at work and total strangers, alike = People would come into my office to ask me a question and I'd reply, "Want a pomegranate?" No one would ever take more than one, but I managed to give away all but four. I took those 4 pomegranates home over 2 weeks ago (yes, they keep a really, really long time in the fridge). Yup, stashed in my crisper, I ignored their existence for at least 2 whole weeks. Last Saturday, as I removed them from the crisper to make room for new fruits and veggies, I set the uneaten pomegranates out on the floor (???) as if I was planning to throw them out - and I was, but instead of tossing them out, I left the kitchen to go busy myself with something else. I came and went from the kitchen several more times that morning, ignoring the pomegranates. Finally, I asked myself, "Geesh, what's up with the pomegranates and this most obvious passive, avoidant behavior?" And the answer hit me - it grabbed my heart and lodged itself in my throat = it was too painful. I couldn't even remember how to eat them. I wanted my mum to start one for me. I wanted her to hand me one, ready for me to open.
Immediately, having realized the psychological drama surrounding these poor, neglected pomegranates that lay on my kitchen floor outside the pantry door, I went to my bedroom to change into a red shirt (picture taken later that day).
It took me over 20 minutes to rediscover just how to open and gut these babies - and the mess? I was giggling like a total goomba, tearing up at the same time and giggling some more, pleased as punch about the delightful mess I was making. I was amazed -and still am- at how much I felt like a little kid, like I did nearly 19 years ago; running out the back door at top speed, to plop down in the cool grass with my pomegranate in hand, singing ABBA's "Waterloo" at the top of my lungs.
P.S. Now that I know/remember how to eat 'em and I do happen to be much older now, I don't believe my next pomegranate will require I wear red for the occasion.

Guilty Confession

I really love the holiday gift-package-packing dancers in the Kohl's commercials showing on TV right now. You may need Adobe's Macromedia's Flash Player (link here for free install).

Blog Cookie Exchange

Susie's a clevah girl and came up with this nifty blogging cookie exchange idea of sorts... Sharing online yer Christmas recipes, special holiday traditions, apparel and gifts. I'm late in the day to be doing this, but I'm doin' it!
RECIPES: This recipe, amongst a gazillion others (Chocolate Cherry Bars, Peanut Butter Blossoms, Candy Cane Cookies, Carmels, Turtles, Ginger Molasses cookies, Russian Teacakes, Mint-topped Brownies, Pumpkin Choc Chip Muffins, Ginger Lemon Muffins, Cranberry Bread, Frosted Gingerbread, Sugar Cookies, etc. etc. etc), has been a part of my Christmas baking/cooking repertoire for years - except the last few, going out of town each year. Anywhooo, my mum's family LOVES this "Philadelphia Fudge" recipe. NOTES: Continued on the back of the recipe card is written, "slice when set." Another thing, we always keep this stuff in the freezer - soooo yummy - it will melt in your mouth! Also, I sift the powdered sugar before adding it to either the cream cheese (c.c. should be at room temperature!) or melted chocolate because it makes good for mixing smoother fudge. As for "chopped nuts," use your own fave ~ I prefer either pecans or walnuts, myself.

Special TRADITIONS: Although customary for most, the Christmas Stocking has always been one of my favorite traditions... "Santa" personally stuffs mine (Santa is code for my honey-man, of course) and not until Christmas morning do I get to see with what lil' goodies it's been filled - one music CD is always requisite and milk chocolate. I. LOVE. STUFFING. STOCKINGS. Christmas Stockings. LOVE IT! And this year!?!? This will be my first time to stuff the Christmas Stocking of a child ~ my honey-man's sweet angel boy-O! I consider this opportunity an honor, most seriously. Not unlike last Easter -playing the Easter Bunny for the first time- I'm terrified that I'll disappoint. For this Christmas as Santa, however, unlike my first try at the Easter Bunny role, I solemnly swear that I will NOT overdo the chocolate/candy this time = this is my promise. P.S. My mummy made this Chrimpus stocking for me sometime before 1985, when we lived in SLC.




APPAREL: Okay, I don't really own any Christmas- themed apparel... I have a few snowflake- themed turtlenecks (5 of 'em) that I wear throughout the holiday season, but Christmas specific? No. Instead, I have pins, decorative Christmassy clothing pins. Each coat I may wear during the winter holiday season has a Chrimpus pin ~ and here's a sampling of them. I do not know where I got this lil' personal tradition; no one in my family does this but me. I just decided to do it, and as I acquired more and more pins (each and every one has been a gift from someone), it's become possible to "decorate" every winter coat I own. This decision to wear Christmas pins is kinda like the independent decision I made on my own at age 7 to cover my mouth when I yawn - no one explicitly ever told me or by habitual example taught me to cover my mouth when I yawn; I just decided to do it. I remember watching my mother -a very pretty woman- yawning ever so casually at the kitchen table one morning. That moment in my memory is crystalline - the way the mind works is a total mystery to me. Anyhow, it was then and there in that moment of time that I decided I would always, whenever possible, cover my mouth with my hand when I yawn cuz yawning with your mouth wide open? face all stretched and contorted? = it's totally unattractive. But I digress...

GIFTS: Nope, no can do-do ~ Sorry, but I cannot reveal my secrets!
Christmas is coming people! DUH-ER!

I Bring you "Total Kitty Cuteness" aka my lil' Mister Owen

Amy, the Funnie Laydee

Go to this website (link HERE) and check out Amy's comedy routine - her Twelve Days of Christmas bit (hardly a mere bit) is absolutely hilarious!

It Helps that I Love Yogi

Tomorrow morning, I'll be mailing off ALLL of my pink lids to Yoplait for their "Save Lids to Save Lives" campaign.
This pile represents A LOT of yogurt!

Happily, I licked each one clean!

"Moderate Risk"

Good news this morning ~ Although still considered positive for pre-cancerous cervical cells - a condition now known to me as "dysplaysia" - my biopsy results came back as "moderate risk," versus low or severe. I was, of course, hoping for "low", but either way, whether my results had been found to be low risk or moderate, I now have to see the doc every 3 months for follow-up testing for the next year to monitor my status. I was told my condition may go away altogether on its own, but if not, and my tests continue to test out as positive/moderate, the next step will be to have the top layer of my cervix surgically shaved off - ?!? Naah, it's not as alarming as it may sound, and although I would have to undergo anesthesia, it's just an outpatient surgery, and it would in no way affect my ability to have children down the road someday. At this point, my doc assures me there is very little chance to none that I will ever go so far as to develop cervical cancer, as we'll be watching me like a hawk from here on out. THANKS FOR ALL THE WELL WISHES!

Hot Damn!

Isn't the expression "Hot damn" supposed to be used much like "wowzers?" An expression used when one is stunned by something before them? or impressed?
Is it to be used in the affirmative or negative?
I dunno - nevermind all that - all I do know is that it's hot cocoa time here in Vegas, baby! Meaning, it's officially COLD here!!! Last night I could see my breath and my nosey hairs stuck to the inner lining of my nose when I inhaled! Sure, it's not freezing-my-butt-off-in-Minnesota cold, but it's purty damn cold for my pansy bum.

Has anyone ever heard anyone use the expression "Cold damn?" - is there such a thing?

Tah Dah! ~ Recipe for "Cranberry Fluff Fruit Salad"

Thanksgiving last year, while we were visiting my parents in Iowa for the holiday, my honey-man discovered for the first time the scrumptious, fruity, tangy yumminess that is Cranberry Fluff. He also met my parents for the first time. And it was also the first time since 1994 that I had brought a significant other home to Iowa to meet the parents!

Anyhow, once my honey-man had experienced the delicious culinary delight that is Cranberry Fluff, he typed up the recipe and emailed it to me before we returned to Vegas to make sure I'd have it for the future.

My own personal notes have been added in either smaller or larger type.

2 cups ground, fresh cranberries - a food processor is a must or all you'll have is a mess!
3 cups tiny marshmallows
3/4 cup sugar
2 cups diced, unpared (meaning keep the skin) tart apples (I use one Granny Smith, and one crisp red apple of some kind, usually "honey-crisp" apples)
or 2 large cans chunk pineapple (or some of each, I would suppose?)
NOTE: MY FAMILY HAS NEVER USED THE PINEAPPLE!
1/2 cup seedless green grapes - we cut 'em in halves
1/2 cup coarsely chopped walnuts
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup either heavy cream or regular whipping cream, whipped - Oops, I'm so sorry (not really), guess I was wrong... No Cool Whip = Definitely not up to Mormon fruit salad standards!

Combine ground cranberries, marshmallows and sugar. Do not overmix or the marshmellows will fall apart. Cover and chill overnight. The following day, gently add the apples, pineapple (only if you believe you absolutely must!!!), grapes, walnuts, and the salt, and then gently fold in the whipped whipping cream. Chill for at least a half hour before serving. Put in a serving bowl or individual lettuce cups. Trim with clusters of fresh green grapes if desired.

Yield: 8 to 10 servings (unless I'm there!) and ENJOY!