Holidays at our House

Christmas deco

This will be our 3rd Christmas together. And it will be the first one in which a tree was involved. Since we'll actually be spending Christmas at home this year I was adamant that we have a tree. And thanks to my mom, we now have an advent calendar that looks just like the one I grew up with. Which I am just thrilled about because I loved that thing in all it's velcro glory. And with those two things up it sure started to feel like Christmas. The final touch was switching my Scentsy fragrances from Thanksgiving to Christmas smells. (Get Buckleberry! It's amazing!) Now if it would only snow here in Colorado that would be the frosting on the Christmas cookie!

The next step is to find some goodies to place under the tree. Which is proving to be a little difficult. Can someone please make a Christmas Gift Guide for your husband that is NOT a v-neck wearer, helvetica lover, gadget buyer, or alcohol drinker? Basically every blogger's husband is "cooler" than mine and therefore, their gift guides are not helpful. I need a gift guide for a man who loves sports and dogs and Chipotle. Any ideas?


Reason I love Jason #3278

Jason insists on using his made up words rather than the actual word assigned to a specific object or meaning.

Ex. No. 1 - Key Swab
Ex. No. 2 - Bagadabing Bagadaboom

Correction No. 1 - Key Fob
Correction No. 2 - Badabing Badaboom

He's a real Dr. Shakespeare Seuss that one. But really he does these things to annoy me. And I correct him endlessly, which probably annoys him. And that works for us. And basically we love each other.

Photo of a photo from sister's wedding


The Woes of a Picky Eater

I am what they call a "Picky Eater." (Though I find that name offensive and I prefer to use the term "highly selective.") People like to judge me. It's because I haven't tried that tomato enough, or my parents failed me as a child. False and double false. I'm sorry, but it does not matter how many times I try salmon and how many different ways you prepare it, I cannot convince my taste buds to participate in my culinary excursions.

Many people try to convince me to try something. "Here, it's delicious, just take a little bite. You might like it." I assure you that I will always adamantly decline. If I feel like trying something and have a spurt of bravery I'll say "Let me try that." And then I will. And usually, I hate it. (Except for that one time I finally tried that gross looking green stuff they call guacamole. Mind blown.)

I'd also like to set the record straight. I am not declining your generous food offering because I lack the adventure bone. I am declining your offer because I am gravely concerned that I JUST MIGHT THROW UP ON YOU.

It's not just the taste buds that force me to be "highly selective," it's my gag reflex. And if you offer me another mushroom, my gag reflex is going to get angry with you.

Now, you have been warned. You DO NOT want my gag reflex on your bad side.


Thought Throw-Up

Isn't it amazing what moving the part in your hair 3 centimeters to the right can do to your face? I look awesome.

Why are water fountains at ice cream shops so dang delicious? Sodium?

How come everyone in Connecticut wore sneakers to school and no one in California did? That made me look like a loser when I started my junior year of high school after moving across the country.

Do you ever scroll through your Facebook feed and forget which people you had actual relationships with and which people were simply acquaintances? Ugh, I'm the worst at keeping in touch.

Are your ears pierced? Do you wear earrings? Mine are and I don't.

Why is it that I don't cry over actual sad things* and yet I cry when I watch this dumb commercial? *Unless it's heart-wrenching, obviously. 



We flew home to California for the quietest Thanksgiving ever with my parents. None of my siblings were able to make it so it was just us four. So we ate a lot, crafted a bit, saw some old friends, visited Old Town Sacramento, went on a walk with the abominable snow man (and obtained the best picture ever but I promised not to share it but I also will never delete it because it's good for a laugh) and watched a lot of Seinfeld

This was also the trip that I finally overcame my fear of flying. I've dealt with this anxious, awful fear for a whopping 12 months of my life. It all started when I moved to Denver and then proceeded to fly on EIGHT of the most turbulent flights of my life. (Like drinking-tipping, people-shrieking, we're probably going down turbulence.)

I grew up flying a ton. I've never been afraid of flying, but for the last year every plane I was on seemed like it was going to fall out of the sky. And that can make a person a little antsy. Luckily, it seems that year of bizarre flights has come to an end and the last few have been fairly normal. 

Thank goodness because then I would have had to start driving every where and long car trips are the worst...especially through northern Nevada. 



"I never enjoy a single bite when I'm at Chipotle. Because I know it's coming to an end. I sit down and immediately I get sad."

Jason, discussing his love/hate relationship with Chipotle. One burrito is never enough...


Christmas shopping

Last Christmas Jason and I bought a customized pad of paper from Zazzle for his parents. We play a lot of hand & foot so we thought this would make the perfect gift. As you might be able to see from this picture, that pad has gotten a lot of use.
So I've decided that I need to do all of my Christmas shopping at Zazzle this year.

For Caitlin:
I'd get her this shirt. Because she took anatomy in high school and still has every bone in the body memorized. And she likes to correct me when I refer to them as my "leg bone" and my "arm bone." Also, we do puns in this family. 

For Jason:
I'd get him this phone case. Because he loves Colorado and the Colorado flag. And then maybe he'd stop wearing his Colorado flag t-shirt ALL THE TIME!

For myself:

I'd get this monogramed key chain. Because I have been asking for a key chain for a year and a half and Jason keeps forgetting to get me one. Such an easy gift. And so cheap! Jason, buy this!

For everyone else:
I'd get them this mug with our ugly mugs on it. My mug is on a mug. Life goal complete.

And just like that, Christmas shopping is done!


A Homecoming Date

I posted this picture on my old fashion blog but then I deleted that sucker and I really felt this photo deserved to be immortalized on this here blog. For those of you who don't know the backstory, I was going through family albums at Jason's parents house a few months ago and found this little gem.

That would be my brother-in-law, clenched fist and all, taking this gorgeous girl to homecoming. Jeff, that is Keri Russell. Unclench your hand!

When I first saw this photo, I thought, "That is so cool. I loved her in August Rush." But since then, Felicity showed up on Netflix Instant Watch. (I was a tad too young for that show when it was on air.) And now this picture has reached a whole new level of star-struck awesomeness. That is Felicity.. in my in-laws house, standing where I've stood many times, in front of a fireplace I've sat on many times, breathing the air I've breathed many times.. (Okay, that one might be a stretch.)

Oh Felicity, let's be friends.


Hey Coach

I have decided that I would like to eternally declare my love for Friday Night Lights. How will I do this you ask?

I shall name my first born son Eric Taylor. And we will call him "Coach." 

Because Eric Taylor is the best character in the world and Coach is seriously the cutest nickname for a little boy.

There are only two problems with this plan. My sister-in-law has already claimed the name Eric. Annnnnd I have no baby boy to name.

Alas... in a perfect world...

In next week's series I'll tell you all about how Jason would like to name his future sons after the main characters of The OC. Seth and Ryan, get over here right now!



I suffer from bunions. But I really really really really really really despise that word. Loathe. Abhor. Eschew. (Thanks for that one thesaurus.com! Also, does anyone else imagine a dinosaur with a book for a head when they hear that word? No? Just me. Carry on.)
Let's be honest. The word bunion is one gross sounding word. But it's not my fault that my feet-bones hate me and my choice of shoes. Please don't judge me because I suffer from a gross sounding word.
I squirm every time I tell Jason, "My bunions are really hurting today." My bunions. MY bunions. Throwing a 'my' in front of that gross sounding word makes it seem as though it is venturing into a world of endearment and belonging. And that I will not stand for.
Which is why I've decided to rid myself of that gross sounding word all together, and henceforth, they shall be known as Paul. For obvious reasons.
This is the moment where I would draw poetic similarities between the giant, axe-wielding, Babe the Blue Ox for a sidekick Paul Bunyan and the painful, icky feet-bone bunion. But really, there are none.

Though I would venture to guess that with all that walking, and axe dragging, Mr. Bunyan had some pretty big bunions of his own. I know how you feel man, I know how you feel.


Father's daughter

My father tells a lot of puns (some bad, some good, all under-appreciated). He also likes to speak Spanish any chance he gets. The following is a direct result of being his daughter:

One time I was running around looking for my keys. "Donde estan mis llaves?!*" I yelled as I was running around the house in circles. And then all of the sudden my keys appeared. I held one up proudly. "Oh! Aqui!**" And then I smiled smugly and looked around to make everyone else in the room appreaciated my witty joke.

Moral of the story: I AM FUNNY IN SPANISH! But only when I've lost my keys.

* Where are my keys?!
** Oh! Here!


Namesake pants

Do you ever feel more inclined to buy something because the name of the item in question is in fact your name.

For example:
"That dress isn't that cute. Oh look! It's called Rebecca. I should probably buy it."

I was overly tempted to buy a pair of Paige jeans that had TERRIBLE rear pockets because their name was my last name.

...Doooes that ever happen to you?