No Blood For Oil

But what about "Plasma For Food"?

Yes, in my quest for food storage, I've joined the ranks of college students and the homeless -- today I sold my plasma.

For those of you who haven't enjoyed this pastime, here's how it went:

I called up the nearest plasma center (yes, there are THREE in my town) and made an appointment and found out what all I had to bring.

Just before arriving, I made sure to eat lots of meat and drink plenty of fluids.

I arrived at the place and had to show them a photo ID, my social security card and proof of my address.

The last one was kind of tricky. Since my driver's license STILL has my sister Lorna's address on it, I had to bring in a postmarked envelope with my name and address on it. OK. Who writes letters anymore? I brought in my phone bill (no postmark since everything is "bulk mail" and it's listed under my husband's name), my pay stub (again, no postmark since they're handed to us), my mortgage statement (again, no postmark) and a letter from my mother (postmarked, but Dot is very formal and addressed it to "Mrs. Nigel," so it didn't count). My goodness, I live two blocks away! I offered to walk them to my home to prove where I live, but they weren't going for it. Finally they made copies of EVERYTHING and went with that.

Then there was a lot of waiting around.

They finally called my name and I was in a little room being quizzed on my traveling and sexual past (which luckily there's very little of either). Then they took my photo, my temperature, my weight, my blood pressure, and a sample of my blood (the iron level has to be at least 40 and mine was right on 40). Then they had THREE phlebotomists look at my veins and discuss whether they were too small or not (they decided they just might do).

Then more waiting around.

Then I was put in another little room being quizzed again about my traveling and sexual past. After being asked the same question 10 times, I began to wonder, "Maybe I have been to Equatorial Guinea. Maybe I have had a corneal implant. Maybe I did exchange money for sex since 1977." They did a physical on me (you know, the usual urine sample, reflex checks, listening to my heart and lungs, CHECKING FOR NEEDLE TRACKS BETWEEN MY TOES). My blood pressure had to be at least 100/60. Mine was 102/60. I'm telling you, I was just squeaking by all these exams.

Then more waiting around.

FINALLY, I got into the blood-letting room. The actual plasma donation was the quickest and least painful part of the whole ordeal. Just sit back, squeeze a ball, watch TV, read my book, etc. It was over much too quickly.

But, I got my 30 bucks (think of all the ramen noodles I can buy with that!) and I have a very lovely purple bandage on my arm.

Quasimodo's Revenge

If you happened to have been on BYU campus on Friday around noon, you would've heard some strange tunes coming from the carillon (yes, the infamous bell tower).

My nephew, Six, has been taking a carillon class this past semester (because he just has to take every weird class that's offered) and this was his big performance. We all met at the base of the tower (where his mother, Lorna, tried to take a picture of him with her tape recorder -- she gets crazier by the minute).

Those of us who didn't know better followed Six up the 105 steps up to the top (yes, we counted -- and we were very surprised that Jorge with his gimpy leg could make it up all 105!).

Six's first song was very pretty, but sounds vaguely familiar. Babs asks him the title. Six replies, "Tetris Theme A."

What? The theme music to a video game? Six is so weird. How can he possibly top that? Oh, just you wait.

Then he plays a few classical carillon tunes (for those of you who are bell tower groupies) and surprises us with a few modern favorites ("If I Were a Rich Man" from "Fiddler on the Roof" and "Moon River" from "Breakfast at Tiffany's").

Then he says, "This is for my brother, Fred."

And proceeds to play "Iron Man" by Black Sabbath.

Oh, he's going to the Standards Office for that one.

And then just to make sure he gets kicked out of the university, he finishes up with a rousing rendition of "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" by Iron Butterfly.

I'm telling you, I'll never be satisfied with "Come, Come, Ye Saints" again.

I've Been Tagged -- Again

ABC Blag

A- Attached or Single? Attached (but my earlobes are not).
B- Best Friend? guy: Nigel -- girl: I must admit that I haven't had a "call on the phone and talk for hours and go out to lunch every week" girlfriend since I've been married (though my sister, Lorna, is often dragged into those situations). I have lots of friends, but Nigel is my best buddy.
C- Cake or pie? Oh my goodness, it HAS to be pie. For my birthday? Pie. For Thanksgiving? Pie. For Christmas? Pie. I used to love Key Lime, but my body has revolted against all citrus. Chocolate cream or coconut cream is always good. Not into the fruit pies.
D- Day of choice? Tuesday (that's the only day I get off of work).
E- Essential Item? My budget paper that I keep in my wallet (I keep track of every penny -- I don't spend my money wisely, but I know where every cent goes).
F- Favorite Color? Pink
G- Gummy Bears or Worms? I hate all things gummy (or goomy as Gnat likes to say).
H- Hometown? Clover City, CA
I- Favorite Indulgence? Cadbury Cream Eggs or Pepperidge Farms Mint Brussels cookies.
J- January or July? July (I look forward to the Freedom Festival and Pioneer Day every year).
K- Kids? 3: Frances, Jeffrey, and Alice-Grace
L - Life isn't complete without? Old MGM musicals.
M- Marriage date? Dang coldest and windiest day to be outside taking photos while surrounded by turkey farms.
N- Number of brothers and sisters? 5 brothers: Clark, Spence, J.D., Henry and Stillwell; 3 sisters: Lorna, Myrna and Rena
O- Oranges or Apples? Peaches (always peaches).
P- Phobia and fears? Falling in the shower and knocking out all my teeth (Denturaphobia).
Q- Quote? "Mr. Green is Left-Handed" (graffiti at my high school).
R- Reason to smile? Seeing people trip (yes, I know that's horrible, but I can't help myself).
S- Season of choice? Fall (also known as pie baking weather).
T- Tag three people? Can I tranquilize and tag some wild animals instead?
U- Unknown fact about me? I went to junior high with the actor/musician Jack Black.
V- Vegetable? Green beans (the squeaky ones).
W- Worst habit? Biting my nails.
X-Ray or Ultrasound? I don't want to drink a bunch of water, so I'm saying X-ray.
Y- Your favorite food? Ginger's elk enchiladas (I can eat them every day of my life).
Z- Zodiac sign? "Keep Off The Grass"

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

Last night the doorbell rang at midnight. We were Secret Santa'd AGAIN! We had so many presents, it was amazing. Here I was talking about my kids getting overwhelmed with just three presents, now they each had about 10! I told the kids that Santa had to leave the presents on the porch because our fireplace was blocked by one of my nativity sets (I collect them).

My kids woke me up at 4:30 AM to open presents. I got them to wait until 5:30 AM. I then let them just look into their stockings until about 6:45 AM when Nigel got up.

We then had a great time opening presents. Frances opened all of hers first. Alice-Grace unwrapped some of hers, but didn't open all of the packages until later. Jeffrey, on the other hand, didn't finish opening his presents until 5:00 PM!!! It took him almost 12 hours to open his presents! He had to make each Lego creation and play with each Hot Wheel set before he would open the next gift. After a while, we all took naps and would wake to see him still opening presents! It was the never ending Christmas morning.

Then we went to Lorna's house and visited her family.

All in all, it was a great Christmas -- over the top -- but a great Christmas and one that we'll remember for years to come.

Oh, did I mention that I didn't have to go to work?

Christmas Spirit

I am way excited for Christmas.

Maybe it's because I don't have to work (either job), maybe it's because of all the gifts under the tree (that I didn't have to run out to buy), maybe it's because I'm loopy on Nigel's fondue (did he cook out all the wine?).

I think it's because we had a great Christmas eve of family, food and fun.

My brother and his wife (Henry and Julene) came to visit with their two adorable sons. Jeffrey was so excited to finally have some boys to play with. Lorna stopped by really quick. Our friend, Gayle, came to spend the holiday with us. We visited, ate cheese fondue, read the Christmas story, and everyone got to open one gift.

Oh, I'm so looking forward to tomorrow. Did I mention that I don't have to work?

Ladies Who Lunch

Sometimes my husband surprises me.

Like the time I commented briefly about how much I liked so-and-so's hair. For my birthday, he had called so-and-so, got the name of her hairdresser, made an appointment for a cut and color (back in the days when I did cut and color -- now I go gray and let Frances do the cutting), and paid for it.

I always complain that my favorite Mexican restaurant with the mango salsa no longer exists. He researched on the Internet and found another Mexican restaurant that served mango salsa. Then for my birthday, he arranged for my dearest friends and family to be at that restaurant for all of us to have a special lunch together.

There I was with my sister, Lorna, my nieces Babs and Ginger, and old friends, co-workers, and neighbors. What a great time we had. From the owner who refused to take our order ("No, you don't want that. You want this. No, this is much better. Don't order that.") to my friend talking about wanting a Prozac lick in her kitchen, to Lorna knowing a little TOO much about poison -- we laughed until our sides ached.

Thank you, Nigel, for making my birthday so special and for knowing that I needed that. Sometimes you just need a good lunch with your best girlfriends to realize how lucky you are.

In the Company of Women

I feel energized, rejuvenated, inspired. Why? Because of the company of women.

The other morning I went to a delicious breakfast celebrating the birthday of a woman we all love and adore (and seems to always weave her way in and out of my life). How wonderful that someone who has never met me would allow me into her home, cook breakfast for me, and then read a book aloud to the woman of honor that left us all in tears.

So many other women were there. Some I know very well, some I know as acquaintances, some I know through blogging, and some I only know because they know my sister, Lorna. It's a good thing that Lorna is totally awesome and loved by all who meet her, because it made them welcome me into their fold with open arms and open hearts.

What a fun time we had eating, talking, sharing, hitting a boot pinata with symbolic rolls of Christmas wrapping paper, invading a neighbor's home to see her Christmas decorations (which has since inspired me), and just being there to listen to each other's triumphs and foibles.

Sometimes in the madness of going to work, taking care of my children, avoiding cleaning the house, and supporting my husband in his endeavors, I lose sight of who I am. Thank you, women, for bringing that back to me.

I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille

Back in the early 50s, my father worked in TV. Even though he soon left that job to work as an electrical engineer, he still had some of that movie magic running through his veins.

It started with a Super-8 camera taking simple films of his growing family hanging up their stockings every Christmas eve. As the years went by, we couldn't just hang up our stockings, we had to have ever more elaborate skits that went with the hanging of the stockings. Regular lamps weren't good enough, my dad had these super bright spot lights that would blind us all as he would yell, "Open up your eyes!"

Lorna's husband, Jorge, proclaimed ours "The Cecil B. DeMille Christmases." Just like real film making, we had to wait forever for the lighting to be just right, we'd finally get our skit perfect and my dad would realize that he had the lens cap still on (or no film in the camera), and it would always go over time and over budget. I would half expect to see a couple of grips eating at the Crafts Services table in our living room with the way these productions would play out.

Then in the early '80s, we were introduced to video tape. SOUND. Just like the old silent movie era actors, we were kind of hesitant and some of our skits were still done with no sound. After a year or so, we used this new medium to showcase J.D.'s band or Rena's vocal lessons. Soon, all the neighborhood kids were also involved in our movies.

My favorite Christmas film was when the entire family was struck down with the stomach flu, but we still went on with the show -- with all the kids carrying pots around for barfing in.

Another good one was when Ardale went on and on about how proud he was of Spence and how much we miss him while he's on his mission. Then we hear Spence in the background say, "Don't you mean Henry?" Oh, you should've seen my dad's face on that one.

Just like in real life, we try our best to plan things out and control everything. And just like in real life, our favorite memories consist of the times when everything goes wrong.

Season's Greetings

I have a love/hate relationship with holiday newsletters. I love writing them, but I loathe copying them off, addressing the envelopes, and mailing them (to be perfectly honest, I still have some from last year that I haven't mailed yet -- sorry!).

Also, it seems that I'm sending these newsletters full of "fascinating" tidbits about my family's life to people who are either very much aware of what we've been up to all year or people who really could care less. So what's the point?

I have people that I send newsletters to only because they send me newsletters. Are they only sending me newsletters because I send them newsletters? It's a vicious cycle.

Also, what's the shelf-life on newsletters? Am I supposed to keep these things forever? What about the holiday photos? Keep the ones from family and throw away the others?

Rena got fed up with the stress of getting the "perfect" family photo, so last year she sent one that actually looks like her family (kids with eyes closed, looking in the wrong direction, and/or picking noses). Now that's a photo I'm going to keep!

I'm not a total Grinch. Some newsletters are great. I love Ben's "Holiday Holler" just because of the title -- I even disregard my newsletter/resume rule for it (if it's more than one page long, I don't read it). M-A's newsletters are always hilarious (and my last few have been copies of her style -- I hope she considers it flattery). I always look forward to my mother's newsletter to see how little she writes about me (She'll write three or four paragraphs on Lorna and I'll get something like, "Lois is still alive").

The best Christmas newsletter of all time was one that I received from my friend's mother. She fancies herself a poet and one year she wrote about finding a dead body in the dumpster behind her home -- all in iambic pentameter.

I was all for boycotting a newsletter this year and I almost had Nigel talked into it, but then Geo's husband brought over a huge box of art paper, including some in the loveliest shade of green which Nigel is now enamored with. He says that HE will do the Christmas newsletter. Now, if I can just find a dead body...

Aging Gratefully

TOP 5 REASONS WHY I'M LOOKING FORWARD TO GROWING OLD

1. Get to be the crazy old lady on the block wearing a housecoat with curlers in my hair holding a shotgun yelling, "Get the hell off my lawn!" to the neighborhood kids.
2. Get to make nonsensical comments in church every week (something along the lines of "My name is Cleo, but everyone calls me Honey because I'm so sweet" or "In 1953, President David O. McKay gave me a special assignment to help save the devil's soul").*
3. Get to wear crazy clothes and hats (because everything looks adorable when you're under 5 or over 85).
4. Get to give people odd gifts like nails attached to empty thread spools or bags of hair.**
   
5. Get to fulfill my dream of being one of those Super Bowl streakers (because who's going to tackle a naked old lady limping across the field with her walker?).

*Actual phrases oft repeated in sacrament meetings.
**Lorna got the empty thread spools -- I must admit it was my Jeffrey who gave our neighbor a bag of hair as a gift.

"The Cantaloupe Kept Rolling Off"

TOP 5 REASONS WHY MY MOTHER IS THE MOST HILARIOUS WOMAN ON EARTH

1. She played "The Spirit of God Like a Fire is Burning" while the congregation was exiting the church because someone lit the drapes on fire during the seminary graduation.
2. One year she gave away kittens as "treats" for Halloween.
3. At the age of 75, she's started violin lessons (and we thought she was nuts when she started banjo lessons at 40).
4. She's a "Beet Digger" and proud of it.
5. She planted corn on the roof of the house (When Lorna asked her why she planted corn on the roof, Dot replied, "Because the cantaloupe kept rolling off").

If you need any more reasons, check out October's "Watch It Jiggle?" and "I'm Boiling a Tongue" blogs.

CAR-nal Knowledge

I've come to the conclusion that all my money woes come from cars.

When I was first married, I had no problem keeping in my budget -- and I think it's because we didn't have a car. And I'm not talking about the cost of the car, insurance, gas and repairs. When you don't have a car, you can only buy as many groceries as you can carry. When you have to load up your dirty laundry in a duffel bag and walk for half an hour to get to the laundry-mat, you have no desire to buy more clothes. You can't even get to any place where you can spend your money.

Of course, we have been really lucky in the car department. Our first car was a loaner from my military brother, Spence, while he was stationed in Korea. When he got transfered back to the States, he very nicely let us keep it. FREE CAR! We loved that little car, but eventually we had three kids in car seats and no longer fit in a little two-door Toyota. We passed on his kindness and gave it to a family who desperately needed a car.

Then my sister, Rena, bought a new minivan and gave us her old one. ANOTHER FREE CAR! That was great until it kept dying on us (usually in the middle of an intersection or on train tracks) and no mechanic could figure out how to fix it. We donated that one to the Kidney Foundation.

My other sister, Lorna, then stepped up to the plate and gave us her old minivan. A THIRD FREE CAR! I mean, you can't beat that.

What will I do when this car dies? Well, I've got five more siblings...

Super (Supper) Club

So in my never ending quest to save money on food, we've started a Supper Club (I once accidentally typed it "super club" in an e-mail and that's what my husband constantly refers to it as -- that's what I get for making fun of his cake we got at the Mexican bakery that had "Hoppy Birthdoy" written on it). Every Saturday, me, my sister Lorna, and my nieces Babs and Ginger (and sometimes Molly when she's in town), each make a big dinner and then divide them up amongst ourselves. That way we have a variety of meals for almost the whole week.

I have to say that I love it. It actually makes me excited to go grocery shopping because I have a plan (instead of wandering the aisles moving things off and on the shelves -- yes, the can of peas in the diaper aisle? That's me). It makes me look forward to cooking and then I get to hang out with my wonderful sister and nieces.

Oh, and the food! It's been great. The best part is that Lorna goes totally nuts. She can't just give you one or two cookies with your meal, she has to give you a whole package! She doesn't just do a serving of lasagne, it's a whole pan full! Everyone should have a sister like her (me? I'm the slacker who willing sits back and receives -- it's not my fault she's an overachiever).

Seriously, this is the best thing ever. Not only do I stay in my food budget (of course, that's also thanks to Frances), but I get lots of delicious dinners ready to eat. Yum!