Merry Christmas Baby

Bone Junior: Merry Christmas, Santa!

Santa: Well! Merry Christmas! (squinting at my t-shirt) Rockin.....uh.... (squinting more, then hit with realization) Uh... ho ho ho!!

Why I'm the Best Babysitter

It's that time of year again...time for me as a single person to do my annual charity work and babysit for free. I've found it to be the best form of birth control.

Friday night I stayed overnight with three of the most well-behaved kids I've ever met. They really are sweet, but its a shock to the system to be woken up at 6:30 am because they're ready to play. It's also a shock when the 4-year old pees on the wall and stops you from cleaning it up because "Mommy will clean it up later."

The most fun part was trying to explain to the six-year-old why I wasn't married. The conversation went something like this:

Six-Year-Old: Why don't you have a husband?
Bone Junior: Well, I guess I just need to find a nice boy.
Four-Year-Old: I'm a nice boy.
Bone Junior: Do you want to marry me?
Four-Year-Old: (thoughtfully contemplating) No, that's ok.

Then I taught all three kids to correctly identify the velvet Elvis on my shirt as "The King."

Saturday morning, I made breakfast for the third time in my life. Your eyes do not deceive you: those are chocolate chip pancakes (made with mini Hershey's kisses) drenched in syrup and smothered with peanut butter.


The best part was opening my camera case to find that horrendous fake spider, nearly shouting expletives and peeing myself simultaneousely, and trying to maintain some dignity in front of the two-year-old, who wasn't the least bit scared. At least the six-year-old offered to beat up her dad for hiding the spider in the first place.

Why You Should Never Ask Me to Cut the Pumpkin Pie

Where to begin. The last two weekends have given me the chance to enjoy myself as a single gal, along with my four favorite other single gals (G, you don't count as single anymore, otherwise you'd be included in my favorite single gals).

The week after Thanksgiving, my friend Nicole hosted a Thanksgiving feast extravaganza. She made a turkey and a cornucopia of tasty delights. Emily and I were assigned to bring the green bean cassarole (one of the now THREE things I know how to make; the other two being cinnamon rolls and omelets). Although I think we overestimated a bit when I said we needed six cans of green beans for five people. Cause, you know, people really like green beans.

The turkey was amazing.

My butt was amazing.

And this is what happens if you spend hours creating a home-made pumpkin pie and then ask me to cut it. I think Nicole still hasn't forgiven me for mutilating her pie like that.

Speaking of Nicole, her 26th birthday was last week. To celebrate, we got all gussied up and headed to the Cheesecake Factory that just opened in Salt Lake.

Yanaj, Me, Nicole, Emily:

a study of the phenomenon known as Tan By Association.

Elizabeth and Me

Yanaj and Me: my favorite gal to pose next to because she makes me look the most tan.

Sorry, Yanaj. Your alabaster skin is lovely.

They might be little, but they're good for something: holding the beeper during our ninety-minute wait. And also motorboating.

My goal is to one day be as tan as the wood behind me. I'm only a few shades off.

You know its love when you lick the whipped cream off your friend's arm. Maybe not love, maybe just really good whipped cream. What I love about this picture is that Elizabeth's laughing roar is forever frozen in time.

Now this is love.

I'm not one to toot my own horn (I have construction workers to do that for me) but I love my shoes. However, it has to be said that wearing open-toed heels during a snowstorm is not the ideal choice. But that's a sacrifice I was willing to make, and I think it paid off.

After spending all that time getting dressed up, I felt it was important to post a picture of me at my happiest: eating fresh snow. I also helped build a snowman for the first time in my life.

We named him LaMar, may he rest in peace. More to come.

I'm Known for my Superb Comic Timing

Scene: At the reception desk at my office.

Bone Junior: Ugh, my stomach.

Jamie: Poopy pants?

Vice-President, after magically appearing from behind a nearby wall, where we had no idea he had been lurking: Wow. I hope you start feeling better soon.

And yet still I wonder why there are men out there who think that I have no business working in the construction industry...

Come On Baby, Take It All Off

The day finally came - the day I'd been dreading since October 21, when my beloved Eagles lost (barely) to the stupid Bears. Six weeks later, I thought I was off the hook. I thought the Landscaper would be merciful and let me keep my dignity. Alas, it was not to be.

My rear end has never felt more bare, nor has my pride ever felt more stripped. I'm sure it will be worse when he gets the Bears sticker on.

Sigh.