attempts at Valentine's Day festivities

Our classic pesto-tomato-mozzarella pizza with a romantic twist . . . 

and let's not forget the so-appropriate pizza slicer. (Lest ye think that I'm super festive, I should point out that we received this apparatus as a gift from Tim's step-mom, Joleen, a while back. It's never felt better to use it than today, though.)

our new-to-us car

About a month ago, we purchased a new car. Say hello to [insert name here].

Why yes, that is a car seat. We don't have a baby yet, but we did purchase a car seat and wanted to make sure it would fit okay in the car. And then we left it there because it seemed like as good of a place as any to store.

It wasn't exactly a planned purchase. Our dear Jetta had started acting up (again) and we decided it was time to give up on that blasted vehicle once and for all. We had taken it into the shop two days before Christmas because the engine had been completely disengaging. They recommended clutch replacement, a costly fix. (Merry Christmas!) We wondered if it was worth it to pay so much to fix a 2003 VW Jetta with 97000 miles on it, but we figured we'd go for it and just hope the Jetta ran perfectly for us for many more thousands of miles. 

A couple of weeks later, the same problem started recurring. Instead of occurring intermittently, though, the problem left us stranded when we were visiting Tim's mom. She helped us tow it back to the shop. This time, they found problems with the fuel injection system. They knocked 50% off the cost of the fix due to the misdiagnosis, but we were told the clutch had been quite worn out and needed to be replaced, even if it wasn't the specific cause of the problems we were experiencing. As the Jetta was refusing to run at this point, we had little choice but to go ahead with the repairs.

It's too bad we went through that series of repairs, though, since we decided to trade it in after that and get something that would hopefully be much more reliable. The cost of the repairs wasn't really offset by the trade-in value we received. But the Jetta has sort of always felt like a time bomb. Ever since Tim bought it, it's had quirky issues and generally been a finicky car. So it was a relief to be rid of it. 

I was convinced we should get a Honda Civic, a car with a reputation for reliability, perhaps because of the strained relationship we'd developed with the Jetta. So we landed a 2008 Civic with about 35000 miles on it. 

Buying a car felt like a rite of passage for me since I've never made such an adult purchase in my life. It was stressful! I don't really like cars, mechanics, shopping, spending money, or adult responsibility in general. But we made it through okay and hopefully it was a good decision. Cross your fingers this car will last for us.

  

Temple Square lights

Two months is how long it's been since I pulled out my camera, apparently. Yowza.

toxic sugar

You may have seen some publicity recently given to an article published in the journal Nature about how bad sugar is for our health. This isn't really news to us: we did a "sugar fast" back in the summer based on this same idea.



We watched this (long) video on YouTube over the weekend. I didn't really follow most of it (too much science!), but I got the main picture. Fructose = bad.

Despite today being a holiday celebrated by the consumption of sweets, our commitment to avoid added sugars has been renewed. We're avoiding fruit juice as well. But the video also made me think that fatty foods have been overly demonized, so bring on the butter (in moderation, of course).

anal puncture

Tim and I were just discussing practicing some of the techniques we've learned at birth class so far.

Tim: We could go over some of that um . . . anal puncture stuff.
me: Anal what?
Tim: ACUPRESSURE! I meant acupressure.

storytime

A little while ago, we got together with our friends Kristen and Kevin and spontaneously decided to compose ten-minute stories based on a topic someone else in the group came up with. At first not everyone was enthused about the prospect, but in the end, we were all glad we did it, I think. It was fun and provided some interesting variety to our regular activities (i.e., eat food, talk, play games). 

Tim spent a little longer than ten minutes on his story because it was taking him so long to regress his writing skills. But it was worth the wait. See for yourself:

Transcription:

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My name is Richy I am 5. One time I road on an air plane it was neat. I looked out the window and saw cloud and the ground. A lady brought me some milk. She said I was a good boy. Her name was Pauline and she was nice. Later Pauline sat next to me on the plane. Her breath smelled funny. She said she was from Detroit and she lived with her mom like me and before that she lived with Steve with was such a sweety but is really a piece of good for nothing trash with that fluzy Candice and Pauline keept drinking something in a paper bag. Then she got up but kept falling down. Then a man named Marshall put bracelets on Pauline and sat next to her. Now Mom won't let me fly alone.

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My story wasn't very funny. The topic Kevin came up with for me was "talking horse is about to be euthanized," and you know, euthanasia is a hard topic to make funny beyond saying that a talking horse is about to be euthanized. It's funny at first. We could've stopped there if we wanted the humor to live on, but instead I wrote a depressing story that made Kristen think about neglecting her innocent baby.

Transcription:

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The veterinary clinic was dark and cold when Bobby, the talking horse, arrived on the morning of January 23 [oh hey, it's weird I'm blogging about this on January 23 . . . completely unplanned]. He didn't know what he was coming in for, exactly. But the ranchers who owned the field he grazed on were concerned about him and had decided to take him in to the clinic. Every time the ranchers visited the horses to stack more hay bales for them or to fill their troughs, they skirted around Bobby as if he were diseased. Bobby sometimes trotted over to engage them in conversation, but their reaction was always the same as the other horses—they'd eye him suspiciously and pretend not to understand what he was saying. Bobby was pretty sure he wasn't sick, but he was at least grateful to escape the ostracizing field. Maybe someone in the clinic would hear him out. When they arrived, though, the ranchers led Bobby inside and turned to exit almost immediately. The heavy doors clunked behind their disappearing footsteps. Bobby noticed the sterile smell and felt curious—what was going to happen to him? Metal instruments clanged in a muffled way from the next room. Bobby neighed and called "Hello?" uncertainly. Finally a vet emerged wearing a white lab coat. The vet greeted Bobby warmly and Bobby felt assured. He'd finally be heard.

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the apps are in!

The PhD applications are submitted! Actually, they have been for a while, but this is the first the blog's heard about it. Where we'll be come August is entirely up in the air at this point (no one has sent letters begging Tim to come to their school and offering him money to do so . . . yet), but it could be one of the 9 cities pinned in the picture above (west-east/north-south: Seattle, Washington; Eugene, Oregon; Davis, California; Berkeley, California; Santa Barbara, California; Los Angeles, California; Lubbock, Texas; Austin, Texas; Houston, Texas). And if the PhD thing doesn't work out, Plan B could place somewhere else entirely, maybe even plant us in Utah longer. The possibilities! The uncertainty!

If you could have your pick of any of these cities, where would you go to live for the next three to five and some-odd years?