- Is it because there are no children at the playboy mansion?
- Or is this more about people being different than us and that scares us?
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Fred, the little mouse that was in my kitchen earlier this week, seems to have heeded my warnings…We have not seen a trace of him since that Monday afternoon, and Danny said he hasn’t heard any scampering in the walls near the closet… which apparently had been taking place earlier to my discovery of Fred, but Danny didn’t want to tell me (he thought I might freak out.) Yeah, seeing the little freakazoid (Fred, my four legged friend, not my husband) scampering* across our kitchen counter was a much easier way to break the news to me…
Also, I managed to live through a bout of the Hantavirus; thanks for the heads up Spence, good thing I was taking Echinacea at the time. (I’m joking obviously.)
But when Fred and I had our little discussion last week, I think we really connected. I invoked the same “power of persuasion” tactics my old man used when warning me about the dangers of the male species as a teenager (basically, don’t get close to the fire or you’ll get burned by the flame.) Only for any of you who know Suiter, you recognize the “talking to” lasted a lot longer and the stare was much more intense ("fear of God" is more of an appropriate description.)
So I feel good that I didn’t have to use the mouse poison… it would be really hard to practice Zen principles if I was killing a mouse. Then again, we don’t have children, and the consensus seems to be I’d feel different if little Stevie, Holden or Geneva/Chamonix** were in our place.
On a completely separate note... I started writing my "chick lit" novel this week... This is my official 2nd go at writing a novel. The first one (back in 2004 I think), I was about 65 pages in and was SO FED UP with my heroine that I just quit writing because I figured if I can't even have a character I've created fall in love with the right kind of man, what does that say about me? (Thankfully, I've ameliorated the problem since.) I just felt at the time that I was having enough problems with the male species in real life, that I didn't need to create an alter ego to live through the pain as well... once was enough for all of my personalities. ;)
*But I think it would be really funny to see Danny scamper.
**Also, we haven’t decided which European city we’re naming our second daughter after
Monday, April 14, 2008
Fine, be that way… I shall move onto something more “interesting.” (I happen to find my food intake very interesting, but Danny saus I’m starting to sound like I have an eating disorder… which, hello! “Bulima is like sooo 9th grade… well, in my case, a good portion of my senior year of college, but lets move past that .. I have.)
Back to the GRIND.
There is a mouse in my house. (Sometimes I think I am too honest in my posts... first posting my weight, now this.)
But seriously, there is a mouse in my house. Probably more than one… I don’t really want to know. I just want Mickey and his friends to leave. I’m not trying to be violent; I’m not trying to build a better mouse trap… I just want him out.
I saw him scamper across my kitchen counter this afternoon (excuse me, I just vomited in my mouth.)
I really shouldn’t post this, because I’m not sure if anyone will EVER want to come over for a dinner party again… but apparently these things are quite common on the East side (“east side pride” my Kim-Kardasian-sized “A.C.E.”)
Double Ew. (The mouse, not Kim K.)
Danny refers to the deer and other creatures of Mt. Olympus as “his little friends.” (This actually stems back to when my little nephew Max, now 3, got bit on the finger at the Krohn Conservatory in Cincinnati last winter. When we asked him to recount the sad tale, he began his story with: “Well, I thought he was my little friend.”)
The moral of the story is, I want them to be my little friends (I hope actually there’s just one friend… this is one case in socialization that I don’t really want to grow my circle of love.)
I want them to know I appreciate them as God’s creatures… I’m sure they do something splendid in the circle of life… but let’s stick to the cartoon Lion King and have them take their rightful place in the animal kingdom which does NOT include eating my fancy crackers that are delectable with Brie cheese… they don’t need it… it’s not what God intended. I’m pretty sure I don’t need a “witness” about the truth of that statement.
It says Man is that he might have joy; but I have not seen ANYWHERE in the scriptures where is says “mice are that they might eat pretentious crackers!”
So here’s the deal… I got this new “Pest a Cator” and “Bait Block” for the bargain price of about 50 bux. (I know, those $5 mouse traps are a lot cheaper, but I do not want to see a dead rodent in my house… I’d much rather see a LIVE one scampering outside to NEVER return to the Suite-Cain-Mangum pad. )
So the Pest a Cator says that you just plug it in and its “patended pulse electro magnetic technology .. [will] send a pulsing signal throughout the wiring of [my] home. This silent pulse is intended to annoy rodents and may help with problems behind walls.”
(Again, excuse me… more vomiting…)
So, that is my “nice” way of saying, “GET OOOOOOOOOOOUTTT you filthy rodent!!!” (Which in this case, is completely literal in its meaning.)
See I’ve already asked them nicely to leave… after I screamed bloody murder… but I really did ask nicely at first. But I was afraid they weren’t listening. I don’t even speak a second human language… let alone “mouse.” Though I do have some ex-boyfriends who I am confident spoke “RAT.” (Just kidding, sort of…)
And if they don’t comply (the mice, not the ex-boyfriends, obviously)… well, I’m taking the very non Buddhist approach and letting them eat the poison where they supposedly bleed internally and try to find their way outside (Danny says to find water… I’d say to find a better resting place than next to our cheerios. That just looks gluttonous…even for a mouse.)
So they’ll be dead… and I may feel better that their gone… but it will kind of be like: “Listen dudes… I tried to warn you. But no, you needed the fancy crackers… and now, you MUST DIE!” Or their case, you’re dead.
Do mice go to heaven? I feel terrible.
Anyway, the box for the electromagnetic mouse-be-gone surprise says: “Within days you may see and increase ub activity as “Pest A Cator” begins working.”
So at least I have something to look forward to in this little experiment : more little friends.
PS. After this post, you can promise I won’t be talking about what I’m eating.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
So Danny told me to write a new blog because he was sick of my old one.
Agreed, I haven’t written for a while, so I guess it’s time. I’ve been sick (I blame the lack of carbs… my body has nothing to fight off disease with!) I’m kidding, but I cannot tell a lie.
My non-diet diet has practically ceased to exist. I found girl scout cookies in my mother’s freezer… I was at their house alone, so all of the sudden it’s like I was thinking "if no one can see me eat the calories, they probably don’t exist!”
I am so sick of this.
The moral of the story is… I really feel soooo much better when I’m off the white bread and desserts… truly. My head craves them, but my front bum can do without. ;)
I interrupt this post to bring you the following MESSAGE:
There is a FABULOUS new restaurant in St. George. (And if you think that Olive Garden qualifies as a good restaurant I don’t know why you’d read my blog because I swear I am the anti-chain restaurant.
So it’s called “25 Main” and it’s on, you guessed it… Main street! Just up from the Tabernacle by Little Professor Bookstore … My buddies opened it… I had the pesto pasta today with mushrooms and artichokes and we had this tremendous salad with grapes, apples and (Get this!) “FIG” dressing… it was delightful.
And the gal that owns it is the same chick that did the artistic and culinary creation that was our Wedding cake (Designer cakes by Erin Dye). You can actually see our cake on her website... it's about 9 or so pictures in... the first white cake with pink flowers/designs and is like 4 or five layers (I can't even remember)... I just checked. It's 5 layers.
So if you make the trek to SG anytime soon… PLEASE check it out!!! Finally a place in St. George that isn’t the likes of Chili’s, Applebees or Sizzler… EEEK!
25 Main has such a cool vibe… and they even have a special “cupcake” bar for dessert… delightful! And all the art work on the walls looks like it was taken right out of that Smashing Pumpkins video where they play the cellos on the stars… you know the one?
Wraps, paninis, pastas, salads and sandwiches… seriously, you’ve got to check it out especially if you live in SG! (Darth Spencer, you’ve got to check it out.)
One other thing to mention…
I went to this “Ski to Live” camp this past weekend… for those of you not “in the know” (I’m kidding, I had never heard of it until Kristen Ulmer contacted my editor about writing a story for SkyWest Magazine)... well, it’s a ZEN ski and yoga camp… about how to listen to the inner voices (the doubter, the seeker, fear, anger, the critic, the controller, the protector, etc) … well, how to tap into or recognize the voices to ski like a crazy person (I definitely ski like a crazy person… I still haven’t figured out that whole “pole plant” thing)… but there was thins ZEN master Genpo Roshi that came to work with us in the evenings and we’d ski in the day and then do yoga… and all of this self work.
There were people from Utah, and some from back east and all over the country… there was even a lady that came from New Zealand to attend the camp. It ended up being a great experience… but I didn’t know if I was going to make it after the first night or two. My ski coach was a shaman healer who asked us to ski like different animals (my “hummingbird” was the fastest and my “snake” was the most effective… though I did find “jaguar” quite effective for the mini-moguls.)
Does this sound crazy? It was. But I’m going to write a story for the winter edition of SkyWest Magazine, so once I get my thoughts together in a more coherent form…