...because I am loving the fact it is snowing outside! I realize most people are probably gagging on the snow, but I love the first snowfall. We always listen to Karen Carpenter's "The First Snowfall", which gets us listening to the rest of the CD, and then to Christmas music the whole day. And by "we" it's my mom and sisters, but I'm the only one here today, so I've respectfully taken my Christmas music in a back room as to not gag the rest of the people (Rhett home barfing, and don't want to gag him worse).
These are the last of my mom's fall roses, blanketed in snow. I LOVE it! I'm going to go watch a cozy Christmas movie, watch the flakes fall outside the window as I finish sewing my swimming suit for next week.
I'd really like to set up the Christmas tree, but I think my Dad would freak. He is Scrooge...or just normal. If you didn't know what a freak I am about Christmas, this is just the intro!!!
I'm sure everyone already knows I'm a dork/ nerd/ lame-o. So I've decided to start a running thread of things to further illustrate that reality...stay tuned. This story isn't so great, but I think the photos are worth a gander. Lurp.
As a little bun-head ballerina, growing up, you have dream roles. I'd say most little girls dream of first being Clara in the Nutcracker, then as you get older, the Sugarplum Fairy.
Not me.
Clara was out early on because I was way too tall and a lurp. Don't get me wrong, I would have LOVED flying off the stage at BYU on that wooden snowflake, but I knew it would never happen. For some reason, I never wanted to be Sugarplum...maybe because she's BORING. As a kid, and even as an older dancer, who obviously appreciates ballet, sugarplum and her cavalier get so boring. The dancers are obviously the best ones around, but it drags on. Maybe different choreography breaks up all their variations better, but the company I danced with put them all in at the end, and it gets old. Plus the Sugarplum just looks pretty and dances around, zero character. My dream roles from The Nutcracker were always Snow Queen or Arabian. These had a little more edge to me, and the audience seemed to enjoy to watch them the whole time. I never danced any of these roles, so I guess I wasn't that great in the end, but this is about dream roles, not performed.
But before Nutcracker, my running dream role was from the little ballet, Hansel & Gretel. This was the first full production ballet I ever performed in. I was 10 years old and cast as a "peppermint guard". Basically, I stood as still as I could in front of the candy cottage for a long time. At one point, we came out in a line, jumped a little, and ran back to stare into the audience from the candy cottage. Our spots in the limelight were less than 20 seconds. But I LOVED it and was so proud to be in the ballet. As I found these photos, I had written on the page: "I was so glad to be a soldier because I didn't have to smile...I had crooked, yellow teeth." That I did. Here are the teeth I was grateful to conceal behind gianormous grease-paint lips:
MY WORST SCHOOL PHOTO. 4TH GRADE.
The nasty, ratty perm, bumpy gel crusted slicked half ponytail, huge bow, buttoned shirt to my chin...and THOSE TEETH I loathed. I was so excited for braces.
So as I stood there guarding the candy cottage scenery, I would watch the act enfold in front of me. I LOVED the witch. She was so amazing to me. Giuliana Bule. She had long hair to her waist they'd puff really big. I have this memory standing against a wall back stage watching them put her scary witch make-up on, just in awe of how great it was. She was so great as the witch. My favorite dancer in the whole ballet. I loved the part she'd check Hansel & Gretel's fingers to see if they'd fattened up. She seemed so evil. But in the end she died by being shoved into the oven. I was the peppermint guard right by the oven, and when she'd fall through, they'd blast out the fog machine, and I loved the smell, and felt really important, you know, being part of the scenery where the whole audience was watching. Although, at that point, I guess I failed to prevent the death of my evil master when I was standing right there, but just stared ahead as she fell to her death.
For years I hoped they'd perform Hansel and Gretel when I was older, in the hopes I could also wear black point shoes and pretend to cannibalize small children on stage, and the best of all...dance really creepy and mean with my hair down.
The weather was so nice this past weekend! We had a lot of fun:
1. I went to Odyssey Dance Theatre's Production of THRILLER. It's a great show, except for the in-between/ comical relief/ kill time/ crap.
2. Let our nephew who is 14 drive us around the back roads of Delta, and changed his life...probably not really, but he loved it.
3. Went to Rhett's grandparent's farm to see the animals. The pigs were gone, but they still have cattle and a few horses. The highlight was the new baby colt and feeding the horses!
4. We saw WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE! I loved it. Rhett hated it. I guess I related to wanting to run around screaming, jumping, sleeping in a big pile, and bossing everyone around a little more than Rhett did. It was great except that they changed all the wild things names. It's MOISHE not Carol. 5. After the movie, Rhett bought me a York Peppermint Pattie from The Quality grocery store to satisfy my craving. It was really good, except I couldn't enjoy it as much with my punk nephews saying: "Gross! Dark chocolate! That is disgusting!" 6. Finished off the weekend with bowls of Count Chocula. The kids hadn't had it before. They were a little interested in Franken Berry, but we steered them in the right direction.Dwight Schrute: The problem, Jim, is that people who are really suffering from a medical condition won't receive the care they need because someone in this office is coming up with ridiculous stuff. Count Choculitis. Jim Halpert: Sounds Tough. Dwight Schrute: Why did you write that down, Jim? Is it because you know I love Count Chocula?
Journals for your Kids An inexpensive, quick project and an idea you and your kids will love years down the road. This is my substitute for scrapbooking my kid's life. So far I've really liked it, and hope my kids will cherish them...obviously more for the letters we write than the crappy little project it is.
Home from Belize! He had a good experience but missed us so much he ended up changing his flight and coming home two days early. We were excited! You can read about his experience on his Belize blog if you want to. I'm hoping to get some photos from his trip up.
Rhett is currently in his ER rotation and enjoying it.
He's planning all these interviews for this fall and winter. He applied to Family Medicine MD residencies and we find out where we move next in March. So far our future home possibilities lie in Utah, Idaho, Washington, Colorado, or Oregon. Maybe I missed some states, I should check the spreadsheet. We are staying in the west this time around.
Also, he wants me to come to as many interviews as I can. Most are driving distance, so it wouldn't require extra plane ticket, and Rhett said he didn't want a "Kirksville repeat". A Kirksville repeat would be me agree to move somewhere, and get there, and complain about the town for two years solid. Ya, buddy. I don't want a Kirksville repeat either. I better come so I know what I'm getting into. Some people love Kirksville.
But Rhett's biggest news is: HE IS OFFICIALLY OVERWEIGHT! There was a time where his BMI teetered into the OBESE category. But thanks to a month in a third world country, and our new deal with exercise, he's lost over 15 pounds or something. It's so funny. Rhett must either have a heavy skeleton, or the fact he's built so thick, or maybe both. But he says he's always been in the overweight category going by his BMI. Even when he was sucking weight and disgustingly trim for wrestling in high school, according to his height and weight he was overweight. So for Rhett, overweight on the chart = normal. We've actually done well exercising together, it's really helped to be responsible for the other person for some reason.
JESSICA:
Had my photo taken for the magazine recipe contest. Remember how I was freaking out? It was this last week. Natalie recommended I go to the MAC counter at Nordstroms to learn how to do eye makeup. I have to admit I was hesitant and that was totally out of my comfort zone. I called to set up an appointment, and they said it was $50.00 and so I said never mind. Natalie ended up calling and making an appt for me, clarifying I just needed eyes so it was free. What a great friend huh? And she sent me a cute apron to wear for it, because I had granny aprons. So the above photo was taken after the MAC chick tried to teach me what everyone else already knows, how to apply eye makeup. The photoshoot was pretty low-key and so we'll see how it turns out, I did my best trying to recreate the MAC chick's work. She'd written things out on this little card and I did my best. I only bought two things from MAC, so I had to borrow my sister's makeup. I am so incredibly lame. So hope the photo ends up OK... I felt like I had the cheesiest smile the whole time...probably did.
I've been sewing a ton to try to take advantage of moms purchasing Halloween costumes for the etsy shop. So I have a superhero cape sweatshop that runs during naps and after bed time into the wee hours of the night. I watch movies as I sew, and have watched all the Jane Austen, Elizabeth Gaskel, George Elliot british period films in the house. I also have watched the whole Lord o Rings trilogy and all the Harry Potters. So if you have good film recommendations that are longer so I don't have to stop to change DVDs, tell me!
Oh, and my childhood was almost crushed when I realized the Ann of Green Gables series totally ripped off Louisa May Alcott. Little Women is such a similar love story, almost identical dialog in the proposals. "You can't even propose without quarreling!" etc. Except in the Anne of Green Gables version, Jo ends up with the young hot Lawrence rather than the old german dude. Similar love story, and the whole writer identity crisis, listening to the dude to write about home in the end. I can't believe I never saw it before now!
By the way, which character do you prefer? I think I may lean to Gilbert, except he has that annoying Canadian way of saying "sorry" like "soarry". Lynette and I always have to say "I'm soarry Anne. I'm soarry." every time Anne of GG is mentioned, it bugs us so bad. But then again, Lynette and I also always observed Lawrence seems like a slobbery kisser in Little Women when he proposed to Jo at the fence. Major gleekage or something going on. It's a toss up. I guess I'd just have to go with the one who has the most money. :)
Not much else going on in my life of note. Well the above two things are lame, but they are the most exciting, so you get the picture.
Rhett James:
Turns 18 months old next week and has been going to nursery for almost 2 months. Our ward only has 4 kids in their nursery, and so I took him early and it's been great! Church is so much better not trying to entertain a toddler the whole three hours! Rhett and I served in the nursery our whole marriage until we had our son, so we had a combined almost 8 years experience babysitting toddlers at church. We saw tons of parents use different strategies to ween their kids into nursery and so over the years we concocted what we thought was the perfect plan. In jest we'd always talk up our strategy and say we should publish a pamphlet, but we'd never actually performed our ideas until we had our own kid. I was kind of nervous because we have so much family around, he's never been to play groups and the majority of his peer interactions are with his cousins. He's also never been babysat by anyone other than family. So we put our nursery plan to the test, and it was awesome with RJ at least. Two weeks and he was going in without tears and happily stayed the full two hours, I don't even go in with him in the beginning! Talk about spiritual liberation, actually being able to go to church and listen and participate.
He got a tricycle from a garage sale for cheap. It was missing a tire, so I just got an inexpensive lawn mower tire to replace it. So the back wheels don't match and it's a little white trash...but so are we so it suits our fam.
He is funny and starting to develop imagination which is fun. He has this stuffed polar bear and he put it up on a plate and mashed it's face into a pear, then stood back and said "food"! He's still using sign language, but it's waning as he's becoming more skilled at verbal speech. My favorite is "thank you". He's mixed up the sign for thank you where you bring your hand palm up from your chin forward, with blowing kisses. So now he always blows you a kiss and says "thank you". Or I'll remind him to say thank you and he'll blow a kiss.
He can be so dang cute and nice, but then one minute later be a little terd. I'm told it's the age. But we love him either way. And 20 second time-outs seem to be beneficial. He'll probably know how to count to 20 by the end of the year. Just kidding.
I took a quiz on Facebook, (I know many are really lame, and this one was no exception) but the result was funny and reminded me of a little story.
The quiz was: "Are You Beautiful, Sexy, Gorgeous, Pretty, Average, or Ugly" quiz Here are my results: You are the average Joe, still pretty, but you are beautiful on the inside and that's what really counts!
Despite this being based on my favorite movie and what my ideal date would be, it is quite accurate I think.
Growing up I was definitely the sweet spirit. What is a "sweet spirit" you ask? Well, it's Mormon vernacular for girl that isn't attractive, but is just kind of lame and nice, and no one wants to date her, and you know why, but you don't want to be mean and say exactly why, so instead you say..."Oh Jessica Kelly. She's a nice girl---boys don't like her much. OOoohh...but she makes really good cookies and has a sweet spirit."
Get the idea?
If not, this clip from Sons of Provo may help explain the sweet spirit for you.
I was totally a sweet spirit, but probably not so nice. A "sweet spirit" that is rotten inside too maybe. My close guy friends nicknamed me "Mother Kelly". So at 17 when I was supposed to be at the peak of my sexy hottness, I was deemed the matron of our teenage group. Nice. Sidenote: I took another Facebook quiz of which Office character I am and I am Phyllis. A theme is being laced through my life I'm starting to notice.
So back to high school being a sweet spirit. Moms loved me. Moms love sweet spirits and try to hook their teenage sons up with sweet spirits because I think moms know we, as sweet spirits are safe. High moral standards, but in reality--their sons would never be interested in anything other than an obligatory half-hug goodnight. Unfortunately teenage boys don't often listen to their grandma's or their mom's dating advice, because dang, if boys had, I could have been busy every Friday night. Maybe not actually.
I thought you might enjoy some high school dance photos since you've made it this far. This is Homecoming my Jr. year. John Guymon asked me--nice of him. He was a really funny friend. I just laughed at the positioning the knight between us. Aren't high school dance photos so awkward?? Maybe I'll host a contest to award the most awkward photo. Anyway...
So here's the memory that popped in my head.
The end of my Junior year of high school, we had to finish up with a big project in AP US History. That was an intense class and exam, and we were all burned out, so me and two friends decided to make a crappy little film in one afternoon and be done. No research, no writing. We have a cement room in our basement my mom designed as a cold cellar. But we refer to this room as the "Bomb Shelter". Our lame little movie was all about the Cold War paranoia and how people stocked and created bomb shelters in the 50s. So we all dressed up to be high school Gidget girls from the 50s. I remember I wore my mom's cat-eye blue glasses from when she was in 3rd grade, a little sweater, skirt, scarf around my neck, folded socks. What is sad is I still have both the skirt and the sweater, and I wore the sweater like 2 days ago. Anyway, back to 2002. For our film, I slicked my hair back in a high ponytail and put on all this bright colored makeup. Like hot pink blush and lipstick. Later that night after the filming, my Dad asked what was with the new look, and I explained it had been for our project. He told me I looked really good, and if I'd look like that all the time, I might get a date. I told him I didn't think this would do anything to change the fact that males had zero interest in me. We talked about it in length, and it ended up being a bet. A wager.
The stakes: $20.00 (try to say 20 dollars in your head like the paperboy in Better Off Dead says Two Dollars, it'll make this story funny if it's lame to read) The condition: I was to wear my slicked back ponytail and clown makeup to school, and if by the end of the day I didn't have a date, my dad would have to pay up. If by some miracle, the slicky-clown-look paid off and I was asked on a date, I would have to fork over $20 pain-stakingly earned from working at the Chicken Shack.
Being a teenager, always eager to earn an easy buck, I was all over this. I dated so rarely, and only was asked out by buddies needing to make an even number in a dance group, or a guy from church who's mom held him to it because she talked to my mom and my mom told his mom how pathetic I was, or the boy who's parents don't want him to be in a serious relationship and deem he needs to date someone else between dates with his girlfriend, etc. Pity dates. Those are the only dates I went on. So they were rare and far between. So I pretty much knew I had this in the bag, and wearing slicked ballet hair with stage makeup to high school didn't bother me. I didn't expect any secret admirers to all the sudden change their mind or anything.
So the next day, I got all clowned up. My first class was actually AP US History. I remember class was pretty casual, because students were just mingling at our desks, which were actually tables. My teacher, Mr. Birrell came up and said: "So....Jessica. I've noticed you've changed your look today." He had been folding his arms, and one hand was up at his mouth, kind of trying to hide his little smile. "Oh ya. My dad is trying to help me get a date, and this is what he thinks will work. I'll win 20 bucks by the end of school when no one has asked me out." Mr. Birrell kind of nodded and said: "Well, good luck in not getting a date today," and walked off.
It was at that point when I realized maybe, just maybe, my dating history wasn't purely from the structure of my face, but behaviorally self inflicted.
In any case, I did end up saying "I do"...and it was so nice for me like the Sons of Provo promised... and I'm pretty sure my dad still owes me 20 bucks.
Dwight Schrute: The problem, Jim, is that people who are really suffering from a medical condition won't receive the care they need because someone in this office is coming up with ridiculous stuff. Count Choculitis.
JESSICA:
Rhett James:
