picking up.

tiny gramma is in town.

neti pot and all.

And if the neti pot comes?

The camera comes.

tiny camera tiny gramma camera

And if the camera comes?

So does mine.

Tiny gramma is exactly what I needed to help get me out of my funk.

(Okay so the funk isn’t cured. But picking my camera up felt pretty good.)

the red door Greendiana Greendiana Two the fishmoosheye Gothic Cathedral Crown Hill Cross Crown Hill Angel Bunny Larkspur Unknown bug love

(yeah, they’re totally doing it.)

******

Taken at Crown Hill Cemetery, Holliday Park and the Talbot Street Art Fair.

a uterine factory reset is scheduled.

Hi Internet.

How are you?

Me? I’m still kind of having a rough time. Cody has started studying hardcore for the bar, it should be against the law to study 12 hours a day for two months straight for ONE TEST.

But that’s just my opinion.

I have my house, but after having the utilities turned on to have it inspected, a pipe blew up somewhere in the ceiling and rendered a light fixture and bathroom fan makeshift water fountains. HURRAH FOR HOME OWNERSHIP!

(As an aside, the bathroom fan, when there is no shower to void humidity, what purpose does the fan truly serve? Is it to cover up noises? Or suck smelly air out? Because personally I think they suck at the latter. I could give examples but I just ate.)

Here’s the other thing. I have to have real surgery. Like I’m going to be konked out and have to sign release waivers and have things cut into me. My belly specifically. The next step to project moosh 2.0 is to factory reset my uterus with a good deep cleaning via¬† a laparoscopy (lappa-ross-kuppy).

I’m kinda scared.

They call it a “microinvasive” surgery. Regardless, it has the word INVASIVE in it and invasions are never good, unless it’s the invasion of lots of money into my bank account, or cheeseburgers into my mouth.

I’ve only been knocked out once for my wisdom teeth and I remember McSalad Shakers being the last thing I heard as I drifted under.

But this? I’m going to wake up after having stuff shoved in my belly. Sharp stuff. My uterus will have been roto rooted. That can’t feel good right? I had one friend who had a laparoscopic procedure done and their exact words?

“Oh, just feels like I’ve been STABBED IN THE STOMACH FIVE TIMES.”

eep!

And then there’s all these rumors of gas escaping out of your shoulders.

hold me!

Plus I watched Dateline years ago where they covered the whole topic of anesthesia working on your body but not on your mind. (Called anesthesia awareness, there’s an entire campaign. So don’t tell me it’s made up, if there’s a campaign? I have reason to be nervous.)

So basically you’re frozen stiff and everyone thinks you’re asleep but in reality you’re awake and can FEEL AND HEAR EVERYTHING.

I’m not allowed to watch Dateline anymore for a plethora of reasons, this one included.

Okay.

So.

There you go.

Busted pipes both in my ceiling and in my abdominal cavity.

June 23rd, a uterine factory reset is scheduled.

Good times!

our. first. house. (before)

MAI NEW HOWSE welcome to my new house! Living Room family room

Christmas to come a view to upstairs

dining room my back yard Playroom-Loft playroom MAI BEDROOM

2,900 sq. feet. 4 bedrooms. under $110K.

the house down the street is for sale.

any takers? i’m a really good neighbor.

we move in august.

(i bake!)

wherein I fight to the death over (not in) green jell-o.

Amidst all this PC/religion/namecalling garbage a new kind of debate has aroused itself.

The religious/regional/cultural food debate.

I will admit that part of the reason I love living around a bunch of different denominations of Christians is the fish fry. Fish fries are proof that God loves us no matter what church we do or don’t go to and wants us to be happy, full of greasy fish, tartar sauce and cheap buns.

The other day I got this comment:

I’m offended because I’m Southern Baptist and we actually eat fried chicken, not fried fish…Ahem.

Lesson learned. (And she was kidding, lighten up people.)

The entire United States is unknowingly engaged in culinary battle. Take the KC/St. Louis BBQ battle. Or the Chicago/New York pizza battle. Utah is legendary for fry sauce (I MISS YOU FRY SAUCE) and Indiana boasts tenderloin as big as your head.

This brings me to Mormon food.

Funeral Potatoes.

Frog Eye Salad.

Hawaiian Haystacks.

Carrot Raisin salad.

Green Jell-O. (Often with pineapple, Cool Whip, cottage cheese and/or shaved carrots. (Dude, I don’t eat the stuff, I just defend it.))

We have entire Mormon Cookbooks and entire restaurants dedicated to the fine art of cooking with cream of mushroom soup and sour cream. WE PERFECTED THE JELL-O SALAD and also spawned Jell-O products Jell-O didn’t even know Jell-O could be used for.

Some guy out there with a lot of guns thinks he can claim Green Jell-O in the name of the Lutherans.

As if the threat of a lot of guns is going to scare me away from the truth.

Mormons are the only reason green Jell-O is still in production.

Ever heard of THE JELL-O BELT? That’s right, an entire area known for its Jell-O love thanks to a high concentration of Latter Day Saints. Utah’s State Snack Food? Jell-O.

In 2001, after an astounding 14,000 people had signed a petition, JELL-O was made the Official State Snack of Utah. Another fact is that the people of Salt Lake City actually eat more lime flavored JELL-O than any other city in the world. (Source and Source)

In. the. wooooorld.

I really didn’t want it to come to this. But Mr. Gunfighter was adamant that he (exact words)

Never.

Loses.

In.

Combat.

Allow me to show you a pin from the 2002 Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City.

Where’s YOUR green Jell-O pin GUNFIGHTER?

Watch out dude, because I think you just got your Jellass handed to you with delicious pieces of pineapple and a dollop of Cool Whip by a Mormon, the true lovers and proper owners of the Green Jell-O stereotype.

Clean Blog, Clean House.

What is your biggest challenge when it comes to tidying up your house?

Mine? Is piles.

I have piles all over my house.

Piles of toys, piles of papers, piles of books…piles. piles, piles.

Don’t believe me?

WELL LET ME DIRECT YOU TO A VIDEO WITH TRISH SUHR TELLING ME TO GET RID OF THE PILES.

It’s one thing when your mom tells you to clean your room, it’s quite another thing when a perky blonde wearing pink with a thick southern accent admonishes you (and your husband) to get your act together. ON THE INTERNET.

FOR EVERYONE TO SEE.

Whatever, this opportunity has been the best one ever for me. To be able to talk out all my cleaning frustrations. Like that grayish blue furry crap everyone has on top of their fridge. You think my house is messy? GO LOOK ON THE TOP OF YOUR FRIDGE.

HA!

NO ONE IS IMMUNE!