Fabulous in a Pantsuit

So there I was. The Hart Senate Office Building on Capitol Hill, just walkin' around lookin' around. My fellow intern, Sharine, and I had set out to go to some forum featuring non other than The Hill herself. Hillary on Capitol Hill in the Hart. It was Sharine's idea. Hillary was her American idol. Her inspiration. Her reason for being in D.C. I was just along for the walk because Hillary was just another politican giving just another speech at just another forum and somehow that seemed more bearable to me than sitting in the press office begging for something to do.

And suddenly there she was. There I was, there Sharine was, and there SHE was. Pantsuit and all. I'm thinking it was yellow, but maybe that's because my recent favorite of hers (I think worn in both Michigan and California) is the yellow one with the black lining. Anyway, I think this one was a canary yellow.

She walked out of the room we were heading into and Sharine busted out her camera in a panic. I thought to myself, I should shake Hillary's hand, introduce myself in case some day I care about her. Instead I stood by, ready to make all Sharine's dreams come true. Sharine managed to get the camera on and immediately handed it to me while asking Hillary for a shot. Hillary looked busy, she was talking on the phone, and all her people were around her. But she agreed and they stood together smiling.

I pushed the button. Nothing. Tried a few more times. Nothing. I tried a lot. And still nothing. Sharine ran over and tried to get the camera going. I kept shooting but NOTHING was taking. I couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe it. Hillary could probably believe it but had other things to think about. Hillary stood by and by and by as we tried and tried and tried and shook it and whispered mean things to it. But STILL. Nothing.

Hillary was completely unruffled. She would have stood there all day if she didn't have New York to consider. And just like that, her camp moved on. She said she was sorry but had to go. She was so nice, so patient, all the while talking simultaneously on the phone AND to everybody else. There she went...back to the elevator. Back on the train below. Over to the place where people make the big decisions. And never back into Sharine's life again.

Sharine had a few words to say about it. Mostly swear words.

And I left with the feeling that someday I was going to slightly regret not shaking her hand. Just to say I did it. Just in case she and I would sport the same hairdo at the same time. Just in case she made history. Just in case she actually DID do it all while looking fabulous in a pantsuit.

Maybe There's Hope

When Adam got back from the beard harvest last week (aka, working in Sacramento), I knew we had a chance at beating this thing. This thing called Body Double. He's growing it for the Savior of the World production. We're in the angel choir and the Thespian Leaders want everyone to look authentic. It's only natural that I should go blonde about that time. Totally ancient en vogue. Adam has also taken to the streets, Bicyclists Against Body Doubles. He's so passionate about distancing himself from my look, I can only admire him. I also learned how to use clippers correctly so he's got more hair this haircut around. I know you're all so interested so I'll keep documenting our progress. The most exciting is this beard development...he's never made it past 10 days and today we're going on 9!!

PS - If Hillary wins Super Boos-day, have I got a story for you.

When Mom 'Do = Man 'Do

My hair is in that awkward stage between real stylish and going south. I've got a mullet that rivals Hillary's and sideburns that rival a dude with sick sideburns. Something strange has also happened since sporting this Mom 'Do. I get a lot more well-meaning comments like, "Oh, you and your husband look JUST alike." That was cute and endearing awhile ago but now it's starting to creep me out. Getting ready together in the same mirror is weird enough when you look like brother and sister. Since our hair has been more similar these past three months, I just don't like being a clone. I didn't get married to have a twin. (By the way did you hear this story?) I didn't get born solo to have a twin. And I didn't keep buzzing Adam's hair since summer just so he'd look more like our favorite female pop star who is going south altogether along with her hair.

So without further a 'Do, I'm here to say I'm growing it out. And I'm going blonde soon. And I just bought a swimsuit the other day. It all goes hand in hand.

Waving and Happy

I like to think I was one of the few and lucky to hear one of President Hinckley's last speeches. A couple Sundays ago he spoke via satellite to the Southern California stakes and his topic was something that he was a pro at: marriage. And now I can just see him smiling and waving down at us with his darling Marjorie by his side. Good thing one of my New Year's resolutions involved taking notes at church (cue "Spiritchal as Me") because I'd like to impart them to you now. Cuz they're good. And now you can be as spiritchal as me. And say that you, too, heard what was on the mind of a latter-day prophet in his last days.

Four Cornerstones for a Happy Marriage: (from a guy who knows a lot about cornerstones)

1. Mutual respect - Have an anxious concern for the other's well-being.
2. Soft answer - Turneth away wrath (you saw that coming). Quiet talk is the language of love; the voice of heaven is a still small voice.
3. Financial honesty - Don't be an "extravagant" wife. (Seriously, he said this. Or maybe that's just how I heard it.)
4. Family prayer - Have this daily.

His talk was so good and basic and straightforward and simple. He quoted that favorite quote of his (and always a favorite quote of mine) about life and marriage being like an old time rail journey, rough and bumpy with short bursts of beautiful vistas. And the trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride. So practical. I love it. Three cheers for our practical prophet! He lived a good life.

You Can Pick Your Friends, And You Can Pick Your Nose

But you can't pick the Republican Presidential Candidate's Nose. Am I right? Tonight I have dedicated to [blogging about books] and choosing my candidate. I started by taking this test:

Washington Post Choose Your Candidate Quiz

...and will end by going to the hot tub. I can't decide yet so I'm extending "Pick My Nominee" ('s Nose) into tomorrow night....and beyond! Where does a girl go for answers in all the hubbub? Stay tuned to see where I research next and for all the answers to Election 2008. I can tell you right now Matt and Meredith are no help.

Recommended Reading

I've been spending many a Saturday cooped up inside while perfectly good weather rages outside. It is a hard life to fake like it's winter around here. But I do it well. (Just close the blinds, warm up some hot chocolate and get the mail in your shorts later.) There's nothing I love being cooped up with more than a good book. Here's one I just finished. I think everyone and their dog is reading it at the moment. So if you aren't, get your dog and go down to Barnes & Noble and join the club.

This book was written by a woman in angst. A woman lost in an emotional black hole. The first half almost made me twitch, she got me so wound into her web of divorce analogies and rancid anger. By India, tho, the woman has found peace and she can finally chill and live with herself. Phew. I mean, if you've gone through a divorce, I'm sure it's therapeutic reading about all the baggage that you have to carry afterwards. But for little ol' me, a sufferer of a few heartbreaks, some serious, some piddly, it just doesn't register. Thankfully it will never have to register because, if for no other reason, I will choose to stay married just so I don't have to go thru legally changing my name again. Thank you.

Anyway. In short. This book is great. It's a fun read even when the woman can't get a grasp on life. She has a clever sense of humor and it's a fun bit of armchair journey. She makes a strong case for choosing the good life and she is so right in saying, "I am a better person when I have less on my plate."

I was getting into the meat of this book the week Benazir Bhutto was killed. If not for reading this book I might have never been able to point out Islamabad on a map. Good for books! Good for books with maps! And yeehaw for fighting terrorism with education. That's the thesis of this book and, you know, I'd never thought of it that way. A simple solution, really, but it just might work. A simple solution being fought at every hand by Islamic extremists. Check me out sounding like I know what I'm talking about. That's what will happen to you if you read this book.

Crock-Pot of Crack

Crock-Pot Rules Broken during my first week of using one:
1. Started pot-o-chicken and herbs after work.
Outcome: A pungeant house and a greasy drumstick eaten in bed as I am falling asleep.

2. Started enchiladas after work, later this time with a longer cooking time, already forgetting that you're not supposed to start the Crock-Pot AFTER work.
Outcome: Adam sets alarm for midnight to put the just-finished enchiladas in the fridge for morning. Mmmm, enchilada breakfast.

2.a. Used flour tortillas instead of the corn ones recipe called for.
Outcome: Gluey, messy, cheesy glop. Convulsions as I eat it for breakfast.

3. Let Crock-Pot stink up house and go to a church meeting smelling like onions.
Outcome: Someone in the meeting says, "Mmmm, smells like dinner."

4. Couldn't find canned great northern beans, so I bought the bag.
Outcome: Delayed soup til next day so beans could soak all night.

5. Nearly severing cord while trying to rig up outside Crock-Pot cooking day AND locking my sliding door.
Outcome: Much frustration with Adam for thinking that Irvine is not safe enough to leave your well-fenced off sliding door unlocked for just one stinking day. Also, late for work.

6. Cooking mushrooms beforehand, thinking they went with the pot roast while cooking...but another Crock-Pot recipe SURPRISE: they go in AFTER.
Outcome: A really good mushroomy sauce but a tough roast. Which had nothing to do with pre-cooking the mushrooms. Oh, also: gloopy mashed potatoes.

7. Burying the Crock-Pot in my backyard.
Outcome: Realizing I don't have a backyard, so asking around for a willing backyard.

A New Day...and A Look Back

Since all 2007 left me were dashed hopes for seeing Celine Dion's A New Day show in Vegas, 2008 looked bleak. That is! Until I proposed a new Ware family tradition. Our first, I might add. Watching the sun rise on New Year's Day. Since Adam and I are not nightowls, this is a great tradition for us. We woke up at the usual 6 am, drove down the empty tree-lined streets of Irvine and parked in a lot next to a big empty wilderness (with lots of million dollar homes nestled in the interior and a big gate blocking us from entry except by foot.)

I gathered the baseball blanket around my shoulders and we ascended up the paved path. At the top of the path we decided the best view would be atop the non-paved hill. We busted out some early-morning attitude and walked all over the bare land. Bare land does not come around often here, (and if it does you'll be cited for walking on it - which we would have been if The Irvine Co. were awake at that hour) so I took in all the sagebrush smell I could.

We talked about the Iowa caucuses (what is that word? caucus?) and who we want to vote for (we still don't know). And why does Iowa get to decide which way the election goes so early on anyway? (Maybe because they are more decisive than the rest of the country.) I wished I had spent more time the night before looking for the thermos so we could have started the New Year out right with some of Aunt Karen's hot chocolate. But as I said before, not a nightowl, and when 11 pm comes around no thermos stands in the way of my sleep.

We left a little before the sun actually came above the hill in front of us because Adam had to go to work, and I had to get home for some lounging. I spent some of that lounge time looking back through my journal and discovered - surprise - 2007 was a really great year! I didn't remember half the things I had written, and that is precisely why I keep a journal. Because I can't remember anything that happens past last week.

So without further ado, I bring you What Happened to the Wares 2007:

January. We are in our 6 (hundredth it feels like) month living in Vista, CA. We watched An Inconvenient Truth and caught wind of this new phrase whipping around the swiftly melting glaciers of the earth: Go Green. We are inspired (more on that later) but then get a second car (in July) just to make sure we're both emitting equal amounts of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. That's what carbon neutral means, right?

Well it's not July yet and Adam is still biking 10 miles to work and 10 miles home from work. In January. And it's cold. But not that cold. But colder than I thought because also in January I joined the San Diego Bike Club one frigid morning on a 17 (I think - but didn't write it down so I'm really not sure) mile ride around La Jolla (including up Face Melter mountain). Someone in the club asked if I was coming back next week. Do you THINK I'm coming back? Do you SEE how red my face is right now? I can't feel my hands and NO I'm not coming back.

Also in January, Haven, my niece, is born to my sister Heather. The girl is cute. And she's almost one!

February. Nothing much here. Work is stressful, I'm teaching the Laurels in Young Womens. My cousin Carrie visits and we enjoy Hollywood and Santa Monica together with our husbands. We both married great guys.

March. I spend my birthday in Utah because Haven is being blessed in Logan and I can't think of another child who I'd rather be overshadowed by on my birthday than Haven.

I join the company softball team while Adam ensues studying for the CPA exam.

April. Adam and I celebrate our one year anniversary in Del Mar. I experience my first official ward offense and decide to just get over it. My brother Roger and his bustling little family visit and Adam and I have the privilege of tending two bustliest of the bunch and decide to postpone having a family till after death.

May. After several thousand attempts at getting all the right documents to travel to a foreign country with my married name on them (retarded idea), Adam and I go to Brazil. We have some very hospitable friends there who dropped everything to hang out with us. My favorite part was a town called Paraty where we stayed in a little cottage straight out of Goldilocks and the Three Bears and ate the most amazing fruit, cheese, bread - everything - breakfasts.

June. We start apartment shopping in Irvine because Adam now has two choices because of the depressing state of the housing market (he works for a homebuilder): one - get laid off; two - move to Irvine. He likes the company, so we move to Irvine and pay a lot more for rent.

July. I go to Girl's Camp with the Young Women in a remote desert by Ridgecrest. I can't believe we drove that far. But it is worth it because we rafted and swam in a river the whole time! So fun. Ok July is when we officially moved, and I quit my job as a copywriter for an Internet marketing company. I don't think I will have a boss quite like that one again - a former rocker with an affinity for the F-word - very entertaining.

We visit Lake Powell with Adam's family and since I am jobless, I take a break and keep on traveling.

August. Went to North Carolina to see my sister Heather and that adorable Haven again. My parents also come and we have the BEST time. I ate collard greens, sweet patata pie and something else I can't remember at the moment. Back in California I am interviewing and crossing my fingers for a PR job.

September. I try to get my Calif. driver's license with my married name on it (changing your name is so retarded!) My cousin Carrie announces her pregnancy and I get the PERFECT PR job in the world. It is still perfect, I love it to death.

October. California lights up with all sorts of fires and I am extremely alarmed and pack my bags, certain I am facing my death. We catch the next plane out of the smoke to head to Colorado to try our luck at getting World Series tickets. No such luck, but it is ok because watching it at home was just as fun (and slightly less? depressing because the Rockies lost horribly.)

November. I have just cut my hair shorter than ever before and my little brother Owen gets a sweet mission call to India. My family comes to Irvine for Thanksgiving and Owen goes thru the temple for the first time.

December. I'm overdue for a break after making a turkey that weighs twice as much as me. I am sad that it doesn't snow here. And then we go to Denver and I am very happy because the snow does not stop.

And now - tadahhh - January 2008. You know what this means. New Year's Resolutions. I never make them but this year I will make four. Ready?

1. Go Green - Babysteps Version. Since we aren't getting rid of our second car just yet, I have decided to buy canvas grocery bags and ask my apartment complex why they don't offer recycling. It's the least I can do for this earth.

2. Read 3 Hard Classics. So far I know I want to read War and Peace. Does anyone have any other suggestions?

3. Daily Scripture Study with Adam. We did well last year with the D & C because our Stake demanded it and gave us a bookmark to help. This year we don't have any Stake guidance, so we made our own bookmark and will be studying one or two topics per week. If you want the bookmark, tell me so in the comments and I'll send it to you.

4. Remember Birthdays (and do something about it). I am already behind because my dad's b-day is on Friday and I haven't sent anything. Dang it.

Happy New Year everyone.

Christmas in Denver

Feeling Festive

It's finally feeling like holiday central. Friday night was finish all Christmas shopping once and for all. (I was super proud of myself until I realized Christmas is next week and I had come nowhere near close to my goal of finishing before Dec. 1.)

Saturday night was my company holiday party at this nice little patio bistro. It was so fun to meet all the significant others and pity dates. I saw a new side of everyone which was so refreshing. I wore my new berry-bunch earrings with a mulberry top and brown skirt. (Also the same night as the ward Christmas party where Adam would have had to play Santa Clause. Ho, ho, ho!)

Sunday was finish wrapping all Christmas presents and shove them in the corner under our lamp, which acts as this year's Christmas tree. (I have no qualms about having zero decorations in my house. That will come in due time. Besides, it's never really Christmas in California. No snow = no Christmas.) Sunday night was also dinner at a friend's and gingerbread party at our house!

(Here's Adam opening Aunt Karen's generous gift the other day. Thanks Aunt Karen, aka Devoted Warehouse Blog Reader)Here's our gingerbread house. Adam built the foundation. I topped it with a fish sky roof and made a pathway paved with chocolate. We call this "Born Again Christian House."
Proud owners of "Born Again Christian House." Will you take a look at the Frank Lloyd Wright-inspired graham cracker fountain on the left? Zoom in close if you have to. It is worth a look. Also featuring a backyard of pop rocks.The Heinrichs come to us with extensive experience in gingerbread house making. Ariana made a purple pool out of laffy taffy and a tree from licorice. Christian's house is mostly just see-through. But the fact that it is still standing means everything.

The Neves made "Dream Trailer." We made up a song about it and sang it. It's to the tune of "My Buddy." Sing along if you want: "Dream Trailer, Dream Trailer. Wherever I go...Yoooou go. Dream Trailer, Dream Trailer...where the real estate....depreciates. Dream Trailer, Dream Trailer. Dream Trailer and me! DREAM TRAILER!!!" Such an awesome song.

Merry Christmas, everyone! Next time, pictures from a place where real Christmas happens - aka LOTS of snow!

Angry Charity

Tonight was visting teaching double duty. I visit taught and got visit taught. All in under an hour. Ever been done? I think not. But it was brilliant. And it didn't make me angry at all.

Last night, however, was a different story. I planned to make poppy seed bread for all the co-workers. Mostly Adam's co-workers because I'm sticking to my one secret Santa. I bought the poppy seeds at Food4Less for $1. I got home. No poppy seeds. I KNOW I bought poppy seeds. I looked everywhere and then re-looked everywhere. No poppy seeds. Nowhere in tarnation are the poppy seeds. At this point I am thinking about all alternative recipes that would look nice as a little loaf with tissue paper on top. I bought the wrong butter for lemon bread. In fact I bought the wrong butter for everything. And spaghetti likely wouldn't hold its shape.

At this point I am whining very much because I will do anything at all times and in all places to avoid going to the grocery store. Especially when I am wearing my blue bathrobe with blue slippers and black work socks and am feeling oh-so cozy. But the crap clouds just dumped down upon me and I switched my bathrobe for my yellow jacket. Now I am a sporty-yellow jacketed, blue girls camp t-shirted, plaid pj panted, blue granny slippered, black work socked angered do-gooder. All I wanted to do was make bread for people and now I want to hurt those people.

So I went to the super close, super expensive store that eeks me out everytime. Not because of the luxurious beauty that is wide aisles and flattering lighting, but because of the ludicrous prices. A little place called Albertson's. Where the poppy seeds cost $5. Seriously. Same bottle, different brand, jacked up price.

I came angry, I left angry. And went home and made some pretty amazing poppy seed bread. But I was still angry. And that's when I read the visiting teaching message which I had to preach today. Charity. Pure love. Not just acts but a state of being. I am so far from it but there is hope because little acts add up to being. Get it? I don't got it, but maybe if I make some more poppy seed bread...

Wild Pie

A few recommendations of media goodness. It was only 5 days ago that I realized I could watch DVDs on Adam's laptop while he studied for the CPA on our desktop. Where have I BEEN? All these months of entertaining myself with cooking, baking, laundry, reading, blogging, and walking the streets aimlessly while he's slaving for our future. And all this time I could have been watching chick flicks?! Now I'm annoyed that he'll be done in a few months.

Anyway, here's the first flick I watched. Waitress. SO worthwhile. Makes you thankful for your husband who slaves for your future and doesn't slobber. A strange twist after the movie was finished makes it all the more fascinating and moving. Its director (who plays Dawn in the movie) was murdered after she finished filming it. No, not in the movie. In real life. I remember reading about it last year. Very tragic and truly sad, kind of like the movie, but without a second chance... This is a movie I did not watch but really, really want to. I read the book instead and it was almost life altering. I tried to buck the system while I was in the throes of page-turning, but I couldn't really quit work, don't want to leave my husband and can't carry a 40 lb pack. I also have no tolerance for the cold and buses don't have seatbelts so there's no way I'd feel safe out there. But I like the kid's bad attitude and his distaste for materialism. I'm with him there. The book also cites some really interesting side stories of people like Chris McCandless who try to live off the land, using nothing manmade ever. One man does it for years and years and years and finally declares, "It can't be done." Poignant.

Anyway, I recommend both of these. I kind of like the idea of them mixed together. Adventure in the Wild But Forgot A Map so I Die Pie.