Long Time No Blog

It's not that nothing's happening or that nothing is funny. On the contrary, so much is happening, we don't have time to write about it.

Sammie and I went to Pennsylvania over Labor Day weekend. On Saturday, we went to a Penn State football game at Beaver Stadium--during hurricane Ernesto. It had been downgraded to Tropical Storm Ernesto, but that doesn't have quite the same ring to it. We stayed with my wonderful friend from grad school, Maggie, her husband, their two cats, and the baby in Maggie's tummy.

After we got home, I racked my brains trying to figure out how to describe Monday without being crude. I couldn't figure it out, so I never wrote about it. Our friends Jeremy and Heather met us at Hershey and then we went to Lancaster County to see Amish Country. Those of you who have been there know what's coming next. One of the most popular communities up there, and the one where we spent most of the day, is called Intercourse. No. That wasn't a typo. Just try to imagine the jokes that were made that day.

Sammie: "Hey Melba, I'll give you $50 if you call anyone in your family and tell them we're in the middle of Intercourse."

Sammie: "I need to fill up my car."
Jeremy: "Okay. Sammie's getting gas in the middle of Intercourse."

Sammie: "We need a picture of you guys to put on our blog."
Jeremy: "Yeah, the caption could say, 'These are the friends we enjoyed Intercourse with.'"

Heather and I pretended to be disgusted. But we actually thought it was pretty funny. And crude.

15 minutes of fame

They say everyone gets 15 minutes of fame. Sammie didn't quite use his up in LA, so he turned to pork chops--hoping to garner some more. Check out the photo.

If you click on the picture, you'll see "Photography Notes" about the picture.

Last night after learning that Carrie is having a girl, Melba and I started talking about the Kaelberers and how much Lindsay wants a girl.

"But if it's a boy," Melba said, "I really, really think we can convice the Kaelberers to give us Dude."

Losers

Why did I leave LA? Because I didn't want to associate myself with the losers in their 50's making fools of themselves (thinking they are cool) to earn money. LA has tons of them. Not to mention losers in their 40's, 30's, 20's -- you get the idea. Example? Have a look at this. You'd have an easier time not laughing at Who's on First.

Oh, and btw, 'The Hoff' isn't making as big a fool of himself as other people I've seen. It's just that these other people were so bad they can't even make it onto Google Video...

I challenge anyone (who appreciates humor) to watch all 6 min and 9 sec of this video and not crack a smile. It cannot be done. I've tried hundreds of times and sooner or later I always end up laughing.

We Have a New Nephew!!

OK, technically he's not our nephew. More our cousin once removed. But who's going to get that technical? He's the son of my cousin Drew and his wife Janie. His name is William McKay Nelson and you can meet him, see pictures, and enjoy his parents' sense of humor at their blog.

Speaking of new babies, two of my sisters are expecting! What's even better, they're expecting within a week of each other in January. Last night, Sammie almost made one of them, Carrie, go into labor over the phone. We called her to wish her a happy birthday and Sammie also congratulated her on her upcoming "litter." With a very active (and adorable) 2-year-old, Carrie almost went into shock thinking about having a whole litter of new babies.

We're still refining Sammie's social skills...

Melba Update...

Last night I went with the EQP to visit some new families in the ward. While driving around, he told me that on Wednesday his wife, Cherisse, went to Girls Camp for the day – the same Girls Camp where Melba has been all week. His wife told him that she hadn’t been there 30 seconds before Melba took her into a locked room to let her in on the plot Melba created to steal the mattresses from the other cabins.

So last night when Melba called I told her I had heard some stories about her at camp. Long pause. “What stories?”

“The mattresses.”

“What did you hear?”

I told her what I had heard and there was another long pause. “Sammie, that story isn’t totally true. Cherisse had been at camp for at least an hour before I told her about my plot to steal the mattresses.”

So proud.

Oh, and the plot was not only successful, but executed with military precision...

Refrigerator Magnets

Is it bad form to blog twice in a day? Or is it worse to brag about your husband on your blog?

Sammie mentioned that he took the GMAT. He didn't mention how well he did. We are very excited with the result! We're also humbly grateful for help from above as he prepared for and took the exam. While I won't disclose the actual score here, let's just say that the score has opened new doors rather than closed others.

Anyway. Sammie posted the printout of his score on the fridge. He used a very apt refrigerator magnet - "Lives! Get one." (Other Mary Engelbreit fans will recognize the saying.) This week, I added another magnet that I thought equally appropriate, also from Mary Engelbreit - "Don't let success go to your head."

Babbit!!

Last night we learned that Sammie's brother's wife, Carolyn, and her 4 kids are visiting from Houston. We drove to Springfield with Corinne to see them. (Great to see you guys, by the way!) Carolyn was staying with her parents, as was her sister and kids. Her cousin and kids were also visiting. The place overflowed with kids and was one huge, teeming party! Sammie and I don't get enough time with kids, so when we do, we kind of go crazy. Let's just say that by the time we left, the kids were so hyper I hate to think how long it took poor Carolyn to get them to bed.

Carolyn's youngest boy, Jacob, is just over a year old and terribly scared of women. Whenever Corinne or I talked to him, he hid his face in his mom's shoulder. But he LOVED Sammie! He wouldn't leave him alone the entire evening. At one point, he pulled out a book and started to read to Sammie. Actually, the "reading" initially conisisted of Jacob interrupting Sammie and Carolyn's conversation with repeated pats on Sammie's shoulder to get his attention. When Sammie would finally turn his head, Jacob would point to a picture of a rabbit on the page (always the same rabbit on the same page) and enthusiastically yell "Babbit!" After a few iterations of this exercise, Sammie informed Jacob, "I know! Babbit." But this information did not dampen Jacob's enthusiasm for pointing out the rabbit to Sammie.

Finally Sammie caught on.

He pointed to the picture of the rabbit and yelled, "Babbit!" with the same one-year-old enthusiasm as Jacob's (in a thirty-year-old, it has a different effect, though). He repeated this action until Jacob looked up at him and said, "I know! Babbit."

Carolyn and Dave's kids are wonderful. Sammie has been trying hard to convince me to move to Houston. Driving me to Springfield last night to visit his nieces and nephews may be his strongest argument yet.

Superheroes

Superheroes have not played a large part in my life thus far. I didn't read comic books as a kid. (They would have taken me away from Little House on the prairie.) I never fell over Niagara Falls and had Superman save me. As a matter of fact, I was too big of a wimp to do anything that Superman would have needed to save me from. (Now my sister Eliza is a different story...)

However, recently, superheroes have begun to enter my life. The Batman movie with Michael Keaton was pretty good. I really liked the two Spiderman movies. I refused to go see Fab Four and, instead, sent Sammie with a friend to go see it. Sammie already blogged about how much I loved X-men. Our most complicated scheduling issue this week is when to go see Superman. So--mostly through Hollywood--I'm starting to be a superhero fan.

But today, I found the superhero to end all superheroes. Watch out Super-, Bat-, Spider- and all you other "men" out there!

http://www.rescuerick.com/

OK, I've never posted twice in one day, but this post makes a grand total of 3 for the month of June, so I don't think I'm over-doing it here.

Last week I was filling in for a Facility Manger who was on vacation. Oh, were the people there ever demanding and needy and bossy and rude and childish and I almost had to take one guy to HR because he was such a pain. Needless to say, I came home with headaches daily. Well today I couldn't help but chuckle when their building got struck by lightning. Looks like I wasn't the only one displeased with their behavior...

Yes, it has been a while since the last post. Life has been busy. GMAT is done (YEAH!!!) and now we can move onto the fun of filling out applications.

Below I have copied and pasted what was sent to me in 2 emails from my mom. It may make you cry, but it has a happy ending. Not everyone has a brother who doubles as a real-life super hero-

Jeff and Laura and their girls leave today. We've had a fun visit. Thursday we were at the pool where we are moving, and a little girl was found face down. Jeff's brother in law, Chris, is a border patrol agent in Montana. He got to her first and pulled her out. He and Jeff did CPR for five minutes before they got a pulse and got her breathing on her own. (She had aspirated some stuff, so there were problems.) We think it's a miracle that those two, both very experienced with CPR, were at the pool at that time. (Private pool, no lifeguard.) Last night we got word that the little girl is out of intensive care, sitting up and eating macaroni and cheese on her own, recognizing everyone.

(I then asked where the parents were when all of this happened.)

The mother was with a friend and between them they had several children. They were getting everyone out of the pool when Jeff, his brother-in-law Chris, and three of Laura's sisters and their kids arrived. So, it was mayhem. I guess this little girl Abby, who turned 3 on Friday, decided she wasn't ready to leave, and she snuck away. Mandy saw her floating face down. Laura called for Jeff, and they all have said, independently, that Chris stood up and ran across the water to get to her. Jeff, being mortal, had to climb out of the pool and run around. Anyway, it was traumatic. Jeff said he's done CPR lots and lots of times, but it was to people with gunshot wounds to their chests or something like that, and this is the first time he's done CPR and the patient survived. Neither he nor Chris slept Thursday night. We could tell they were traumatized...
Ben and I were actually at the new house and we arrived just as Amy was taking all the kids from the pool. I basically sat on the grass and held crying kids and cried. No help in a crisis. But at that point we thought the little girl was dead. Ben was trying to console Abby's 5 year old brother. The fire engine and paramedics arrived within 5 minutes of the call, but Jeff and Chris had Abby breathing on her own by then.
Ok, enough of that. NO MORE DROWNINGS, OK?!!

Melba and I went to see X-Men 3 this past weekend. I don’t know how in the world I got her to come with me – but she did come willingly. About half way through the movie she gave me the ‘I’m really embarrassed with myself’ look and said, “Sammie, I really like this film. I think I like it better than The Da Vinci Code.” By the end of the film her face had lit up and she was making clear to everyone that she loved the film.

“Sammie, we’ve been married for 9 months now – how come you didn’t introduce me to the X-Men earlier?”

After the film, we went to dinner and Melba couldn’t stop talking about the X-Men – who they are, what powers they have, the history between Magnito and Xavier, etc, etc... Melba then proceeded to borrow a collection of X-Men comics from my friend Mark (we saw the film with him and his wife and daughter and had dinner with them also.)

Now I know what you’re thinking – how much did Melba really get into the X-Men? After all, she has a Master’s Degree in Humanities, she loves reading the classics and watching musicals. But X-Men? Really?

That night Melba dreamed she was a super hero. After a triumphant victory, she stretched out her fist. Although dreaming, she really did stretch out her fist and in so doing punched me right in the forehead. “Oh Sammie, did I just punch you in the forehead?”

“Yup.”

“I’m sorry.”

Melba’s sister Anna commented on this ‘test of strength’ our marriage has now been through (I don’t think she realized the pun) and put it best by saying, “No more Taebo workouts for Melba!”

Why don’t I ever watch the news? Well, the BBC has now made the answer obvious. They were supposed to have interviewed an online music ‘expert’ about a lawsuit between the Beatles and Apple Computers, but they actually interviewed a cab driver.

And nobody noticed.

Why? Because news broadcasters are complete idiots who know nothing about what they are reporting on and the so-called ‘experts’ they bring on the air are about as smart as cab drivers.

Click here for an explanation from the guy who should’ve been on the air and a copy of the broadcast. Click here for the BBC report of the blooper.

In lieu of the typical goofy blogs about the funny things Melba and I do, I thought I’d share a nice, warm-fuzzy story with you all. We were volunteering for a Marine Corps non-profit gala/silent auction at a REALLY nice hotel in DC. Rep. Tom Davis was there as was Aaron Tippin. Aaron is a country singer – I hate country music – but his bio says he’s had a lot of hits. Anyways, I mostly went to get pictures of those people because celebrities always make a portfolio look better.

As I was taking pictures of all of the guests, 4 Marines arrived, and they were all in wheelchairs. I didn’t really talk to any of them, but I can only assume, based on their age, that they lost their legs in Iraq within the past couple of years.

One item in the silent auction was a Gibson Les Paul Classic signed by Tim McGraw. The guitar alone is worth around $1500-$2000. There was a guy named Paul standing there who was determined to not be outbid – even as the bidding went well past what the guitar was worth. Was he a guitar collector? No. Does he even play guitar? Never in his life. Why was he bidding on it? One of the marines in a wheelchair (I don’t know which) was staring at the guitar and talking about how much he would love to have something like that. Paul overheard the him and decided that for the sacrifice the Marine gave for his country, the least he (Paul) could do would be to get the guitar for him (the marine).

Paul waited by the guitar until the auction closed and had the guitar delivered to the marine. I took a picture of Paul by the guitar, then Paul told me he wanted to do this anonymously, so I won’t post the picture here.

Anyways, just thought I’d pass along that story.

No Red Eye Here!

A few weeks ago, a very stressed out Sammie was testing out camera settings and flashes in preparation for an upcoming shoot. He was especially concerned that the pictures not come out with red-eye. Naturally, I was the one with the flash in my face all night as he ran test after test. I was being especially goofy, trying to jar him from his nervousness. But he was all business. He snapped the following photo of me, hoping my eyes would not come out red.

After taking the picture (with a totally straight face) and pulling it up on his computer, he said very excitedly, and in all seriousness, "No red-eye here, Melba!"

How Do you Spell UPS?

The other night, Sammie and I came home to find the following post-it note on the front door of our building.

We had to pause for a moment, pondering how it was possible to misspell "UPS."

A Question

I'd like to post a question to our audience (all 5 of you). The other day, Sammie mentioned a chronic ringing in his ears. He said it's especially bad when he lies down at night to fall asleep. He shrugs it off as a leftover from his musician days. I see it as a great opportunity for worry--inner ear disorder, brain tumor, etc, etc.

But when I lie down to go to sleep at night, I hear a low, rhythmic grunting. Do you think there's something wrong with me?

May the Fourth be with you.

Oh, I really digress here. I need to find some better jokes. I'm only posting this because over the past couple of weeks our post total is equal to that of Melissa's appendixes. (-1). I removed the Donny Osmond post per request of my mom.

I'll find something better to post soon. I promise.

Gender Roles -

It turns out that losing an appendix is expensive. We have insurance, but patient responsibility and deductible start to add up. Sammie had set aside the next couple of months to devote to studying for the GMAT, which he hopes to take this summer. However, when a friend of mine approached him about shooting her wedding in a couple of weeks, he jumped at the chance. He told me later that he did it to pay the hospital bills for my surgery.

So... I watch Sammie come home from a full day's work, sit down at his computer, and start working on pictures until late in the evening. Often, he'll take a break to spend time with me and then keep working after I've gone to bed. I try to fix meals and keep up on the housework so he doesn't have to worry about that.

Last night, feeling emotional, I expressed my gratitude to him for taking such good care of me. I then attempted to comment on how we were falling into traditional gender roles already--he was worrying about finances, I was taking care of things at home. (It's so nice, by the way! It feels so natural.) I only got as far as "Sammie, it's funny how we're falling into traditional gender roles." Following is the rest of the conversation:

Sammie: Man watches football, woman fixes dinner?
Me: No, man makes stupid joke, woman rolls her eyes.
Sammie: Or, man works two jobs to finance woman?

Woman laughs so hard, she almost has to return to hospital. Man would then have to take three jobs...

Steve Urkel?

Sammie has creative ways of putting me in a good mood. For example...

I was cranky last night. I don't know why. It was probably a combination of being tired, feeling stressed, and not eating enough chocolate. Sammie had already tried the doing-the-dishes approach, the kissing-me-on-the-cheek approach, the rubbing-my-shoulders approach, and other tactics to put me in a good mood. Finally, though, he resorted to desperate measures.

As we were on our way to bed, he came out of the bedroom wearing his pajama shorts with the waist pulled high--just under his armpits. He didn't acknowledge his new look, just went throughout the condo casually turning out the lights. As soon as I saw him, I, of course, died laughing. He finally stopped, looked at me, and with a completely straight face asked, "What? Do I look fat?"

What a goofball...