A Late Valentine's Day Post

Valentine's Day is a day generally for a lot of whining. There are a lot of single people that tag it "Single's Awareness Day" and dread its coming all year. They are upset and bitter that no one will be getting them flowers or chocolates or whatever. There are those males that hate that they are actually expected to do something for their significant other, or get them something. They are mad that they have to put the effort into it. There are Josh Olsons who despise the day and refuse to acknowledge it because it completely overshadows their February 13th birthdays. Then there's people like me.

Not that I love Valentine's, but I like it quite a bit. I do love that it is a day of sweet activities like this though:

"Phoenix – February 11, 2009 – Arizona Big Smooch on Saturday, February 14th from 10am-2pm. Its Valentine’s Day so there will be lots of kissing… why not set a record? We’ll be attempting to set the Guinness World Record for the most kisses received in one minute. Everybody that participates will be registered to win a romantic getaway to the Wynn Las Vegas. We’ll also attempt to set the Arizona record for the most people kissing simultaneously. It all happens on Valentine’s Day at Tempe Marketplace. The Guinness World Record attempt will be at 1:30p and the “Big Smooch” is set for 2pm."

I didn't go. But what a great idea.

I love that it is a day that people show each other how much they care. I love the thought of the dinners and dates that are enjoyed. I love that there are so many kisses given and the millions of babies conceived (like Adam and Levi and Tyler). I love the gifts that are given. I love the pictures that are taken. And I love that it is a day that people try to show each other how much they love them. There should probably be more days like that on the calendar.

Alterations

While i was helping Bridget pack up some of her things the other day, one of her roommates asked me if I would hem her jeans for her. I did. But while I had the sewing machine out I decided to attempt to alter one of my dress shirts. The problem with dress shirts is that most are only sized by the neck. They figure that all people with a 16.5" neck are the same size through the rest of their torso as well. I have thought about sewing darts before into my shirts, and decided I would give it a try finally. So I sewed four of them into the back of my shirt. And it fit great. But then I showed Christin and she informed me that it looked like a girl's shirt. She was right.






So back I went to the machine and decided to do two much longer ones. I also took up the sleeves not quite an inch and took the arms in a little more than an inch all the way down. And really, it turned out pretty good.

Learning to Cook Eggplant

An interesting thing happens when people find out that you like to cook occasionally. They suddenly think that you have this wealth of knowledge about all things in the culinary world. The thing is that since hosting our dinner parties, a lot of people put Christin and I into this category. I actually love this, regardless of if we belong there or not. It makes me feel very needed/special/smart.

My next point is Shirley Stock. Though I knew who Shirley was shortly after moving to the ward, I didn't really have a conversation with her until one of our dinner parties. Since I have known her though she really could not have been nicer to me and I'm glad that we're friends.

The other day I got a text from Shirley.
What do you think of eggplant? I'm considering making a dish tonight and I'm a little scared.

Now I have actually only made eggplant once or twice myself, with Christin telling me what to do. But I was certainly not going to let her down by informing her of this as she needed some helpful information. So I told her that I liked it and went on about cooking it like I knew what I was talking about.

The thing about Shirley is that she appreciates stuff. When I asked later how it went, she sent me this:
Our guests love loved it. They have more of a taste for eggplant. Mike and I liked it, but probably won't make again for a while. The potatoes were delicious, salad a tasty starter, and the cake was heavy but perfect with a little mug of milk. I love opportunities to use the china set I inherited.

She could have wrote back It was great, thanks. But instead she really let me know how it was. Maybe it's silly and maybe it's weird to blog about, but it was one of my favorite text messages that I have had for a while. And whoever needs to call and access my infinite archives of culinary knowledge, I will be more than happy to lie/pretend that I know what I am talking about.

Tomatina

It's too bad that there is a song about peaches but there have never been any chart topping hits involving tomatoes.

I mean, is there an event like this, anywhere, involving peaches? I think not.





If I go to Spain this summer instead of later in the year, I think missing this would be my only real regret.

Checking Back In

So I'll try to be better. Sorry for the few of you that do regularly read.

My Brother-In-Law Adam

. . . is a great guy. I've liked him since day one. I liked the stereo in his car, and it was so cool that he let me drive it a few times. I've always appreciated how much he loved my sister, and how much she loved him. He was probably the only person who really knew how I felt when I got in my motorcycle accident. He was a really big support to me. I've always been proud to have him as a part of my family.

We have a lot in common, but one of those things is not our love for exercise. That is actually what this post is about, not really about him at all (sorry Adam). I signed up for a weights class so that I could work out at school. You need to work out forty hours to get an "A" in the class. I think that I am almost at nine hours for the semester. And I feel like I am going A LOT. I just really don't like the gym that much . . .

Nothing Like the View From the Cheap Seats

Evey once in a while I either find out about things or participate in things that make me appreciate Arizona a little more than I already do. One of those things is Spring Training. Though I knew Spring Training was a big deal here, I never went to a game. In fact, I wouldn't have gone this year except for the persuasion of my father. Last Wednesday he came down from Bullhead City and spent the next two days with me. After I got off a school Thursday we got in the car and after an exciting forty-five minute drive, we made it to Goodyear Stadium.

The thing about me is that sometimes I forget how much I like something until I am around it again. Baseball is one of those things. I love it. I love the fields, and how they cut the grass. I love walking through the crowds to your seat, and the little boys carrying their baseball gloves that are there with their dads. I love getting up in between innings to wait in line for overpriced concessions (and hot dogs with barbecue sauce and a slice of bacon on them at this particular stadium). I love singing "take me out to the ball game" during the 7th inning stretch. I love listening to the old guys behind you talk about how a certain player isn't pulling his weight and what they would do better if they were coach. I love talking about how you want a foul ball and how the guy by third base got two in a row. I love how Larry the usher let us sit in the closest seats to the dugout.

I could go off about the game, and how much I love that. But the game is such a small part of the experience. There is a reason why they call it America's pastime.

I love that I got to go to that game with my dad, and that a love for baseball will be something that we will always share.