February Photo Dump

Andrew got a new camera, so if it looks like he doesn't do anything with us, that is not true. He is playing with his fancy pantsy camera.

In February, we didn't do anything big. We lived our normal lives.

We went on lots of walks in the cold.




We bathed.




We napped and awoke from said naps.






We went to the zoo and hung out in a meerkat hole.


We learned how to climb things.




We celebrated Valentine's Day. Thanks Andrew!



(You can see that I'm not good at the new camera)

We read books.


We practiced the piano.


And brushed our teeth.


Pretty uneventful but also really great!

Sometimes, It's Hard to Think

It is hardest to think in the middle of the night. Last night, I was at my parents' house. So were my aunt and uncle and my cousin and his wife. So there was no bed for me--except for Matt's bed (he's on his mission). But I went into his room and the bed, floor, and everywhere were covered with stuff my parents just stuffed into his room cuz they didn't know where to put it. I was too tired to move things, and I knew if I didn't, I would step on things in the night when I got up to pee (hey, I'm pregnant). Then I had an idea! I could sleep on the couch downstairs, which I tried to do. Unfortunately, a cricket has escaped and took up residence under the fridge. I swear that thing is the size of crickets in China, it was so dang loud. So then I went upstairs to the other couch to sleep. But that cricket was still very loud and it continued to bother me. No sleep for me. So then, I did what any intelligent person would do in the middle of the night. I thought of the one place that I wouldn't hear the cricket to go sleep--the Mini Cooper I'm borrowing from my in-laws! Brilliant! So I took my thin blanket outside and locked the front door (now I could no longer get back into the house) and climbed into the Mini Cooper's back seat. And I had the best three hours of sleep I had all night. Good thing I am very short and not super pregnant fat yet. I realized that maybe I should have picked a larger car to sleep in, such as the Ford Edge or the BMW or something, but hey, it is really hard to think in the middle of the night. And then, since I was locked out, I knocked on the door at 7 a.m., certain that Dad would be awake. Nothing. So I called Mom, and she let me in. Turns out, Dad was awake, but had already gone to the gym, which meant the door from the house to the garage was unlocked and I could have gotten in on my own. And, the moral of the story is (as Mom put it), now I can be a hobo since I can sleep anywhere.

At least, anywhere where there isn't a huge cricket chirping all freaking night.

My New Nephew!

I'm an aunt!

My sister Melanie had this little guy, Nigel, on April 11.

And I'm an aunt!

Andrew and I went to visit him that afternoon. The poor guy was in the NICU for low blood sugar levels, so we could not hold him, just stroke him. But he was still very cute.

Hi Nigel! Get well soon!

Chubby cheeks :)

Oh sorry Nigel, I forgot to turn the flash off.

Aunt Sarah and Uncle Andrew with Nigel.

Fortunately, he wasn't in the NICU for too long. It has almost been a week since I saw him. That is so sad, but I am going to visit today so we can hold him. We were in Washington for the weekend, more on that coming soon!

Happy Birthday to Me!

My birthday was last Sunday on April 1. It was a great day. My family and Andrew's family had a party. I love parties. We ate yummy raclette, opened presents, played Just Dance 3, and then ate birthday pie. :) It was a great great party, probably the most fun party I've had in recent years.

Even though we filmed the Just Dance party, no one really wants to watch it. If you do, let me know and I'll show you. So you can just look at some pictures.

Leslie, Daniel, Glenn, Bryanna dancing to "California Girls"

Maren, Hannah, Wesley, Elise dancing to "Hit Me Baby One More Time"

Dad, Accountant Dan, Me, and Clara dancing to something.

Leslie, Daniel, Wesley, and Elise dancing.

Andrew, Hannah, Bryanna, and Glenn dancing.

 

Wesley, Accountant Dan, Maren, and Clara dancing.

Mom, Dad, Glenn, Heidi dancing.

Elise, Clara, Hannah, Bryanna dancing

Leslie, Elise, Maren, Me dancing

Daniel, Hannah, Elise, and Me dancing

Time for some birthday pie!

Yay! What a good day. Now I am 24, and it is good to be olderish.

Ugghh

Ugghh because:

Sometimes Spanish makes me want to slit my wrists. I used to be that student who always scored the highest. Now I'm probably at the bottom of the heap.

Ugghh--why do I have to show competency in a language that is not even applicable to my research?

If you go to an Institute class that is in Spanish and therefore full of fresh returned missionaries, no one will want to be your friend when they notice your wedding ring. And you will sit all alone. And then you will be sad. But then not too sad cuz you are  happy you are married to a handsome man who speaks Chinese instead of Spanish. And then you will realize that it is probably better this way since all the fresh returned missionaries are 2 to 3 years younger than you.

Ugghh--why can't people just be friends instead of always being on the hunt?

and

Ugghh--when did I get so old?

I didn't go running today. I like running but I don't like exercising in the afternoon. I should have gone running right after my swim.

Ugghh--why am I so tired and dead in the afternoons?

and

Ugghh--when did I turn into one of those crazy active athletic people? It is exhausting.

That is all.

Mark Twain, Goldfish Extraordinaire, 2006-2012

In February 2006, I asked my neighbor Nate to the Sadie Hawkins dance at Davis High School. I think I sent him fortune cookies that had my name in them or something, saying "I would be so fortunate if you went to the dance with me!"

He answered me back, "Of all the fish in the sea, I'm so glad you picked me." And then he gave me four comet goldfish, most commonly known as feeder fish. One was dead by the time I got home from wherever I was (maybe school?) and I named the other three Henry VIII, Cleopatra, and Mark Twain. I named Henry VIII thusly because he had a dark spot that looked like a beard and Mark Twain thusly because he had a dark spot that looked like a mustache. Cleopatra and Henry VIII died in a few days, and I fully expected Mark Twain to go any day.

But he was a survivor. He continued to live.

I noticed his "mustache" was getting better. My mom had some fish medicine to help with ulcers and infections, so I put it in his tank. And he lived. His "mustache" went away and he lived.

After my freshman year, he got a new friend named Squishy. In 2007 they moved up to college with me. Mark Twain and Squishy were inseparable--mostly because they lived together in a small tank.

Here they are in their clean tank--be shocked and amazed. I really did try to keep it clean. Mark Twain is above Squishy. Mark Twain was also bigger, had a more flowing tail and fins, and was a more yellow gold color than Squishy.

And he lived with Squishy for many more years. Sometimes in a clean tank, but when I put them in the windowsill (where I like it the most) it got covered in algae.

Mark Twain on the left, Squishy on the right. This was after their sucker fish friend Zorro died and I went on vacation for a week.

Sometimes I just like to take pictures of my pets. And since these are the only pictures of Mark Twain and Squishy that I actually knew where they were saved, you will just have to look at the nasty fish tank (which I promptly cleaned--the pictures were also to document its green algae).

"Hey, you should feed us." Squishy to the left, Mark Twain on the right. They are little pig fish and love to snarf food.

I was always amazed that they had lived so long. My Mom even started calling them her "grandfishes."

Mark Twain swimming around.

And then on Tuesday, when I had the flu, I hear a fish splashing around. Andrew said, "Mark Twain is freaking out." I shrugged and fell asleep. After I threw up and did other things one does when they are sick, I checked the tank and saw Mark Twain on his side and the bottom. He was just breathing slowly. "Oh no!" I said, "I think Mark Twain is going to kick the bucket." And by bedtime he was gone. And I said a nice eulogy, flushed him down the freshly cleaned toilet, and didn't let Andrew poop for a few minutes to give Mark Twain's body time to find a final resting place.

Mark Twain in the back and Squishy in the front, checking out the view of the windowsill.

Good bye, Mark Twain. You were a good fish. You lived a long and happy life (I think it was happy). I'm sorry you hurt yourself and died from your injuries. You had the longest life of any cheap goldfish I have ever heard of. Rest in peace in the sewer.