It's just a hobby

#23- List your top 5 hobbies and why you love them.


I am a dabbler in many things, a master of none.  I think, however, that I can come up with 5 hobbies.

1. Cooking: I like to cook.  It soothes me. I like to try at least one new recipe a week. Pinterest has been my downfall on this one...

2. Needle crafts (knitting, sewing, crocheting, stitchery, quilting, etc): My mom got me started sewing quilts at a young age, and I've loved that ever since.  I learned to crochet in college, I learned to knit last year, and I've been stitching for awhile.  I love the "mindlessness" of these hobbies, I can just let my hands go while my mind wanders elsewhere.

3. Photography: I do this one purely because I love to.  I like having nice pictures of things and people I love.

4. Reading: There is nothing in this world that quite equals curling up with a good book. It is an escape for the heart, mind, and soul.

5. Writing: I don't do this one nearly often enough anymore, but someday I would like to write a book.  Someday...

Futurama

#22- Where do you see yourself in 5 years? 10 years? 15 years?

5 years: It will be 2017.  I will be 32, Greasemonkey will be almost 38, and T-Bone will be 6. I'll hopefully be finished with my Bachelor's Degree by then. I'd love to be working in the OR, but it's a tough place to find an in. I'd love to have one or 2 more kids by then, since T-Bone will be getting ready to start 1st grade (holy cow!). We'll probably still be living in our same house, but I'll definitely be driving a bigger car.

10 years: It will be 2022. I will be 37, Greasemonkey will be pusing 43, and T-Bone will be 11. (Just to put a little bit of perspective on 10 years: I was getting ready to start my Senior year of high school 10 years ago).  I'd like to be out of floor nursing by then, hopefully working for an insurance company, workman's comp, etc. I'd like to be done having kids, possibly with a few of my own and a few adopted.  I've always wanted to adopt a couple of kids, I feel like there are a lot of kids out there that need good homes, and if I can provide that for them, I should. Anyway, chances are pretty good we'll still be living in our same house, but hopefully there will be some young families in the ward by then. Although, ten years from now we won't be such a young family anymore.

15 years: It will be 2027. I will be 42, Greasemonkey will be knocking on the door of 48, and T-Bone will be 16 (my baby will be driving!).  If I stay with IHC, I will have been with the company for 22 years at this point. That'd be pretty cool. Hopefully by this point Greasemonkey will be managing his own branch of MotoStation.  My kids should all be in all-day school at this point, so I'd love to go back to school for my Master's Degree.  It would be pretty awesome to be able to teach Nursing, I'd even love to just lead clinicals. Let's not lie, we'll probably still be in our same house in the same old neighborhood. It is a good place to raise a family and teenagers, after all. Oh, and I'll probably still be driving the car from the 5 year mark.

Super

21. If you could have one super power, what would it be and what would you do with it first?

I've been thinking on this one for quite awhile.  I've been trying to figure out what it would actually be.  The power of invisibility would be pretty cool. Flying would be pretty awesome as well. Honestly, though, I think that the best superpower would be, wait for it... the power to apparate.  

Think about it: the ability to transport yourself (and anyone holding onto you) anywhere you want to go. 

Dinner in Paris? Done.
Shopping and a Broadway show in New York? No problem. 

A day at Disneyworld and Harry Potter Land?  Bring it on.

Seriously, best. Superpower. Ever. 

Oh, and as for what I'd do with it first: let's not lie, I'd take Greasemonkey to Disneyland for our anniversary.  He hasn't been in 25 years, after all.

The one where I might insult people...

Ok, deep breaths.  You can do this, Annabelle, you can do this. I've been mulling this idea over, chewing on it, trying to decide if I'm brave enough to actually write this post. I can't stop myself. I so strongly feel the need to speak up on a subject that has been niggling at me for awhile now.

Kids, friends, lovely readers, it's time to talk 50 Shades of Grey. 

Now, I will state right up front that I have not read the books, nor do I ever intend to read the books. I'm basing this purely on what I have read about them, heard about them from others, and reactions I've seen across America lately. I, however, can't in good conscience keep my mouth shut on this one. 

I fully admit that I have read my fair share of trashy romance novels. I'll even go so far as to say that there was a time in my life that I was addicted to them. I will also fully admit that they gave me false ideas of what love, sex, and intimacy are like.  They did not prepare me for real relationships, and in fact, probably hindered me. It took me quite a long time to realign my reality with my imagined perception.

Anyway, back to my point.  50 Shades goes above and beyond the typical "romance" category.  Here is the synopsis from GoodReads:

"When literature student Anastasia Steele is drafted to interview the successful young entrepreneur Christian Grey for her campus magazine, she finds him attractive, enigmatic and intimidating. Convinced their meeting went badly, she tries to put Grey out of her mind - until he happens to turn up at the out-of-town hardware store where she works part-time.

The unworldly, innocent Ana is shocked to realize she wants this man, and when he warns her to keep her distance it only makes her more desperate to get close to him. Unable to resist Ana’s quiet beauty, wit, and independent spirit, Grey admits he wants her - but on his own terms.

Shocked yet thrilled by Grey's singular erotic tastes, Ana hesitates. For all the trappings of success – his multinational businesses, his vast wealth, his loving adoptive family – Grey is a man tormented by demons and consumed by the need to control. When the couple embarks on a passionate, physical and daring affair, Ana learns more about her own dark desires, as well as the Christian Grey hidden away from public scrutiny.

Can their relationship transcend physical passion? Will Ana find it in herself to submit to the self-indulgent Master? And if she does, will she still love what she finds?

Erotic, amusing, and deeply moving, the Fifty Shades Trilogy is a tale that will obsess you, possess you, and stay with you forever."

First, a little background on the book: it was written as a fan-fic of Twilight.  That's right, the characters of Ana and Christian are based on Edward and Bella.  It was originally published as a web-only story, then split into 3 books and virally marketed. Ok, I can deal with that.  What I can't deal with is the subject matter.  I'm not an idiot, and I wasn't born yesterday.  I know that erotic literature exists in the world.  I know that there are BDSM relationships out there.  I know that some people love that kind of thing. 

I don't understand the mommy community's fascination, and obsession, with it.  Some statistics are showing that the book's biggest fan-base is married women over 30.  It has even been dubbed "mommy porn".  It is a scientifically proven fact that men are aroused and excited by visual images, pictures, etc. Women are excited and aroused by words, actions, and the like.  I balk at the idea of reading this book.  When people hear me say that, they often ask me why.  My response?  I would be devastated if my husband looked at porn, why would it be ok for me to stimulate myself in the same way.  Pornography is not acceptable in my house, no matter who is looking at it. I was appalled to see this sitting open-stocked on a table at Costco yesterday. That means it was in full reading view of anyone who decided to pick it up, whether that be our young teenage daughters, our impressionable children, or whoever.

So, why has the popularity of this series exploded?  Why are wives, mothers, and daughters everywhere accepting this smut into their lives, their minds, and their souls?  Why is there a double standard? Are we really so sexually deprived as women that we feel the need to turn to erotica?

There's a chance I will lose some of you over this post, but I just couldn't keep it in any longer.  If you have read the series, would you mind giving me your reasons as to why you liked it?  I, for one, am choosing to not follow the crowd.  I will stand firm in my conviction to keep my mind free from the degrading influence of pornography.  

You are Special!

When I was growing up my mom had this really cool thing.  It looked like this:

Anytime one of us had a birthday, brought home a straight A report card, or did something really cool, we got to eat dinner on the "You are Special" plate. It was a pretty big honor. 

Well, I decided awhile back that I wanted to get one of these plates to use with my own kids.  My search began. I discovered that it is made by a company called Waechtersbach, and they are almost 100% out of stock... everywhere.  Anytime I could find one it was expensive. Like, really expensive.  I wasn't about to drop $50 on one plate.  Not. Going. To. Happen. 

So, I started looking for ways I could do this on a budget. That's when I stumbled upon this tutorial on Pinterest.  I was overjoyed.  Seriously, T-Bone and I did a little happy dance. He didn't know why we were dancing, but joined me in the jig anyway.  Anyway, back to my story.  I mulled the idea over a bit.  Tried to think of some ideas for how to decorate it.  And then I finally took the plunge.  I was at the black hole, otherwise known as Target, this week when I saw a square white porcelain plate.  Score!  I have square dishes.  I ran over to the office supply section and grabbed a pack of Sharpies (lame that I didn't have them on hand, I know), and tossed it all in the cart.  And then it proceeded to sit in my craft room for a week.  Well, tonight I finally took the plunge and decorated my "special" plate. I decided to keep it simple, and I think that paid off:

Do you know why they named it Yellowstone?

Cause I do!  Anyway, I'm a little late on this post, but the first weekend in June we took a family trip to Yellowstone.  I'd never been before, and it had been a long time since Greasemonkey had been. I was a little worried about how T-Bone would deal with all that time in the car, but he handled it like a total champ.  We stayed in a cool little cabin in Island Park.  It had the makings of a disaster with only one shower for 14 people, but it wasn't bad at all.
We had a good time catching bugs, getting eaten by bugs, looking at animals, and taking little mini-hikes. We let T-Bone take a little dip in the river, but he wasn't a huge fan of that.  Then the river claimed his favorite turtle hat.  That was a sad moment.
We saw some awesome animals, ate good food, played some cards, and had a lot of laughs.  All in all, a successful trip.  And now, some pictures:

 NERTS!

 At Mesa Falls

 Catching some bugs

 The cutest dang thing in the whole world: T-Bone signing "boat" while sitting in a boat.

 Bye-bye hat!

 Ready to roll

 Buffalo!

Waiting for Old Faithful in the snow

Memoir

I promise, there is a Yellowstone post in the works.  In the meantime, we'll carry on with the list:

#20- Describe 3 significant memories from your childhood.

"Pat your tummy with a pat, pat, patty-pat, patty-patty-pat-pat-poo."  I'm pretty sure that was the song that was playing when the event occurred.  But, I get ahead of myself.  Let me set the scene: a long time ago my grandparents lived in a big house in Holladay. If you went up the million stairs and were brave enough to run past the witch that lived in the computer room at the top of the stairs (seriously, a room FULL of computers), you would reach the small apartment over their garage. Our parents would often send us up there to play while they did parent stuff downstairs. Well, one day (probably a Sunday, that's when we usually all went to visit) there were a bunch of the cousins playing up there.  Our parents had set us up with some toys, the Sesame Street record, and told us to have a good time.  One of us, I don't remember who, decided that we needed to explore what was inside the beanbag that was up there.  So, we unzipped the zipper, and were so excited to find little foam pellets in there.  We had a blast throwing them at each other, jumping in the bag to make them poof everywhere, and just making a general mess. Probably stunned that none of us had some down to tattle in awhile, one of the parents came up to investigate. What they found was a snowstorm of foam beanbag filling.  They wanted to be angry, you could see it in their faces, but they were too amused.  They dragged the shopvac up the stairs, put us in a line, and vacuumed us off one by one as they sent us out the door.

My family used to have the most wicked car ever.  Seriously.  I'm not even kidding.  It was an old (I use the term "old" relatively, I think it was from the 80's), diesel Suburban. It was rad. The middle bench seat folded down completely so there was an enormous amount of space between the back seat and the front seats.  Well, one day my sister and I were playing barbies, and probably getting underfoot of my mom, so she asked us to take the barbies somewhere else to play.  We got the brilliant idea to take them out to the Suburban.  We folded down the middle seats, hauled all of our crap into the back of the car, and proceeded to play barbies back there for hours.  It was a dang good time.  F'reals.

Once upon a time I was the only girl in a primary class with 5 boys.  There were other girls my age, but they were all born the year before me, so they ended up in the class ahead of mine, but I digress.  One day we were all sitting in class like good little children (ha!) when someone noticed a fly buzzing around.  Let me tell you, a fly is incredibly distracting to a room full of 8 year old boys. Anyway, one kid decided he was going to take it upon himself to do away with the fly.  He spent several minutes tracking it and trying to kill it.  Finally, it landed on the window.  This kid, we'll call him Karl (that is his name, after all), crept up on the fly, slowly raised his fist into the air, and then BLAM!!!  He got the fly.  He also ended up putting his fist through the window.  True story.