La Caille. Finally.

I knew I'd done things worth blogging about since June 19th... There was the Arts Fest and 4th of July fireworks on the 5th of July...

But the thing I was logging on to mention today was my first trip to La Caille. Crystal ran a contest for hors-d' ouevres and dessert, and Annie, Sarah, and I qualified. In almost 18 years of living in Salt Lake City, I had never even pulled onto the driveway leading up to the restaurant. Its beautiful! We were seated on the patio, where peacocks, ducks, and a rooster just roam around while you eat. There were baby ducks and baby peacocks that were so cute. The grown-up peacocks were a little intimidating, though - one even helped himself to the bread in our bread basket.

And I tried escargot. I was really hesitant. I mean, it looked like tar coming out of the shell. But, taste...delicious. Still, consistency...disgusting. If I'm ever offered escargot again, I'm thinking consistency might win. But I tried it, and that's all that matters.

June 19th???

I seriously haven't blogged since June 19th??? I don't think its for lack of blog fodder. I'm sure I've been doing stuff worthy of reporting. Maybe I've been distracted by twitter. Although I haven't tweeted in a while either. Huh. I don't know. But I can be better. I think.

Like, today, for example, I volunteered for the Food Co-op. That was fun. I met Aimee at the warehouse, loaded my trunk with meat, and took it to the park. We unloaded the cars, and then went down the line of food to build the shares. It was a much sweatier job than I anticipated. But I really enjoyed it.

My favorite part was the following conversation:

aimee: Hi. What's your last name?

maeve: Knickerbocker.

aimee [shocked]: Really??? Do you know Jessica???

maeve: I'm Maeve.

aimee: Oh my gosh. I'm so embarrassed. I mean, I knew I knew all of the Knickerbockers. I couldn't believe there was another one in Salt Lake City.

This was right after I was kissing on Miles in the line. I mentioned to Aimee that I was sure she had seen that. She said that she noticed the line was getting a little riled up, thought I was just providing excellent customer service and easing any tension by kissing all the babies. I mean, it does sound like a good tactic.

Afraid

I think when you smile like this in your mugshot, it makes you even scarier.

Bummer(s)

It all started with this egg. I dropped it.

I dropped it right on the edge of the kitchen mat. I guess there could be worse places to drop an egg. At least this way I could fold the mat like a taco and pour the egg into the sink. I almost made it to the sink. Almost. At the end of my approach, about four feet from the floor, the stupid yolk just rolled on off the mat and splattered.

Dammit. I hate cleaning.

I dealt with that situation, finished up with my cookie dough, and searched high and low for the cookie sheet. In the drawer under the oven... In the cabinet with the pots and pans... In the dishwasher... (Dave wouldn't put the cookie sheet in the dishwasher, would he?) Then it occurred to me, I had been pre-heating the oven and it smelled like something was cooking. The day before yesterday, we used the cookie sheet to make asparagus. I bet the cookie sheet never got cleaned, and is pre-heating in the oven. So I washed a 375 degree cookie sheet with a brush and a potholder.

Fast forward a couple of hours. Our marketing event at the training center was fun. The cookies were a big hit. Crystal sent me home with two leftover pizzas and a 2-liter of root beer. I went outside into a torrential downpour. I stepped off the sidewalk and the water in the parking lot rushed over the top of my shoes and filled them with water. Delicious.

I got home about 20 minutes later, after having blown my feet dry with the heater, and was lugging my two bags, two pizzas, 2-liter of root beer, and empty cookie platter up the stairs when I tripped. I fell. Luckily I was far enough up the stairs for the pizzas and platter to land on the top step without much turmoil. The root beer rolled across the porch. I hit my forearms on the concrete stairs. I laid there hoping Dave heard me and would come out and help me up. Then I wondered if I really wanted Dave to see me lying on the stairs. So I started getting up just as Dave came out to see what the ruckus was about. Great. Best of both worlds.

The worst must be over, right? I am in jammies, after all.

Babies! For Real This Time!

Remember the baby ducks I saw in my backyard? And how I thought they were gone forever? I was on my morning walk the other morning, and happened upon the whole family! Look how cute and fuzzy they are!Daddy duck even came out for this stroll, although he was none too happy with me, and kept his distance. Whatever.

Road Rage

Dear Other Drivers on the Freeway,

We're all in a hurry, right? But if you could just back off a little bit, I would greatly appreciate it. I don't know if you realize this, but I can only go as fast as the car in front of me. And I'm not totally convinced that putting my front bumper into their trunk is going to encourage them, or anyone in front of them, to speed up. I know it doesn't work on me. I mean, when you come right up behind me and ride my ass, I'm actually inclined to slow down even more. Reason being, I like to provide myself (and you, if I have to) with some reaction time, so that if something unfortunate does happen, I don't literally put my front bumper into someone's trunk. I've been on the receiving end of that ordeal, and it really wasn't cool.

On top of that, if I am going too slow for you, may I point out that there are at least two more lanes to the left of us in which you can pass me. So feel free to change lanes before you get dangerously close to me, and then go ahead and rush by. I'm cool with that.

Thank you,
Jessica

Paragliding

A couple of weeks ago I was heading down to Draper to make a delivery. I had to get off at the 14600 South exit. As I was exiting the freeway, I noticed a whole bunch of paragliders. I knew they jumped off the mountain down there, but I didn't realize that like 20 of them went at once. I don't get down that way very often.
As I was getting to my customers house, I realized how close she lives to the top of the paragliding mountain.Then I realized that I could go into the neighborhood across the street from her neighborhood and be right underneath of them.
Part of the sky was blue. Part of the sky was gray. The sun was getting ready to go down and was bouncing off their parachute thingers in the most beautiful way. It was amazing.Who knew paragliding could be so gorgeous and mesmerizing?

For the record, this did not make me want to try paragliding. But I'd watch it again.

What's Making Me Smile

I got this thing in the mail from Select Health. They're doing dental insurance now. They're also doing a photo contest and they're giving away prizes each week. I love prizes, so I though, "What the heck. I'll enter." The theme is "What Makes You Smile?" and in light of this beautiful weather and dreams of walking on the beach, I picked this photo. Pretty please go here and vote for it as your favorite! You can vote once per day. And then something good will happen to you because, you know, karma.

My Life as a Laborer

My friend Alicia was recently telling me that she and her husband wanted to get their garage painted. She said that her husband had found these "laborers" who were willing to work for a case of beer. I suggested that anyone willing to work for a case of beer, current friends excluded, could be a little bit questionable. I jokingly threw out an "I'll paint your garage."

Well, half-jokingly.

Well, not at all jokingly.

A couple of days after that conversation, Alicia called and said, "How serious were you about painting our garage? We'll pay you. Money, not beer." So I spent today with Alicia, working hard for my money. She and her husband watched at first. I taped. I edged. Then we all worked together to roll. Garages are big, and garage ceilings have lots of lights and plugs and garage door contraptions that you have to edge around while standing on a ladder with your head tilted back and your arm straight up. It was fairly exhausting. I mean, its 7:57 right now, and bedtime can't come fast enough.

But you know what? I enjoy painting. I would totally do it again next weekend. You know, if you have a room that needs painting.* Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

*Compensation negotiable. :)

No Sleep For Me

[Spoiler Alert: Stop reading this post if you DVRed "Two and a Half Men" and you prefer not to know the general gist before watching it.]

Dave and I were watching tonight's "Two and a Half Men." Alan was teaching himself to talk like a ventriloquist and he had this uber creepy dummy he named Danny. He and Danny were always wearing the same outfit. Which was funny. For a second. Danny was threatening to kill Charlie. Which was creepy. It was by far the creepiest "Two and a Half Men" I've ever seen. I even told Dave I was concerned about my quality of sleep tonight because Danny was so terrifying.

Funny guy that Dave is...about an hour later my phone beeps letting me know I have an email. Dave excitedly was like, "Someone emailed you! Who emailed you?" He does that everytime my phone beeps, so I didn't really think anything of it. I popped open my email and there's a message from him with the subject line, "SEE YOU TONIGHT!" I was like, "You emailed me!" I opened the email and screamed when I saw this photo:Oh my god! I mean, for real! Look how scary it is. And its limbs are all twisted and disgusting. Dave assures me that this is the least creepy photo he found. I cringed as he described the close-up photos of the dummy heads. I squirmed as he asked, "I wonder what it would feel like to be gnawed at with those wooden teeth."

I wonder if I'll ever sleep again.

Babies in My Backyard

On Friday, a mama duck and 10 baby ducks walked past our deck. At first I was paralyzed by cuteness. Then I wanted a picture of them. But then I realized my camera battery was dead. So I thought about using my phone, but I knew my phone wouldn't do those babies justice. I plugged in my camera and went to bed, confident that the babies would be back tomorrow. I've been watching and praying all weekend, but all I got are these guys. Fine then.

Rock Bottom

I've always been one of those people who believes that Walmart is the evil empire. One day Dave suggested trying our grocery shopping there, and since he buys the groceries, I figured I didn't have a lot of room to argue. Turns out, the commercials are true - their prices really are unbeatable.

The other day I stopped on my way home to pick up razors and ice cream. I was on my way from the razor aisle to ice cream aisle, and passed the purse department. In a moment of major weakness, I veered in. You see, I got this awesome purple hobo from Brad and Maeve for Christmas, but the inside zipper pocket has since developed a hole situation, and anything you put in there ends up under the lining in the depths of the bag. So I've been thinking about looking for a new bag anyway, but with limited financial resources, I haven't been sure where to look.

Remember Walmart's unbeatable prices? I actually saw a bag I really liked. Oh god. Its mustard colored with pink lining and silver accents. It has two compartments, big enough for even my calendar and some file folders. It has two inside zipper pockets. And I love an organized bag. The straps are long enough that I can toss it over my shoulder without it getting hung up on my elbow. Its cute! And only $15!

But then it hit me. "Jessica Leigh! You are looking at purses at Walmart! Walmart is ghetto. This must be what rock bottom feels like."

I'm not too much of an impulse shopper anyway. I see something I think I like, I try it out, I hem and haw, I go home and sleep on it. If I'm still thinking about it the next day, I consider going back to buy it.

In the case of the Walmart purse, I was still thinking about it two days later. So I told myself that if I sold at least $100 at my Saturday skin care class, I could go back and buy it. As luck would have it, I sold almost twice my appointed goal. And as double luck would have it, when I got back to Walmart, the purse was marked down to $10.

The point is, if you see me walking around with a fab mustard-colored hobo bag, yes, I bought it at Walmart, and no, I don't want to talk about.

Thank You, Kate Gosselin

There are cows near my j.o.b. The other day I noticed there are babies. Baby cows are so dang cute!!

But they got me wondering. Is it ok to think those baby cows are so dang cute, even though I don't feel remotely bad about the fact that I will likely meet them again someday...at Crown Burger.

That very night I was watching Jon & Kate Plus 8. The Gosselins were going to visit an organic farm. They took a tractor ride all around the farm, fed the chickens, and visited the cows. Kate was soooo excited about the baby cows and was going on and on about how cute they are.

Then she bought half a cow to take home and stick in their freezer. I felt so validated.

Freeway

I la-la-la love spring driving. Love. I feel very zen on the freeway with all of my windows down, wind whipping my hair in all directions, sun kissing my skin through the open sun roof, Pat Benatar's "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" blaring. Two days in a row. Its fantastic.

Bald = Rich

When Brad and I were kids in California, Mom used to take us to the beach every Wednesday. If you've ever been to L.A., you know that no matter which direction you're going, no matter what time of day, the freeway system is happy to provide you with ample time to kill. Brad and I came up with some theories.

One of them had to do with rich dudes and convertible cars. Something along the lines of bald dudes are obviously rich, because rich people drive convertibles, and the wind whipping through your hair clearly must have some sort of affect on how much hair you keep. Right?

Well, obviously. Today I was on I-15 and I saw two dudes riding in a fancy convertible. Guess what. Both bald.

Observations From South Jordan

Today I took a field trip. I wanted to get some fake gerber daisies for the Mother's Day gift sets I'm putting together. The Mary Kay ladies said that you can't get a better deal than at the Hobby Lobby in South Jordan. I was doing a skin care class at our studio in Sandy today, and figuring that South Jordan wasn't too far from Sandy, I ventured to the Hobby Lobby.

The Hobby Lobby is at 11800 South and 3600 West. Its far. I can honestly say I've never been to that part of the valley before. You know what? The houses there are HUGE. And they all have motor homes and horse trailers parked outside. I even saw a house that looks like a castle. But my favorite was this giant log cabin with a porch swing and horses in the back yard. It looked so cozy.

I also found out that South Jordan has a Pie. And a Market Street. And other things that used to be downtown specialties. And the plane that advertises for the Bees was flying around out there. And I realized that the banner that the plane pulls is like 8 times the size of the plane itself. Which made me wonder how in the heck the plane takes off and lands. I'd like to see that some time.

My Buddy & Me

I babysat Miles the other night. He walks now, so we spent about 45 minutes walking around the house, playing "I'm Gonna Get You." Then he got tired and cried. Through his bedtime snack. Through bath time. Through the lotion rub down. Through getting dressed in jammers (especially through getting dressed). Through Brown Bear, Brown Bear and Oops. For some reason Clifford calmed him down. And he helped by turning all the pages. I love the little guy. I mean, look how cute we are together.

Read This if You're Shopping For a New Phone Plan

I use T-Mobile, and I like them. They're offering new customers a free Blackberry Pearl just for signing up. If you do it, tell them I sent you. I get a deal, too. Just throwing it out there... :)

Skiing Makes My Calves Hurt

I'm clomping around like a zombie or a mummy or whatever clomps when it walks. Bending my knee and rolling my foot forward, like a normal walk, is excruciating.

But we picked the most beautiful day to ski! The sun was shining, the sky was the most amazing blue, the snow was just the way I like it, the company was super fun, and my post-lasik eyes were amazing!!!

It was the Knickerbocker-Johnston Ski Day on Saturday. Dad treated Brad, Maeve, Carly, Ian, Kelsey, and I to a great day at Brighton. Brad skied for the first time since sixth grade, and was actually quite good. (He learned by watching the internet. What else is new?) Kels was skiing for only the second time ever and she did great! I also loved getting to spend some time getting to know her and Ian a little better.

And of course its always so fun to spend the day with my Dad! Thanks so much, Dad! Let us know when you post those photos!

The Dream About Munchos

What is it about me and dreams about junk food? No, Travis, I am NOT pregnant. But I did have a dream about Munchos. Do you guys know Munchos? Man, they're good. They're the only chip I remember being in our house when I was younger and we lived in California. And then we moved to Utah. Munchos are hard to come by in Utah. Dad found a gas station somewhere that sells them, so he buys three or four bags at a time and then hides them in a top secret hiding place in the kitchen cabinet where the salad bowls and platters are. Well, I guess its not that top secret.

Anyway. The dream. I dreamt I was with Brad and we were going to a party, or an open house, or something in our old hood down by Brighton High School. It was at this huge house and there were all these people milling through. We wandered down this curving staircase and ended up alone in a basement where there was a vending machine. It was weird. But we were so happy because the vending machine had Munchos in it. Only, they weren't the Munchos we're used to. They were orange, like Cheetos, and cone-shaped, like Bugles. But still in that shiny orange/gold bag that screams deliciousness. And still salty and potato-y and delicious. Mmm.

Our Neighbor is SO Loud

Treading lightly is not a talent that Stompy McStomperson possesses.

The crazy thing is, I've lived here for almost four years, and I've never heard anyone upstairs. Until Stompy. He made me feel really bad because for three years, I've been obliviously stomping myself over Downstairs Jess without the faintest clue that my floor / her ceiling is not soundproof. I mean, I never heard Vern when he lived up there. Not a peep.

Stompy moved in shortly after Dave did, and I swear he's gotten progressively louder since he got here. Its like he doesn't own a chair. He walks back and forth and back and forth and back and forth for hours and hours. Sometimes he has people over. People who have a kid. A kid who is particularly loud. My god. This weekend, he had multiple people over. Two adults and THREE kids. I don't mean like little kids. I mean like pre-teens. Big boys who are are big and loud.

We started developing some theories about what Stompy might be doing up there:

• He is serving his guests tea. From the kitchen, past the dining room, to the living room. One guest at a time.
• He's teaching dance lessons.
• He's playing track and field on a Wii.
• He's learning capoiera.

You know what I just remembered? One day we ran in to Stompy outside, and he asked if we could here him. He asked! And we were flat out honest. "Yes actually. Every step." You would think he would try to tread lightly. Or at least lighter. Huh. I forgot all about that. Man alive.

Published

A while back I found an email in my flickr account letting me know that the Schmap Guide people had found one of the photos Dave and I took when we were in Seattle in July. They wanted to know if it would be ok to submit our photo for inclusion it their soon-to-be-released Seattle guide. I said, "What the heck."

Today I found an email in my flickr account letting me know that our photo was chosen to be included! Pretty rad, right? Check out the guide here - our photo is the one of the Victoria Clipper.

Now, the Schmap people asked how I'd like the credit credited. There wasn't enough space to put both of our names. There wasn't even enough space for a space between my first name and last name. To be totally honest, I couldn't remember who took which pictures on our trip. It was months ago, and I can barely remember the things that happened last week. So since the photo was on my camera and then posted on my flickr, I went ahead and put my name.

Just now I went over to the couch and said, "Look babe! One of our Seattle pictures was selected to be included in the Schmap guide!" Dave said, "I took that photo. That's your name." I explained the space issue and he said, "So what you're saying is David Oakley would have fit perfectly." Hmph. So I'm officially giving all the credit to Dave. Unless you only read the Schmap guide without ever seeing this blog. Then I get all the credit.

The point is, I'm published.

I Keep Meaning to Blog...

I have been meaning to blog for a while.

I was inspired by my mom's cute post about the things she loved about Christmas. It made me want to tell all of you blog readers about the things I loved about Christmas...like my G1 (thanks love!) and my Classic Cardy Uggs (thanks mom & dad!) and my big purple purse (thanks brad & maeve!)... I mean, I got some great gifts this year!!

Then I was thinking I should blog about some New Years resolutions. Like washing my face every night by 10:00 so that its always done before I get too tired. And not doing anything Mary Kay related on Sundays - Sundays should be for reading and lounging. And blogging more often - you know, like as soon as I think of something to blog about.

Now that I can hold the internet in my hand at all times, thanks to the best boyfriend ever and the aforementioned G1, I really have no excuse. So stay tuned!