Can You Spot a Fake Smile?

I found this test while deep in blog-stalking land and thought it was interesting enough to share with my own blog stalkers. Can you identify a fake smile? Check it out. I didn't do so well - only scored 11 of 20. Go ahead, give me a courtesy smile. I'll never know the difference. I also tried the Sex I.D. test. I am definitely more female brained. Thank goodness (was there ever any question?). How did you do?

Paul

We received a phone call this weekend that was so shocking, so unreal, I'm not even sure how to express my feelings. We learned that my step-brother, Paul, passed away in his sleep a few days ago. He was 28 yrs. old. Other than grandparents, I have never experienced the death of a close family member. We gathered as family today to show love and support for each other, my parents - especially Paul's dad, sister and brother.

More than anything, Paul loved his family. He loved his neices and nephews and they adored him. He was kind, funny, and playful. He always made us laugh, not because he was trying to be a comedian, but because he said the most ding-bat stuff sometimes.

I can recall one summer we were having a bbq in my backyard. Paul came over singing a line from an Eagles tune"Life's Been Good to Me,"... "My Mazda Miata does 185..." When we corrected him singing the correct words, "My Maserati does 185" he was embarrassed and tried to blow it off like he knew all along. He never lived it down and I'll never sing this song the same again.

I can also remember just before I was married, G was in grad school and it was finals week. I had just sold my house and was in the process of moving. Frusturated that I had no help, Paul shows up at my door. He and I moved my big furniture together. He never complained, never asked for payment, just wanted to be helpful. As small as this may seem, I am forever grateful for his service.

A few years ago Paul's brother Ben needed a kidney transplant. This would be his second transplant and he was looking for a donor. His sister wasn't a match, but Paul was. Without hesitation, he donated his young kidney to his brother. A small sacrifice for himself, but literally a life-saving decision for his brother.

These are just a few of many examples of how Paul lived his life. While he struggled getting motivated to go to school or work and sowed some wild oats in his days, he always kept his family first.

We will miss Paul dearly. I still can't believe he is gone. I suppose it will all become real as time passes. I take strength in knowing that someday we may see each other again. We all imagined tonight that he met Scarlet, the family dog and his pal, at the pearly gates. No doubt they are frolicking in heaven's dog park. As Randy put it, Paul and Scarlet were perfect pals. They both had the biggest hearts, but neither had a lick of sense in them.

We love you, Paul. Take it easy, man.

Happy Anniversary, Pookie!

Today is my 6th wedding anniversary. March 30. I remember the day so vividly. It was a beautiful spring day, the warmest it had been in six months. We had our ceremony at 7 a.m. Either we were crazy, or wanted to know who our true friends were. While I wish I could remember even one word the sealer said, I don't. I just remember a room full of people who loved and supported us. I also remember that Nicole's temple recommend had expired and the temple people weren't going to let her in. Luckily my bishop (who was also Nicole's bishop) was on hand to convince them she was "worthy." We had a lovely luncheon with lots of friends and family mingling. I don't regret a thing about that day, except that I forgot to schedule the Dutch dance. I really screwed up TRADITION!!! Oh well, G didn't know any better and the day went off without a hitch otherwise.

For our anniversary we went up to the cabin, just the two of us. It was a lovely weekend. Very quiet and nice to be in each other's company.

Six things I love about G:

1. He is the smartest guy I know. An encyclopedia. A freak of nature. Ask him anything and he knows the answer (unless he's watching t.v., then he doesn't know anything)

2. He tickles my arm on demand. This took some training, but now he just knows when I need an arm tickle.

3. He does all the laundry every week. I think he might even enjoy it. He learned early on not to dry everything on high (see # 1 above).

4. He can play a wicked game of ping-pong and he is teaching me some of his tricks so that someday I can beat him. He loves me so much that he doesn't always keep score so I don't have to lose every time we play.

5. He has an appreciation for all things utilitarian. Some times this can be maddening, but generally it is a good reminder to me not to be frivolous.

6. He reminds me often how much he loves me.

Alta Club Third Annual 5K

In today's mail I received an entry form for the Alta Club Third Annual 5K Run, Walk and Wheel. Mr. G and I have run this race since its inception three years ago. Last year G signed me up and informed me after the fact that he had put me in the "Athena" catergory, and himself in the "Clydesdale" catergory - if you don't know what that means, think heavy weights. Needless to say I was not pleased with my catergorization. After the race we didn't stick around to hear our placement. A few weeks later G called the Alta Club to find out our placement and learned we each placed first in our catergories and we could pick up our medals at the Club. I never did pick up our medals. Too much guilt.

If you're interested in participating in the race you can sign up at The Salt Lake Running Co., online at http://www.active.com/, or at the Alta Club front desk. Race day is April 26th at 8 A.M. The course starts up by the State Capitol and ends in Memory Grove. It's a good run (or walk, or wheel).

Live from New York

Mr. G is in New York this week for some important meetings. I hate it when he's gone. Get's kind of lonely around here. Nobody asking me what's for dinner, no battles for internet time, I have complete control of the remote. What I love though, is how distance makes the heart grow fonder, especially for G. I hear from him more during the day when he's out of town then when he's home.

I received two emails from him today that went something like this (remember, he's sitting in important meetings)

email # 1: Miss your trash, Pookie!

email # 2: Hey, want to go to Vegas in July? I know it's hot, but . . . see some shows . . .ride some roller coasters . . . any interest?

Email # 1 is sweet. Email # 2 made me laugh. Vegas in July? Those meetings must be great since G's mind is clearly wandering. I guess he needs something to look forward to this summer.

What is Facebook anyway?

The other day I received an email from my brother-in-law inviting me to join his network of friends on Facebook. So I followed the link, which directed me to set up an account and confirm we were "friends." Suddenly I had all kinds of people inviting me to their Facebook pages. Great! An instant network....I guess.

Here's what I know about Facebook: I've heard of it. I've heard of Mark Zuckerberg, the 23 yr. old founder whose net worth is something like $23 billion because of it, but I had never actually logged on to the website.


After exploring the minimalistic site and looking at my "friends" profiles, I don't really get the point. What makes it so great? Other than providing the world with what I consider highly confidential identifying information about oneself and having little one-liner conversations with your friends posted, what am I supposed to do on Facebook? I'm serious. Give me advice, because now I'm a member and I'm not sure why.

New Dogs

I have been saying for several weeks now that I need new running shoes. The other night Mr. G calls me from Dicks Sporting Goods. The conversation went something like this:

Mr. G: "Hey, I'm at Dicks. They have your running shoe on sale. What's your size?"
Me: "Is it the Kinsei, (the running shoe of my dreams)?"
Mr G: "No Pookie. Those cost like $200 and they're not on sale. These are just like the ones you have now." (I've always been one step behind cool - there's a new model of my shoe this year, and these are LAST years model).
Me: "Oh. What color are they?"
Mr. G: "Well...(pause, then chuckle) they are kind of retro."
Me: "What color is retro? Like metalic Flash Gordon or something?"
Mr. G: "They're like brown and stuff ."
Me: "Like brown cool or like brown hideous?"
Mr G: "They're not bad (chuckle again). Should I get them?" Said hurriedly.
Me: (since I'm desperate for new shoes) "Yeah. It doesn't matter what color they are anyway. I'm not trying to make a fashion statement." Lie.

So he gets home and with the most guilty "You're going to look like a dork" look on his face, and this continuous under-the-breath snickering, assures me I'm going to love my new shoes. I didn't think they were so bad afterall. So what if they're not the Kinsei.

The next morning I go to the gym. Every person I walked by looked directly at my shoes. It's confirmed. They're butt.

P.S. Though they may be ugly, they took me on a good long run today and my feet and body feel glorious. April 19th, here I come!

Debussy's La Fille Aux Cheveux De Lin

Tonight was the "Federation" piano recital, where all Ms. England's piano students played a piece learned for the Piano Federation competition. Since I am the oldest student studying with Ms. England, I am actually too old to be a part of the federation festivities, but I do get to be a part of the recital. Here is a crappy recording of my original performance. Don't be too disappointed when you don't hear the first three measures and the last 14 measures of the song. The first missing measures is due to camera operator error. The missing 14 measures is my own fault for foolishly forgetting to clear-up some room on the memory card prior to the recording. Luckily my piano teacher's husband graciously volunteered to record a second performance after the recital so I will at least have a full performance on record. It will be a few weeks before I get that recording though, and it will be on VHS. First place prize goes to the person who can remember what VHS stands for!

What you don't know about this recording is just how nervous I am while playing. Not only am I nervous about the recital, but I showed up a 1/2 hour late (I thought it started at 6:30, but it really started at 6:00)! When I got there there were only three students to play before me. I had no time to meditate, so during my performance my pedal foot is shaking madly and my arms feel like Jello. Despite the nerves, I am proud of my performance. While this song isn't as "impressive" a piece as performed in recitals of yesteryear, it is one of my favorite Debussy compositions.

Since you don't get to enjoy the entire song, enjoy these beautiful flowers. My dear neighbor and biggest fan gave these to me tonight. I just love a bright spring bunch. And to my entire fan club, your support never goes unnoticed!

Knitting Shmitting

I consider myself fairly capable when it comes to domestic skills of all kinds. Knitting however, is one that has me stumped. It's like I have 10 thumbs trying to maneuver two sticks and a strand of yarn, all the while having to count my stitches. Just when I think I've got it down, it all unravels. Folks, it's not that easy.

On a recent trip to the cabin, my Mom pulled out her knitting bag and said, "Hey, why don't you knit a hat?" Right. I can barely knit a scarf (read: B-A-S-I-C). How in the world did she expect me to pull together a hat? My Mom has a lot of faith in my domestic abilities. So she whips out some crazy knitting needles that were attached to each other (alright, I'm already baffled before even getting started) and a ball of yarn and I start doing something that resembles knitting. When I am almost done and ready to "transfer to double point needles" (huh?), she realizes she has forgotten the double point needles. So I pack up my project thinking that is the end of that.

Tonight while visiting with my Mom, she pulls out my hat and says, "Let's finish this!" So fumble fingers here pulled it together and look how fun! I love it - flaws and all (just adds character, Mumsie!). Now I just need a kid to wear it, then make about four dozen more so I don't forget how to do it again. Let me know if you want one for your little ones!

P.S. Just as I had wrapped this up, my Mom says to me, "Now you should try socks!" Whoa. Baby steps, Mumsie.

And you are....?

While reading the headlines this morning, a particular article caught my attention, Breakthrough Discoveries: De-mystifying and attacking Alzheimer's disease. Alzheimer's disease causes changes or deterioration in parts of the brain that control communication, behavior and thinking, leaving it's victim forgetful, disoriented and unable to understand or perform basic tasks. There is little known about the causes of the disease, but scientist theorize it could be due to "gooey clusters" and "tangles of proteins" that form between nerve cells causing them to deteriorate. There may also be a link to diabetes.

The impacts of Alzheimer's disease hit close to home, as my Grandma was stricken by the disease in her later years. I first noticed she was struggling with memory loss while I was on a trip to Holland with both grandparents, and other family members. While Grandma generally seemed to be normal, she tended to frequently repeat herself. One example: she said to my aunt, "I like your hair. Where do you get it done?" My aunt replied, "Thank you. Joyce at the 7th East Salon cuts it." Not five minutes later she would ask again, "I like your hair. Where do you get it done?" This was a recurring theme on this trip, but at this point she still remebered who each of us were.

{I'll insert a really great picture here as soon as I find it}

A few years later Grandma's dimensia became much more obvious. One of the last times I saw Grandma was at a birthday party the family threw for her at her assisted living facility. I was dating Mr. G at the time and he had never met her. When we got to the party I saw Grandma sitting quietly in her wheelchair. We walked over to her and I excitedly called out, "Hi Grandma, it's Rebekah!" (It wasn't unusual to "remind" her who we were, since we all knew she didn't have the foggiest idea) I received no response. Not only did she not recognize me, but it was if I was not even talking to her. I didn't really know how to react to her response, so I just walked away a little baffled. Immediately Mr. G asked, "Aren't you going to introduce me?" Oh, how rude of me. So I turned around and said, "Grandma, this is my friend, Mr. G." We recevied the same response - none. I had to explain later to Mr. G that this was not my Grandma and certainly not how I wanted to remember her. The decline in her mental health had really shocked me.

I can recall my Grandma being involved in early medical studies on the disease. She was a test patient for developing medications. As the article suggests, medications today do not prevent the disease from spreading, they merely slow it down, which is basically what happened with my Grandma. Scientists are however, making progress on determining what causes Alzheimers and creating medications that help fight the factors involved. While it may not be this year, next year or even in five years, I do believe science will find a way to clear the fog in my lifetime.

Hemstitch Dreamer

I am constantly dreaming of ways to capitalize on my domestic skills. During an entreprenuer fantasy the other night (while I was crocheting the edge of a receiving blanket), and after I'd recalled the painful experience earlier in the evening of driving across town looking for a half-decent fabric store that sells CUTE receiving blankets with a hemstitch (and was open beyond 6PM!), I had an epiphany. I should buy a hemstitch machine and sell receiving blankets, bibs, burp clothes and all the supplies (crochet needles, thread, patterns) one would need to create a crocheted wonder. I'd create an amazing website showcasing all the beautiful designer flannel fabrics for sale so the customer could mix, match and customize their blankets. Not only could the customer choose from a variety of designer fabrics, but I'd offer a number of crocheted-edge patterns that for a small fee, I'd create something very special by putting a crocheted edge on the blanket for the customer. My idea was playing out perfectly in my head. Suprisingly, this is one entreprenuer fantasy that Mr. G kind of supported. He usually rolls his eyes and tells me not to quit my day job (like my Happy Camper idea - which is not totally out of my e-fantasy, I'll have you know), but this time he offered up some advice and suggested I give it a try.


So today while my sissy and I were commiserating about our careers, I mentioned my idea (she's always my partner in crime). Of course she jumps online and immediately starts googling hemstitch machines. Too bad for me my bright idea isn't all that original. Of course there are several websites out there that already offer these services (mind you, my website would be way more upper class than any of those I found online), and the services were much cheaper than what I was planning to offer. To make matters more complicated, she informs me of the difficulties of actually finding a hemstitch machine to purchase and the price one would have to pay when a machine was found - prices ranging anywhere from $3,000 for a machine built, no lie, in 1895 and might work, or upwards of $10 - $15,000 for one brand new, plus shipping charges.

How many blankets would it take to break even? I still think it's a great idea, I just need to figure out how to make it better than what's already out there. Anyone want to sell me a hemstitch machine? How about any branding experts to make this not-so-original idea appear original? Call me.

Jack be Thimble

I started this quilt in October for my dear friend's new baby, Olivia. I made great head-way on the project until a major fabric debacle prompted a serious loss in motivation, leaving quilt squares sitting idle ever since. Baby Olivia was being blessed in church today, so I decided this was a good opportunity to get the quilt finished. I spent the better part of Saturday sewing and hand quilting (so Amish, but so worth it) to get 'er done. At 2:30 A.M. this morning I finished with quilting and after ditching 2/3s of my church meetings today got it bound and washed in time for the afterparty. Though the pattern is not what I had originally planned, I am quite happy with the final product. HJ loved it and I hope baby Olivia has many cozy days wrapped up in her quilt.

Week 8: Countdown to Delusional

Every week is another milestone in my 1/2 marathon training. Today = 11 miles. This was by far the most difficult run in my training so far. I ran in ok time (9 minute miles), and I never really felt like I was going to die, but it took FOREVER to go the distance and afterwards my body hurt more than usual. Definitely time for new shoes! I should probably eat a few power bagels before my run too - my muscles are screaming for fuel!