Blowing Up the Kitchen

One of the first things that attracted me to Sel was not only that he was an AMAZING cook, but that he loved it. He had/has such a classy taste and he loves fruits and vegetables which are the two food groups I love more than anything. The past 8 months of Warden cooking have been more fantastic than I could ever imagine. Sel is always complimentary even if it certainly isn't the best. See, I was always shooed out of the kitchen whenever I picked up a pan because there was a 99.6% chance I would blow up our entire house (luckily I only blew up the microwave once...right, mom?) BUT I have become so much better. I no longer only make soup and steamed vegetables.

This is what our kitchen table looks like after we go grocery shopping (which happens to be one of our favorite things to do) Yeah for Winco!!!

We recently tried this: Dragon Fruit. We didn't particularly love it. It tastes like a bland kiwi, but it certainly looks amazing.

Two of my more recent dinners were homemade corn tortillas with red lentils, "spanish rice"-I made some homemade salsa and cooked it in with the rice (Sel's idea), peppers, and fat-free plain yogurt with chili powder, lime juice, and paprika for seasoning.

It got put on our favorite recipe list

The other recent recipe was vegetarian lasagna. I loved the recipe, but Sel wasn't too keen to add it. The recipe called for lemon zest and nutmeg which made the lasagna more tangy than typical recipes. Sel thought it tasted like Tutti Fruti's :)

spinach with ricotta cheese & nutmeg

homemade tomato sauce with carrots, mushrooms, green and red peppers, and the yellow stuff is the lemon zest

An Ode to the Deceased: The Beast

The week of awfulness has passed and I have officially conquered the mangy stomach flu bug who invaded my body. A big thank you to my lymphocytes for all their hard work.

Now on to a very grievous subject. The death of a beloved companion.

My younger sister was involved in a car accident this weekend where she wrapped this beloved friend of mine around a tree. She, my sister, is completely fine other than a broken shoulder and a new found desire to STOP thinking twenty over the speed limit is a must. A hero has left our midst though and left an awful, black box shaped space behind him.

The Fallen Hero

The young girl he saved

The Beast came to our family 12 years ago. He was shiny and white and full of promising adventure. I loved him from the moment he rolled into our garage. My senior year of high school, Beasty Boy became my designated school vehicle. Sure he wasn't a shiny mercedes or BMW, but he knew how to get me to the places I needed to be. I was proud to call him my own (even though he technically was not mine...)

My trusty stead loaded up all my belongings at the end of high school and safely escorted Poptart and I to good ole Utah.

We shared a tearful goodbye as he wished me well at college and promised to keep an eye on my family for me.

Then the unthinkable happened. Beast came back into my life in a big way. He came all the way form Michigan to guide me through the next two years of adventures.

The Geo, the beloved blue companion who escorted me in the Beast's absence

Beast took me to the ends of the earth to cross-country ski

Beast loved my friends

Beast drove for me when Lys and I decided posing for pictures was more pertinent

Beast helped me kidnap cultured humans

Beast helped me fight my battles (and win them)

Beast protected my loved ones and I from wild animals when we went camping

Beast reassured me I looked like Scary Spice even though I wasn't black. Essentially, Beast was not a racist. It is hard nowadays to find a car that isn't racist

Beast was there when I met Sel. Beast was there when I wanted to talk to him about Sel when everyone else was tired of hearing me talk about how fantastic he was.

The most amazing part of Beast's character though and the reason we now mourn is that Beast was a protector. Sure he shook like an old man when he ricocheted down the freeway. Sure it cost two weeks of human food to feed his automobile nutritional needs. Sure he still somehow smelled of my dirty running shoes. BUT Beast saved my little sister. Beast saved me from being forever trapped in P-town. Beast saved the world if you really think about it.

Beast will live forever in infamy. My family and I will be holding an honorary service for this cherished piece of metal June 2, 2012.

May the impact the Beast had on you (and the tree) inspire you to be just a little bit better today.

Thank you for all your support at this time

Contagion

It is 2:30AM and I cannot sleep. Today has been one of the most miserable in my entire life. From throwing up to having a fever of 103, I haven’t been this sick in years. I have been delirious for most of the day and spent it texting and calling people about nonsensical things. Sel has been the most amazing caretaker in the entire world. He made me jell-o (which I am currently trying to force down), he carried my limp, pitiful body back and forth from the bathroom. He added blanket upon blanket as I sobbed about how freezing I was. He also forced me to drink a Powerade from my little sippy cup which was awful, but I think helpful on my road to recovery. He and my kind brother-in-law gave me a blessing. Sel put a heating pad on my side of the bed so when he managed to carry me like a stork to bed, it was nice and toasty. He has been trying to study for a big test he is taking on Thursday and has been SO patient with my absolutely pathetic self. My wish for death has become slightly lessened, but is still there whenever I try to move my aching limbs. Death come swiftly, death come quick. I spent 1:30-now crawling around our house wondering where I was and why Aragorn was telling me to "Fight back!". Poor Sel has been trying to sleep and trying to make sure I don't do something destructive. If you see that sweet boy today on campus, you should give him a BIG hug for me because my highly contagious self cannot :(

The Welsh Irishman's Holiday

St. Patrick's Day is one of the supreme deities in terms of holidays. It is the one holiday where wearing obscene amounts of green is not only permitted, but mandatory in order to avoid being pinched. I started off this holy holiday by running the Rex Lee 5K with none other than Ohio(one of the coolest girls you shall ever meet. Don't bother asking me her real name. Her publicist made me sign a contract to never reveal it so she wouldn't acquire countless stalkers who would restrict her and her husband's busy lives) Ohio and I both, unplanned, rocked some bright green eye shadow for the race which was ideal for our award ceremony (we tied for first in the 5K and 10K actually).

St. Patty's also involved Sel's traditional meal of green spaghetti (in this case linguini) along with a cucumber & avocado salad, nasty looking, yet delicious green strawberry lemonade, and green banana cream pudding with sprinkles of course.

We then invited a banjo playing leprechaun, Pam, (who made his debut here ) and his charming friend, Disney.

Pam and Sel have had an ongoing joke about how Game Hen sounds a lot like Gay Men. While Sel and I were holding up Winco the other day, we saw some adorable game hens that we just knew Pam would want to eat up possibly with green food items.

The game hen that spewed out green mashed potatoes

(Green Bread with green honey & butter)

The eating party

After some Irish jigs, Disney & Pam gave said beannacht and left Sel and I to our plotting.

(Sel & I plotting...it's a beautiful thing as our faces so indicate)

We plotted to find a suitable place to bury our pot of gold. So I dressed up in our leprechaun gear and we headed out to follow the rainbow. We pretty much walked to our different friends houses, rang the door bell, threw rainbow confetti at their face, and ran away while leaving some green colored bread as a memoir of their new favorite holiday experience.

Happy St. Patrick's Day All!

King of Hearts

I know this is far overdue, but since yesterday was honoring a Saint I figured I could still honor the Saint of last month. Good ole St. Valentine.

Sel is astounding for all who haven't caught on yet. He also happens to be one romantic chap with stealthy sup rising skills.

On February 14th, I woke up and made some awful tasting pancakes that I disguised to look appetizing with strawberry and banana hearts. Sel was very kind and pretended like he enjoyed the carcinogenic morsels I presented him with. I also heart attacked our living room for him and crafted some homemade valentines. Nothing too fancy, but I was hoping it was helping Sel get an idea of how much I love him.

Since it was a crazy school day for Sel, I really wasn't expecting him to be able to do a whole lot. What a fool I am! That boy is the most considerate, sweet, and loving human I have ever met. After coming home from a fun, yet exhausting day, I opened the door to this

Sel had rearranged the heart attack to a beautiful candle lit path to the bedroom.

On the bed was this beautiful bouquet, emerald earrings, the most fabulous tacky light up heart thing Sel bought at K-mart, and of course, Chocolate :) The whole Valentines Day typicals wrapped into one completely perfect and heartfelt idea.

Yup, I married the best one there is.

Hope you enjoyed the mush!

After College

Sel and I are both currently working on our hoop jumping skills. False: We are not practicing for church basketball season. False: We are not fulfilling our dreams of joining the circus...yet. True: We are trying to look like the fanciest poodles in the arena for those menacing medical/grad school judge panel. (Note- I have always kind of dreamed of dying poodles pastel colors for Easter and having them deliver me cadbury eggs and jolly rancher jelly beans in a basket..)

Here are some of the things I have been noticing.

1. Getting into medical school is infinitely more difficult than getting into any other graduate program I have ever heard of. That poor boy has a lot on his shoulders, BUT those shoulders are some of the most capable, sturdy, fun to ride atop of shoulders I have ever known. Not worried in the slightest about Sel impressing the judges. He kind of impresses everyone with his brilliance (and charming little boy smile)

2. I should have gone to BYU-I. Yes, it is a frigid wasteland of seeming death, BUT it has gloriously small class sizes. One of the most important things for both Med/OT school are letters of recommendation. With BYU's typical science classes of 300 plus, being B.F.F.'s with your prof is not happening anytime soon. Even in the upper level classes Sel and I am are in currently, it is so dang hard to get to know your professors. Especially if you have a billion things to do that going into an office hour or two is requiring you to call a bunch of humans and explain you won't be able to make it to your usual appointment. Do I wish I was super tight with my profs? Heck to the yes. Not just for letters of recommendation, but because I genuinely would love to hear all about their wonderful, brilliant, quirky lives.

3. OT School + Med School = Poor. Yes, I know taking out student loans is expected and they get paid off one way or another. The daunting thing is though precisely how much that entails. My very bright mom-in-law said we should look at it as an investment, but I sometimes wonder if I would actually want to invest in me. I definitely would invest in Sel over and over again, but come on...I should be studying for my two quizzes tomorrow and am instead blogging about how worried I am at succeeding at life. Elle Stock's are going at 1 Rupee right now.

4. Studying for the GRE while trying to balance school, work, saving the world from man eating dolls, volunteering, and normal bodily maintenance things (showering, eating, sleeping) is really, REALLY not happening. As in I have studied a grand total of twenty pages.

5. Figuring out what to do with yourself for a year in P-town while Sel finishes school is not particularly exciting. Mostly I just worry about whether or not I will become the college graduate working at Mickey Dee's. (No Offense lil sis. That was a very respectable occupation when you were 16)

6. The only thing really motivating me to continue to raise my violet died fluffy body through flaming hoops of impossibility is the idea that I might someday be an actual OT. I might actually be a fetching Professor of OT. Dr. Elle. I would, of course, require any and all of our future offspring to refer to me as Dr. I might actually be able to get paid to teach a stroke victim how to eat again or play with four-year-olds on a trampoline all day. I could hang out with my friends at the mental hospital all day while we make dream catchers. Who wouldn't want to get paid to play with people you know you are going to love?

Ugh. Anybody else feeling like they would rather drink shots of arsenic tainted cough syrup than do all of these fun application items?