Peace, Love, and Curse Words

So I got into my first car accident last week... possibly one of the most traumatic experiences of my life, which should make for a good blog. So here we go. Over a week ago, I was asked to babysit for a delightful family for the entire day. All I had to do was babysit a little girl named Sadie who is in my nursery and her older brother Drew who would be gone half the day for Kindergarten. I'm thinking piece of cake. ya, not so much. Sadie was missing her parents and crying most of the morning. So after I tried everything else, I promised to take her to my farm so she could see the animals. She was content with that. So we headed over to my house. So I have always had this fear of driving other people's cars. I've never been in an accident before or anything, I just don't feel comfortable driving other people's vehicles. But I had no other choice and I buckled Sadie in and we headed out. I was being very cautious and using every turn signal and staying under the speed limit. I was doing everything right and yet the world still hates me. I was turning into my little dirt road and some red truck behind me tries to pass me on a residential street and runs into my car. And when I say my car, I actually mean their car. It was only a scratch and no one was hurt which was a tender mercy. I figured I would just exchange information real quick and it wouldn't be a huge deal. So I get out of the car to find a fifty-year-old biker hippie. Long scraggly beard, tiedye shirt, leather vest, chains, the whole shebang. He was very nice and asked if we were alright. He even called me darling. But then I suggested exchanging insurance information and he starts crying. He explained how he couldn't afford his insurance going up any more. I tried to be sympathetic but reminded him that we needed to exchange info. He then started yelling curse words to the sky. Seriously, yelling. I had neighbors looking out their windows wondering what this guy was doing. I nicely asked him to calm down and brought attention to a scared two-year-old in the back seat. He apologized and called me darling again but then again went back to shouting curse words. So I called my mom outside and took Sadie quickly inside before she learned an entirely new vocabulary. We then had to call the police and everything was quickly resolved. I spent the rest of the day babysitting two kids and trying to get Sadie to stop saying "darn it." (edited)

Moral of the Story - I'm never babysitting again.

Elizabeth Mae

My first experience as an aunt proved to be an enlightening one. . . babies hate me. I've always had this suspicion but I've carefully avoided babies for the last twenty years to avoid making that suspicion a reality. But for the first time in my life, I finally had a niece. (It's about time!) Elizabeth Mae Miller was born August 12, 2009. Liz was 6 pounds 14 ounces and 20 1/2 inches long. Mae's as beautiful as a baby can be. I went to the hospital to hold my favorite niece for the first time and it turns out that Beth was ready for me. I had only been holding Lizzy for about ten seconds before she took a huge dump in her diaper for me. Ten seconds later, Betty decided to do it again. Before I had the chance to hand Lizzy Mae over to her dad for a diaper change, Elizabeth decided to spit up her entire meal. In the thirty-eight seconds I was holding her, Betsy pooped twice and puked on me. What a precious little miracle. I was there for about an hour and half and that minute I held her was the only one that Eliza decided to puke or poop on anyone. Apparently, I'm her favorite.

Moral of the Story - Since Miller has about a dozen different nicknames, I can pretty much call her anything I want. I'm going to go with Harley. Welcome to the world Harley!

I've Got a Feeling

There are few things in this world that make me truly happy - family, friends, Chuck Norris, etc. But also on this list is music. No matter if I'm stressed or tired or angry, music is my happy place. If I were Peter Pan, my happy thought would be my favorite song of the week, which just so happens to be "I've Got a Feeling" by Black Eyed Peas. It's a wonderful song, a bit overplayed on the radio, but what great song isn't. Anyways, I worked eight hours at Payless and it was no picnic. Since we have Back to School Sales going on, it's been crazy busy and entirely no fun. Just imagine measuring smelly kids' feet all day. No fun. But I finally got off work and got in my car to drive home. While driving, my favorite song came on. My entire day went from miserable to happiness in .2 seconds. So I stopped at a red light at Southern and Harris. I could've turned right but I chose to pause and take it all in. So I turned up my radio as loud as it goes and rolled down all the windows. I then proceeded to perform the best car dancing of my entire life. I was busting it up for about half a minute when I looked over to the car next to me. To my dismay, it turned out to be a cop car. He was staring at me and instead of a smile on his face, he ominously shook his head at me. I hung my head in fake shame and turned off my music and then turned right onto Southern. I waited for half a mile to see if he was following me. When the coast was clear I cranked my music back up and continued my wicked car dancing moves.

Moral of the Story: My mother hoped I had learned a lesson from this experience and I have. Here it is... Always check for cops before car dancing.

Roadtrippy!

So my brother got married, which only means one thing - ROADTRIP! I loaded up in the truck with two of my smelly sisters and parents and roadtripped it to Oregon. It was a party! I was in a real life game of Oregon Trail. My sister almost died of dysentary and I killed over three thousand pounds of buffalo but I could only carry ten pounds back. But I digress...

We went on the coolest River Rafting Trip ever! One of the coolest things I've ever done in my life, exception being the time I pulled the lever for the chemical shower in the science lab. We also went Temple hopping - we saw 6 temples and went in three of them. I also saw tons of cool family like my grandparents (my grandpa thinks i'm lippy, whatever that means), my aunt Suzie and uncle Lowell, and my aunt Lori and uncle Mark in Idaho. It was a party! That was our awesome week - river rafting, temple hopping, and family. oh and I almost forgot, my brother got married. that was fun too, i guess. there was the wedding, and the reception, and the luncheon (i gave a tear jerking toast... written by my sister. apparently i'm not trusted with saying anything in front of strangers without a script), and decorating the car. It was cool.

And this is our High School Musical pose picture. While ditching the reception, we took the opportunity to take pictures that included the HSM pose and tree hugging. You just haven't experienced Oregon until you've been a tree hugging hippie. i'm just sayin'...

Moral of the Story: It's only creepy if you make it creepy.

Another reason i love wistie...

http://wistie.blogspot.com/2009/07/r-r-random.html

Moral of the Story: Wistie puts the dang love in random. it's there, look for it.

Our Fallen Fowl Friend

On June 25, 2009, three memorable beings died. The King of Pop, Charlie's Angel, and Ed Bert. Ed Bert passed on from this bitter cruel world. She died from heat exhaustion under the triple digits of the Arizona sun. I tried to do everything I could to save her. But I was too late and she moved on to a big bird heaven in the sky. But to make sure I sent her off in style. And yes, I wrote that correctly. Ed bert is indeed a female chicken aka a hen. I might have named her after she died and I apparently do not know the difference between a hen or a rooster. But i digress. I was determined to give Ed bert a funeral that any chicken would be proud of. My dad wanted to just throw her in the trash can but I felt it was my harry potteric duty to dig a grave and bury him personally. So after an eight hour shift at Payless, I came home to dig a hole at the hottest part of the day. But before I continue, let me describe his cemetary location. Our roping shoot, I recently discovered, is an illegal graveyard for horses and cows. Picture Lion King, if you will, with the elephant graveyard. Pretty much the same idea. So I chose an ideal spot next to the Jeep with a prime view of the McDonald's arch and started digging. The cows just happened to be in the roping shoot and they joined the circle to remember their fallen fowl friend. I spent about an hour digging a grave worthy of chicken royalty. Then the funeral service began. Nothing was lacking. We obviously had a vicar, which i just recently found out is a clergical officiator. Bishop Ellsworth was there to offer a beautiful eulogy. And I might be mistaken but I think I saw a tear in one of the cow's eyes. We then had a musical number provided by my iPod - Wind Beneath My Wings by Bette Midler. It was a beautiful ceremony.

Moral of the Story - Never invite a cow to a funeral. (Apparently, cows are not respectful of the dead. As I left the funeral service, I watched as a cow walked over and micturated on the newly dug grave. And that is why I will never bury a cow. That and because I'll prolly eat him for dinner.)

Saturday Schedule to Stimulate a Soporific Set

Do you remember in Sesame Street when they used to dedicate each episode to a certain letter? Well. . . yesterday I went back to my childhood years and took a leaf out of Big Bird's book. Yesterday was sponsored by the letter S.

Saturday Schemes
Sleepover with Stacy
Service at Salk Elementary School
Sleep
Swimming
Sun Bathing
Sun Burning
Strawberry Limeades at Sonic
Shopping at Superstition Springs for Senior pictures shirts (beat that!)
Service at Schaubs
Psych - Shawn in Santa Barbara
Sterling date
Snack - Chocolate cake at Wal-mart. (ok, kind of a stretch. but i was really craving choco cake!)
Watch SNL on Sesame Street
Psych again - (ok, so it starts with a 'p' but it has a 's' sound. so sue me!)

Moral of the Story - Ironically enough Stacy was never allowed to watch Sesame Street as a child. Apparently talking puppets are a poor substitute for teachers no matter how knowledgeable they are about the alphabet.