The Par-tay

Remember when C&B got married a few months ago? And then there was a big party in a walnut grove by a pumpkin patch? And I kept saying I would put up pictures of it? But I haven't yet? And even the wedding photographer had all her pictures up and ready to go and stuff at least a month ago (way before me)? Well. Good news and bad news. Good news: pictures are here! Bad news: there are probably more here than you ever wanted to see. Again, sorry that they're in single-file style. Someday I'll learn how to format things better.

When I say the reception was in a walnut grove I mean it was IN a walnut grove.

Okay some of these photos were not at the reception location, but clearly we were already celebrating in our hearts.

The wedding party. Looking very...wedding appropriate yet casual enough to engage in a little bocci ball later.

Getting tips for their own upcoming nuptials.

If you provide candy, they will come.

It's hard to tell who's winning in this intense game of bocci, but I'm definitely liking Kim's technique.

Bouquet by Kalea

C&B leaving the par-tay to wild applause

D tries to burn the grove down, has second thoughts, makes a feeble attempt to put out the fire and then walks away. But I should just let you watch it.

Roommates

I realized the other day that I've had 29 different roommates over the last ten(ish) years. Yes. I actually sat down and listed them out. For curiosity's sake. And I only forgot the last names of three of them. And yes, for those three I turned to facebook in an effort to, I don't know, search their first names and see if a last name that rang a bell popped out. But there are a lot of girls named Kristy.* Search unsuccessful.

Anyway 29 roommates. And of those 29, I only knew/was friends with/was related to eight of them prior to living with them. That means I lived with 21 people without knowing a thing about them before sharing a refrigerator and a bathroom with them. What can I say, I'm a risk taker. And I count myself pretty darn lucky that I haven't been traumatized by any of them. There were no psychos, no one who constantly cooked smelly food, none who stole money from me (I don't think?), and none who tried to kill me in my sleep.

Some were more fun than others of course, and there was that girl who didn't like that I breathed. Not, like, mouth-breathed or snored or something. Just breathed at all. I only lived with her for a month but I'm pretty sure it was the hardest month of her young life. At least that's how she always acted around me. Luckily she eventually married a sailor and I think she's fine now. I don't know, shockingly we don't keep in touch. ...Maybe I should try to find her on facebook.

I also had a roommate who would hide her food in random places. She was one of those who managed to stay skinny no matter what she ate so she'd bake a cake or a batch of cookies, eat half of the cake (or the cookies) for dinner and then hide the other half in her secret spots around the apartment. My other roommate discovered these secret hiding places and would, naturally, help herself to the goodies. We had a strict "finders keepers" policy. And no, she didn't share her spoils with me. I only found out later that she'd been stealing the hidden food. So. Greedy.

Anyway overall I've been really lucky with roommates. A lot of them have become really good friends. We've gone on road trips together, they've taken me surfing in Hawaii, they've accompanied me on my dates to ward talent shows (awkward but kind of hilarious in retrospect), we've spent entire winters snowboarding, they've tried to straighten my hair, they've written and sung songs to me for my birthday, and they've entertained me by losing all sorts of bets and having to perform various tasks (like wearing just a bathing suit around the apartment complex and asking random guys if they wanted to go hot tubbing). What. I was just trying to teach them the ills of gambling. Mission accomplished I believe.

In a couple weeks I will have a brand new roommate. Except my new roomie is someone I've lived with before so, although I look forward to living with her again (despite the fact that when we were in 5th grade we agreed after a week of fighting brought on by her vicious libel and slander - yes, both - she would write ridiculous accounts of our evenings in her class journal and then read them aloud during the sharing portion of class. ...I think most of the stories involved me speaking like one of Tiger Lily's tribe), she's not technically my 30th roommate. No, lucky 30 is still up for grabs.

This is the part where I should make some hopeful wish that it'll be a boy (i.e. husband - not someone with whom I'm just living in sin) but that feels weird. Maybe because I'm too old to make a sarcastic remark like that and have the family members who read my blog not think "aw, sad. She's trying to hide her pain. Lets set her up with someone we know. What about that guy you met on the subway? The one who looked kind of homeless? What was his name? Dusty buns?" (just kidding Ben, you can set me up with someone who has a nickname that reminds me of dust bunnies anytime). So in lieu of being sarcastic, my comment about hoping to have my 30th roommate be more like an eternal companion would have to be serious (or semi-serious). And that seems...odd. For a blog. For this blog. So lets just avoid speculation as to who lucky roommate 30 will be and I'll just check back in when that person moves in. In the meantime, welcome back roommate 29. Thanks for saving me from breaking my good-luck-with-roommates streak with an unknown 30th. I owe you.

*I'm not even entirely sure her name was Kristy. But I think it was. It was something like that. I remember she twirled batons to that Disneyland Electric Parade song. (does that count for anything?) She was really good actually.

Christmas Break 2009

Before I continue on with the C&B reception photos (coming soon 2010), may I take a moment to lay out my new years resolutions. Ha, just kidding. Although it seems appropriate to have a post about the new year or goals or reflections on how last year went I'm not in a goal setting mood. It's too early in the year for that. Plus in talking with Malinda's mom apparently it's a better idea to start your new life in line with the new moon. And the new moon isn't until sometime mid-month. So wahoo! No sense in starting a goal now when it would clearly be doomed to failure.

Christmas break has been grand. And by "break" I mean "day." One of the drawbacks to employment (usually outweighed by receiving a regular paycheck so it's not like this is a big problem) is that you're expected to work during weekdays. Including Christmas Eve, Hanukah, Kwanza (sp?), New Year's Eve, etc. So, while the traffic is significantly lighter during the weeks of the holiday season and therefore the drive to work is much more endurable, also you're thinking "I would trade in this light traffic to work to be like everyone else and not have to drive in at all during the holiday season."

Anyway since Christmas fell on a Friday this year it DID feel kind of like a miniature vacation to have a three day weekend. Extended into a four day weekend when I decided to throw caution to the wind and take the next Monday off as well. Let the good times roll.

So we did the usual Christmas vacation things: we watched several movies in the theater, had a volleyball tournament, played Rummikub, fixed puzzles, reenacted the nativity story (actually I slept through that - but I know it happened because I saw the video and yes, I'm sleeping on the couch in the video and yes, I enjoyed watching the baby Jesus repeatedly try to get Mary to smell his feet), watched football, went to the batting cages and consumed large amounts of food. I guess not all of those things were "usual." The volleyball tournament was the first of it's kind. We often play volleyball but not usually with such intensity and determination to win. ...Or at least not usually on such a nice court. We had only one injury (and it wasn't Grandpa) and we ended the tournament with pizza so I think it has to be categorized as a success. At least for those of us who remained uninjured and full of pizza. Also we discovered that Chris is a pretty great volleyball player. While we already had heard of his successful "feats of strength" career, there was no way to know for sure if such skills would translate over to volleyball. Well they do. That guy can jump. And with a few last minute instructions from Bryn ("go up to the net when the ball is on their side, when it comes back over back up and get ready to hit") he was all set. Now he just has to work on his Rummikub skills. muah-ha-ha-ha-ha.

What else? We tried spooner boarding down the iceplant stuff in the backyard. It doesn't work as well on those plants as it's supposed to on sand, snow or grass but it was still fun. Plus mom did it (sitting down of course - lets not get crazy) and broke the distance record set 5 minutes earlier by Kayla so clearly it was all worth it.

There were other things that happened too. But I don't remember them right now. I DID get lots of presents from Santa and that was exciting. So was my stocking - chock full of nuts (which I could crack myself - you appreciate it more when you work for it), a tiny game of Sorry and, of course, an orange. Score.