Sunday, July 26, 2015

Are you dating a walrus?

Sons and Moons. 
Dad's only silly face. 
Monday left me smiling on all accounts. I've taken on 3 projects at work. Project Naomidis: Our job is to keep this suspension suspended, or to at least make sure it can be quickly distributed into your system. We found a certain powder we can add that helps with both aspects and (after being a little worried) received the news that it has low peroxide levels and so won't degrade the other ingredients. Project Bottle Opener: Our job here is to validate a model that predicts how much moisture tablets will take up. After some confusion last week, the experiment seems to be a bit more according to our predictions. Project Innovationization: Here we're trying to make the company more accessible to millennials. My team actually got narrowed down on an idea, agreed to the assignments I sent out, and I got some really positive feedback from some higher-ups on our plans.
Networking. I love it, but I hate it. I don't like being put in a room and being told, okay, do some networking. I do like making connections so I know who to ask when I need stuff. Apparently, I'm really good at it because people do me favors all the time.
A kid from the YSA ward has to go home suddenly (he being one of my only friends there), so we had a farewell party for him. Buffalo Wild Wings was involved (and heartily consumed) as well as a stop at Darrell's house for ice cream afterwards. I carpooled with Mom to her last Pathways class, which meant I didn't get home until midnight. Which is way past my bed time. (Meaning Friday was rough...)
Greg's lap is big enough for the
2 of us. Apparently. 
There it is. Bucket list that junk. 
But Saturday, we left at 6 for the temple. We attended the Mason family sealing and did a session. We snagged a couple temple cookies before heading to historic Boston for some world famous burgers and frappes. Shoutout to Zach for the recommendation! And may I suggest the Tom Brady (an inflating experience) with an Elvis frappe (it's all shook up). We then gallumphed over to Yawkey Way in search of standing room only tickets. Contrary to previous experience, however, the line was around the street! The game was sold out. And no amount of haggling could make it worth our money (especially since they ended up losing 5-1). We left and attended a YSA dance in Belmont, which was a significant improvement on the Palmyra fiasco. Greg and I were dancing like such crazy baffoons that everyone made a circle around us at various points to watch. I can't wait until the triple threat is reunited for UT dances. Those kids won't know what hit 'em.
Greg made cinnamon rolls ONLY for those who kept his engagements in PH class. (Meaning lots of leftovers for me :). We also became the official chauffeurs of the ward. I wouldn't complain if the drivers and the carless would communicate so rides were fixed to AND FROM church, so we wouldn't have to drive in the opposite direction of our house. Hindsight's 20/20. At least I had some cinnamon rolls to keep me company.
You know me. Always chillin' with my walruses. 




Sunday, July 19, 2015

Hello Sleepy, I'm Dad

Little known fact about my childhood: every night my dad, before I went to bed, my dad would sing "I Heard Him Come". I liked that better than stories. And I only recently remembered this was a thing . Which I bore in mind as I created a new Sunday playlist for my phone.  (And as I researched new piano music to play.)

Little believed fact about my adulthood: all my friends are getting married. Whenever I get on any social media, that's all I see. I usually comment about it, but apparently people really didn't believe me until the wedding announcements started arriving via snail mail. This is real life, people.

Speaking of real life, I had some real life relatives over this week, all the way from UT. Many games were played, moments were enjoyed, and general havoc was wreaked. We did venture out to Friendly's for dinner one night. The last family dinner I attended was at Taco Bell because we couldn't handle any nicer establishments. Moving up in the world.
Tuesday = Bastille Day = French Independence Day. The gang went down to a local beach before the rains came down and the floods came up. Meanwhile I enjoyed a baguette and cheese and eclairs and monochrome clothes. (Although not nearly as much as I would IN France, with their authentic foods and quirky Frenchmen.) In honor of this momentous occasion, I quote the French national anthem, La Marseillaise,
To arms, citizens,Form your battalions,Let's march, let's march!Let an impure bloodWater our furrows!
And speaking of blood, I cut myself shaving. I wiped it off when I got out of the shower and then folded my laundry before I realized it was still dripping. I showed Isabelle, who immediately said, I know that's fake blood, Naomi. You can't gross me out that easily. Little did she know.
Institute happened. Guac night happened. Moriah has a new hobby of picking blubes from the backyard. And there are plenty to pick. But the fact that she actually enjoys a chore gives me hope for her future. (Next up, Isabelle...) I worked on a skirt I'm making. Xander and Trevor had parties at our house on Friday, so I enjoyed the tomato and basil pizza we ordered. Mom trimmed my girl hair to get rid of my split ends. Naps were taken.

And I snatched some food from our ward's pioneer picnic.
Funny Sunday stories:
-A man let me touch his beard.
-There's a rather annoying boy in the singles ward that Greg enjoys because he's so ridiculous and weird. But the boy also really likes girls and won't really talk to other boys. He asks me to drive him to church even though 15 boys live in his town. Then he thanks me for the ride even if Greg is driving. Greg gave him a piece of gum today and he thanked me. Weirdo.
-Greg brings treats to his PH class for all those who did the engagements only. I like it.
-President Monson once explained to us the degradation of RMs. Week one: suit and tie. Week two: lose the suit jacket. Week three: lose the suit pants. Week four: lose the white shirt. Week five: add an earring and a girl on their arm. Week six: lose them. So we teased Darrell about it since he was wearing a colored shirt. This week, you bet your sweet aspercreme he was wearing a full on suit like a dapper gentleman.
-And if you were wondering, Greg is taller than me, but my wingspan is larger. Go figure.
-I got an email from church HQ right before sacrament meeting.

Monday, July 13, 2015

What's life without a few deep squats?

My apologies on the delay - let it be known throughout all the land that there have been no sudden familial deaths, experiments that went awry, or (much to the chagrin of the parentals) rash engagements. My sole and (I think) extremely valid complaint is simply fatigue. Tu vas voir.  
Monday marked the return of the parentals from Paris. They managed to find a decent granola outlet and score me a couple bags. What's left of them currently sit in my work office. It's getting awkward when people come ask me for office supplies and I open many a food-filled drawer to find what they want. The previous day, a multitude of YSA church-attendees invited me to basketball Monday night. I actually went, thinking there would be a decent crowd and only a small percentage of creepsters. But alas, not a single person showed up. (Except one who showed up very late). At least I had some quality GB time (which refers both to Gnarls Barkley and Gordon B Hinckley). 
This is also proof that
I brush my teeth
sometimes.

Having Mom back and tired meant that she skipped Mutual on Tuesday. It also meant that (through quite a bit of nonsensical yelling) we could convince her to join in a family game of Uno. It's called animal Uno for a reason, people. Every night Moriah asks me, So what are we doing tonight? And typically that results in the playing of several Uno games (or, on occasion, a little Totally Insane). Needless to say, I'm getting really good.
Wednesday, I actually went to Institute. I heard they were doing a special on Gordon B himself. After hearing his assertion that he would be remembered as the prophet no one listened to, I've decided to specifically erase my name from that list. Also, all the ladies in our fitness class want to wear pink shirts next Wednesday, so I did a practice run. Unfortunately, I don't own any pink.
Thursday marked the arrival of my maternal grandparents and also the day that I realized that my role at Pfizer has somewhat altered. I used to run all my own experiments, but now, I go to a lot more meetings and tell other people to run them for me. (I still try to do my own experiments, but ain't nobody got time for that). I'm not opposed to having underlings, though. Thursday was also the day that I was invited to go to the Palmyra Pageant this weekend. (Et, voila, la raison pour laquelle.)

Friday after work, Greg and I booked it up to Providence to meet our chums, Pamela and Jen. We left our car there and started the long trek to upstate NY (5.5 hours turned into 7 with some decent traffic). Don't worry, though. The entire trip was spent refreshing my Spanish abilities and trying not to let French slip out. (Quieres coquetiar conmigo? No lo quiero. Que basura.) Jen started out driving, but after her initial statement of I'm the worst driver in the world, we didn't let her drive for the rest of the trip. Plus, the driver's seat is the most spacious in the whole car. We arrived around midnight for a YSA dance. It was highly disappointing to say the least. But it did get me excited for our reunion with Derek. Between the three of us, everyone should be scared of the dance floor. It's truly terrifying. And simultaneously awe-inspiring. After an hour, we headed out to the campground and leeched on to a YSA campsite (note that none of the YSA activities we attended were for our own stake). Marcy, tent master, helped us figure out Jen's tent and we were in bed around 2:30. (In contrast to my normal 9:30 bed time....)
We woke up to some guy yelling YSA breakfast is ready! Hence our early wake up around 7:30. Would we ever pass up a free egg sandwich breakfast? Negatron, ghostrider. After that we tried to hit up the shower. Emphasis on tried. We changed and left for the temple. Pam and Jen didn't have their own clothes, so they did initiatories while we did a session. It was wonderful. The bouncer almost bounced us out because our names weren't on his list, but our new friend, Sister Turner, hooked a brother up. We broke the fire code with all the extra chairs in the room. At one point, the brother in charge tried putting a chair in front of a first timer and a lady said No! You can't put it in front of her! So he moved it two chairs down, in front of a more experienced patron and said You don't need to see this....Alrighty then. We then got a wonderful gentleman named Stan to take our picture in front of the temple.
We claimed some mediocre seats at the Hill Cumorah and drove to the top. (Not about that walking life.) We sat with a security guard at the top whose very important job it was to keep kids off the grass. Security breach! I met a guy who served in my mission, in Cannes and had a wonderful chat with him that didn't last nearly long enough.












From there, we went to the Sacred Grove, where, who should we meet? Our friend, Stan, and his wife! We took pics of them this time and had another chat. They promised to save us seats if they found better ones. Half of the walk was very peaceful, relaxed, and Spirit-filled. Then we ran into Derek and his family and we had a nice chat with them and I caught a few frogs and such for their kids to play with. Good times all around.
We then returned to the pageant and snatched up six second-row seats in the non-reservable section (if you leave, they remove your stuff). I took a nap on the grass until a child next to us started trying to eat my toes. We became fast friend with James, Kayla, and Kara. Jen even held James for several hours until he fell asleep. The next several hours were spent sleeping, picture taking with actors, searching for ice cream, and doing Stan Scans. (Don't worry, we found them! And they sat with us in the second row!)
Then my mission president gave his homecoming talk and my whole mission was there and my delightful friend Carolyn recorded it for me. I love them all.
Stan and his wife. Looking forward to our birthday calls, buddy!
Notice the apostle on the left? He doubles as
cliff jumper in the final battle. 
 
King Noah bein' too lazy to jump into my arms.
You know him. He ain't about that life.


Sunday, July 5, 2015

Home Alone

'Merca. 
 Happy Fourth. We celebrated this week by kicking our parents out of the house and living as free men (on the money they gave us). (And I'm still mad they went to France without me.) It was weird. There was only Greg (who has no job yet), Kevin (who kind of has a job sometimes), Trevor (who has a social life), Moriah (who literally does nothing all day), and yours truly. The house was mostly clean most of the time and we all wished we could give it a really thorough cleaning before Mom and Dad got home, but Mom would probably get mad at us for throwing all her stuff away, so we refrained. Barely.  Mainly it was weird because I felt like a parent. I went to work all day and came home where Greg had made dinner and we all ate together, which is a rare occurrence these days. Sometimes we'd even watch Arrow together. #6andUP Ca me fait bizarre. You know what else is bizarre? My two favorite mission presidents (Packer & Roney) are home now. I love them.

Thursday. Because the end of my week, as per usual, was infinitely more exciting than the beginning. I've got an intern friend, Maddie Loe, who I think is lonely in her office by herself, so I'm starting a Thursday tradition with her where we make fresh guac for lunch. Unfortunately, it's still a little rusty and she forgot the chips. Since she does not yet have the "I do what I want" mindset, I left work right quick and picked up some chips. Crisis averted. Ended off the night right with some Night Frisbee and homemade chocolate shakes.

I had Friday off, so Greg, Moriah, and I went clothes shopping. Greg only has brown shirts and I only have t shirts. And Moriah was bored. I met Greg back at the car after a bit and he showed me all his new colorful button down shirts he got. Well. It's a step closer. Then we all went to a YSA pool party, where Moriah chose to flirt it up with the men instead of swimming in the pool. I don't understand her.

And Saturday was a 6 Flags date for me and Kevin. He bought a season pass that I somehow convinced him to give me and I paid for parking. And carried his stuff. There was a special deal for Coke-bringers: you could enter the park an hour early. Luckily, we found some Coke at the YSA pool party and snatched a couple cans. We then proceeded to ride Bizarro more than its fair share of times. I'm all about that life.




















We arrived home to have a July 4 cookout with Greg and all pyrotechnics have been postponed due to weather and my parents not trusting me with open flames. (I am an EMT, guys.) We also then played several rounds of Uno, of which I won all but a single game.

Sunday. I got to teach Moriah a little more about fasting. She's not a huge fan. I got to read some of Tad R's The Infinite Atonement, which, as with anything of Tad's, comes highly recommended by myself. And I got to have another meeting as a ward missionary. Less actives beware. It was a weird day today because my conversations kept getting interrupted as if people couldn't see I was talking to someone else. It was rather disconcerting. But I did get several invites to basketball tomorrow, which means people might actually show up.

Shoutouts. First to Blake Roney,  who agreed to be my mission president. That might have been the worst and best decision you ever made. Sorry for being crazy. And for hiding pictures in all your stuff. And always taking everybody's interview time. (Haha. Jokes. Not sorry at all.) It's wonderful to have you back in the states. Don't forget to set an extra plate every Sunday night. The storm is coming.

To Boyd K. You lived a long and inspiring life. You'll be missed.

Also shoutout to this guy that always does ridiculous (but temporary) things that I challenge him to do. Love a good man bun. It's coming. (However, that bro tank is terrifying.)