Hate Mail from my Blog

Dearie Becca: a note from your blog.  I know you are in jolly old England, probably having a tea and crumpets and a smashing good time with your old chums, Katie and Corrine. Righto and jolly good and all that, BUT what about me?

I heard you talking before you crossed the pond and I quite heard you say that you planned to blog along the way on this trip. I thought, “Righto! And ace of an idea if I do say so. But alas, it seems they were words; only words.
 Have you even taken so much as a gander at me lately? Unlikely, I say, highly unlikely. It's probably been days, or weeks, actually, since you gave me a look, I'm quite sure. Crikey! And I thought we were chaps.

This total disregard of my being is… well… it’s rubbish; that’s what it is. I know you fancy jetting around the globe, acting all hoity-toity, and I try to let it slip, yet I can't help but get a little prickly when you ignore me.

So I fancy a little attention from you now and then; is that so bad? We’ve been mates for quite some time now, haven’t we? Is this anyway to treat a mate?

Blimey! Enough of this. I will just put a sock in it and wrap up by saying……….
Go ahead; see the sights, catch a game of cricket, spend the day with Big Ben if you’re keen on him. We both know you'll be back and that I'll be here waiting for you. We've had too many cracking good times to let it end like this.

Well, Bob’s your uncle…

Your Blog




Dear Blog:
Sorry.  I will get around to blogging soon.  It's just that I'm having way too much fun and have been way too busy.  Please stop sending me hate mail though and please stop sending me emails telling me to update my "bloody blog."  Thanks for caring though.
Becca

When in doubt...blog!

In less than 48 hours I'm supposed to be on my way to Europe.  So, I should be packing, making last minute purchases and working on my "To Do Before Europe" list and "Loose Ends To Tie Up In Case I Ever Die On Vacation" list.  

But, thanks to a ginourmous volcano in Iceland deciding to erupt all of a sudden I don't know if I should bother packing or not. 

I mean come on volcano...you haven't erupted since 1823...couldn't you have just waited a few more months!?!


Apparently not.  


So, I decided to blog a little.  


And, in preparation for my possibly leaving Idaho for a couple of months I've been thinking of ridiculous things about Idaho...things I won't miss...to try to make being away from my beloved state less difficult.  


Things I won't miss while I'm away:

#1: Misspelled and made up words that Idahoans seem to like to use.  


Now I know I'm not perfect...I know I make all kinds of grammatical and spelling errors, but if I was ever in charge of putting up a message on a marquee, I'd double and triple and quadruple check my spelling.  


Looks like not much has changed at Rigby High School...they still aren't properly teaching your versus you're or maybe it just isn't sinking in.  


Dear marquee person...I'm not so sure it's important that you're counted...we could maybe skip over you this time.  


Oh, and sorry that the picture is not that great.  I was taking it while driving on icy roads.  So, maybe I'm not so smart either...but hey, anything for a good blog post.  


Side story:  So, this picture made me think of the good old days in high school when I was on executive council.  At that time the executive council VP was in charge of changing the marquee messages (if I can remember right).  And the VP was my friend and fellow blogger Amy G.S. Well, as you can imagine I always wanted to go out and help her change the marquee (except during snowstorms).  I don't remember whose idea it was...probably Amy's, maybe mine, but for the purpose of the blog we'll blame it on some other unnamed member of student council.  Anyway, we put up on the marquee something like, "Don't be a loser.  Get a date to prom!"  And, as you can imagine shortly thereafter calls from concerned parents who didn't want their kids to "feel like losers" started coming in and we had to change the sign to something nicer but way less funny.

But, to our credit, at least we didn't make the mistake of saying "Don't be a looser.  Get a date to prom!"  Because you know...loose versus lose is also a big problem.  Like the lady who painted up about 50 little key-holders to sell that said, "Don't loose your keys, don't loose your keys, don't loose your keys" before she caught on on how to spell lose.  Sad.


#2 of what I won't miss: Idaho radio stations or the lack thereof.


I know I've mentioned this before but I just have to complain one more time about it.  There are no good stations in Idaho.  But, for some weird reason there are at least 10 Christian rock stations.  Weird.  


I'm starting to see why people sometimes resort to listening to country music...as horrible as it is, it may have trashy dance music, or songs like "Mercyville" by Afterglow, beat.  


Note to self: Look into cost of satellite radio upon return to Idaho.


#3: Creepy doctor guy on Bingham Memorial Hospital commercials. 
Okay, so unless you actually live and watch TV in Idaho you may not find this funny, but anyone know what I'm talking about when I say "creepy doctor guy on Bingham Memorial Hospital commercials?"


I'll do a quick run-down for those of you who don't know what I'm talking about.  So, on the commercial this heavier set doctor with full facial hair is sitting in his office telling you, in a monotone voice, all about the services he can provide now that he's at Bingham Memorial Hospital.  And how, thanks to the "state of the art equipment" there, he can perform many procedures right in his office without having to actually go into the hospital or have much down time. He can even perform "alternatives to hysterectomy, or tie your tubes right in the office, over the lunch break."  


Yes ladies, he did say that he can tie your tubes OVER THE LUNCH BREAK! There are so many things wrong about that on so many levels but let me just say that every time I see this commercial, the image automatically pops into my head of this kinda creepy doctor holding a meatball sub in one hand and tying my tubes with his other.  Oh, and if I let myself dwell too long on the image I see that he has a little bit of marinara stuck in his facial hair.  I know, sick and wrong, sick and wrong.


Side note:  Anybody ever see that Seinfeld where Kramer, I believe, accidentally flips a Junior Mint into some guy's open chest cavity while they're watching a surgery?  This post made me think of that.


#4 Jay Hildebrandt and Karole Honas. 
Need I say more?


Side story: Lee saw Karole Honas at the Blackfoot Fair and asked if he could take his picture with her...the second he asked he felt so dumb and said something like, "ummm the picture is for my grandma...she loves your newscast."  And, my grandma really does like them.  She's a loyal supporter, maybe their last.  I wonder if Lee ever gave my grandma that picture.  I'll have to ask.  


Okay, well, time to go pack, or at least shower.  

Brazil, Argentina, and My Eternal Damnation

I guess it's about time I finished blogging about my trip to Brazil and Argentina.  I've already shown pictures of my time in the Amazon and in Fortaleza but soon I will be blogging pictures of the rest of my trip.  My Aunt Nancy said that if I blogged my trip she would leave me a comment.  And, she's one of my worst blog leeches, so I do whatever I can to get her to comment.  


But before I post a bunch of pictures I thought I'd show you a map of where I went so you'll kind of get a feel for my trip and learn a little geography, in case any of you are ever on Who Wants To Be a Millionaire or Jeopardy.  


I'm not too great at Photoshop, but whatever.  The red dots equal flights, the purplish blue dots equal boat rides, and the greenish blue dots equal bus rides...a lot of really long bus rides.  

Brazil:

*USA to Fortaleza

*Flew from Fortaleza to Belem

*From Belem flew to Santarem

*From Santarem took a 4 hour speedboat to Oriximina

*From Oriximina took a 9 hour night boat back to Santarem

*Flew from Santarem back to Belem

*And from Belem back to Fortaleza

*Flew from Fortaleza to Rio de Janeiro via Campinas (by the way the flight from Campinas to Rio is one of the most beautiful flights I have ever taken and I highly recommend it)

*From Rio took a 8 hour bus ride to Sao Paulo (should have been 6 but was 8 thanks to traffic)

*Flew from Sao Paulo to Iguassu Falls on the Brazil side

Argentina:
*Took a taxi from the Brazil side of Iguassu to the Argentine side
*Took a 9 hour bus ride from Iguassu to Resistencia (aka: the ride with the really stinky air freshener)
*Took an 11 hour bus ride from Resistencia to Tucuman (aka: 11 hours of hell in a sweat lodge)
*Took a 4 hour bus ride from Tucuman to Salta (aka: the ride where we dined and slept with cockroaches)
*Took a 15.5 hour bus ride from Salta to San Juan (aka: the ride where they didn't stop to let us use the bathroom and we didn't want to use the gross bathroom on the bus so we all almost died)
*Took a 2.5 hour bus ride from San Juan to Mendoza (aka: the lap of luxury)
*Took a 4.5 hour bus ride from Mendoza to Villa Mercedes
*Took a 4.5 hour bus ride from Villa Mercedes to Mendoza
*Vowed to never ride a bus again
*Flew home from Mendoza

My Eternal Damnation:

Not SPAM...being single.  Story to follow...

Overall my trip to Brazil and Argentina was pretty wonderful.  In spite of long bus rides, cockroaches, sweat, humidity, bad hair days everyday, creepy guys and all the other things that come with travel, I really had a great time.  

Until...on my last day in Argentina when I got chewed out by a member I knew on my mission and basically told that I would be eternally damned if I didn't soon choose to be married.  

"It just depends where you want to be for all eternity Rebecca...up here (motions with hand) or down there (another hand motion)," she said.

What I wanted to reply:

"Well Sister ________, if being up there means having to spend eternity with a bunch of smug married people (like yourself), then I'd rather spend eternity in the depths of hell."  

But, I didn't know how to say "smug" in Spanish. 

So, instead I just said something along the lines of:

"Yeah, I guess I just need to try harder." 

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh sometimes people are so dumb and socially retarded.  I want to start making little badges that say things like:

"I don't know when to shut up" or

"I say stupid things" or 

"I ask inappropriate questions"

and just hand them to people after conversations like the one mentioned above.  

I mean, I already have a major complex about potentially having to spend eternity fanning and feeding grapes to married people...I don't need anyone to remind me of my social status!

Anyway, I just want to say to all those married people out there who say totally jerky things to single people...and I'm not saying all married people are jerks or anything and probably none of my good blog readers are but maybe you guys know some people who are jerks and can refer them to my blog for a little lesson in human decency...anyway, I want to say to all those people that:

1) You are mean

2) I don't like you

3) You are not better than me just because you are married

4) Jesus was single (at least according to www.allaboutgod.com) and so you dang well better be nice to single people!

That's all I have to say about that.  

For now.  

If you're wondering...

why you can't find any good Easter candy on sale in SE Idaho, it's probably because I bought it all.  Sorry.  


You may be mad, but the missionaries in the Brazil Fortaleza mission will be glad...especially the oldest two missionaries!

4 trips to 3 different Walgreens

3 trips to Kmart (a forgotten store and very good place for post holiday sales)

2 trips to 2 different Albertsons

and then I had all this candy...

And yes, those are generally hard to find peanut butter egg M&M's.  I guess the recession has hurt M&M's too.  Guess how many bags of them there are in that pile and I'll give you a piece of candy (or maybe a whole bag of candy!)




And then I made just one more trip to KMART for this much more!  

You can never have too much American candy in Brazil...even if it does have Easter Bunnies plastered all over it!

The Domestic Spinster

A few years ago I had this great idea to start a company called "Domestic Spinster."  I think I was going to sell home decor, cooking stuff, sewing stuff, crafty things, etc. 

I even got the Delta American Express Business Card and put the name of my business as "Domestic Spinster," which was printed on the card.  (Yes, I get weird looks/comments if salespeople actually look at my card when I use it.)

I think the company was a great idea.  But there was one major flaw that I realized about the time I got my new Delta American Express Business Card in the mail...and that flaw was that I'm not really all that domestic. 

Sadly, I must admit, I don't even know how to properly boil an egg. 

I'm sure I could learn if I needed to, or figure it out if egg boiling were a life and death situation.  I mean it's all on the Internet, right?

In my defense, I don't really dig boiled eggs...especially egg yokes...yuck!...and I don't have to cook for anyone else very often and I guess that egg boiling just hasn't come up in my life thus far.  My mom will be so ashamed that I'm admitting this, but my conscience bids me tell the truth.

Yeah, so starting a company with the word "Domestic" in the title...probably not the best idea for a spinster like me. 

However, I do have to say that recently I have been quite domestic...more so than usual.  I guess being a SAHS has given me time to explore my domestic side.  And I thought I'd share some of my domesticity with you all. 

First of all I made a little summer quilt for Mitch.  It was a pretty easy quilt but it still took me forever because I have a little problem with perfectionism.

I even wrapped the quilt up (with some other gifts) and gave it to Mitch (well, to his parents) on his blessing day.  It has been so long since I've actually wrapped a gift that it made me feel all domestic.  My brothers usually wrap the gifts they give in Walmart grocery sacks, and I have to admit that in the past couple of years I have begun to adopt their wrapping style (or lack thereof).

I also made these little chick cake pops for Mitchell's blessing day. 

Here they are up close.  My mom found the recipe on Bakerella, but I have to just say for the record here that the faux hawk was my own addition.  (Faux hawk on Bakerella Chick Cake Pops = Copyright 2010 by Becca)  You can use the faux hawk when you make yours but just remember where it came from. 

Also, don't use as much frosting as she says to use and don't bother buying the food safe markers...they won't work and you'll be super mad you wasted eight bucks on them...just use Sharpie.  A little Sharpie never killed anyone (that I know of).  Also, use the Betty Crocker cream cheese frosting (less of a nasty aftertaste...not a huge fan of store bought frosting).  And, make the red velvet cake pops for sure...everybody seems to love them...unless you're making them for kids and then you could have a red food coloring disaster to deal with.  Those are my insider tips. 

I wanted to have a little basket with wheat grass growing in it to stick the chick pops in, but I didn't get home from South America in time to successfully grow any wheat grass.  It would have been so cool.  Dang.  I had to use fake grass instead. 

I also made cake pops for our annual Hen and Chicks party that my Aunt Grace throws for all the women on my mom's side of the family.  I even made a couple of hens, some eggs and some little chicks that sit instead of being on a stick, to go along with my dream cake cupcakes.  Making the cake pops was fun but very time consuming...a job best suited for a SAHS. 

The Hen and Chicks party is definitely the must attend party of the year in our family.  I think the guys are secretly jealous that they aren't invited.  Well, at least my brother Lee is.  He always wants to know what went on at the party...he's usually a little shocked but he asks every year anyway...probably kind of like a car wreck...he wants to look as he drives by, but really doesn't want to see anything too gross.  He even sent me a text message minutes after the party ended to see what the 2010 party gossip was.  Normally his wife Kim fills him in on what happens, but she couldn't make it this year.

Anyway, we kind of have a "what happens at the Hen and Chicks Party stays at the Hen and Chicks Party" policy, or I'd tell you more.  But I will tell you that it is kind of like Girls Gone Wild...Mormon style. 

Anyway, here's a picture of the Hen and Chicks 2010 group.  I think we should have moved the bowl of ginormous pears before we took the picture, but, too late now. 

Oh, and since I had some extra cake pops frozen from Mitchell's big day and the Hen and Chicks party, I went ahead and made them again for Easter Sunday.  I made egg pops too and decorated them with polka dots and zig zags.  They were so cute!  But, due to cake pop decorating and a small wardrobe disaster, I was late to Easter dinner and forgot to take a picture.  So, you'll never know how cute they were, but you'll just have to trust me on it. 

That's all for now...

To Whom it May Concern...

To whom it may concern...


Okay, so I'm finally getting around to applying for jobs.  I just finished my resume last week.  I sent it for editing to some of my most critical blog readers.  I figured that if they enjoy telling me my grammar and spelling errors on my blog, then why not on my resume.  I thought it was a good idea. 


Anyway...I decided to Google myself to see what information is out there about me that potential employers could easily find...without having to hire a Private Investigator, etc.  And...come to find out, all you have to do is Google Becca with my last name and my blog is one of the first things that comes up.  I'm not sure why it shows up as I have my security settings set so that my blog should be unsearchable and I've never to my knowledge written my last name right by Becca on my blog.  And then I realized that it might be because some people (I won't name any names) have me listed as Becca B@## on their blog rolls.  


Now I know that some of you may have done this because your blog roll consists mostly of married people and my name looks so lonely on the list all by itself.  I appreciate you thinking of me and trying to make me and my name look less lonely, but if you all could please get rid of my last name from your blog roll it would be much appreciated.  


Some other options for my blog on your blog roll could be:
Becca
Becca B. 
Becca's Blog
Becca and Nobody 
or any other creative title as long as it doesn't contain my last name


For example my friend Amy lists my name with some random guy's name that changes every once in awhile depending on who is in the news.  For example right now I'm listed as Becca and Tiger Woods on her blog.  I think I may have been previously listed as Becca and Adam Lambert, or Becca and Michael Jackson.  Not only does it protect my identity but it gives me a good laugh every time I check her blog.  


Sorry to be a pain about this...I'm not trying to be a paranoid person, but until I get a job it might be best if my potential employers don't know that I:
Hate Barack Obama
Think he should admit that he's half white
Sneaked a flat iron through Dominican Airport Security
Break Brazilian import laws and enjoy doing so
etc., etc., etc.


So anyway, we'll see if removing my last name from the blog rolls helps, and if not, I may have to go private for awhile.  But just until I get a job...I promise...after that I don't care that my whole life is open for the world to see.  I have nothing to hide.  I guess I should, but I don't.  


Besides, if I do have to go private for awhile it will:


1. Help me get rid of some blog leeches that won't come forth.  I REALLY don't mind if people like to read my blog...even people I don't know as long as they aren't crazy people, potential employers, or government spies.  It is just weird to run into people I haven't seen for years and have them say, "oh, I read your blog," because then I know nothing about them and they know everything about me including the inner workings of my soul.  It makes for really awkward conversations.  So come forth blog leeches and have no fear...then I'll surf over to your blog and read up on you, and that way when I run into you at Walgreen's we'll have something to talk about.  


2. Help me get rid of some major spam comments I have been getting recently.  I don't know why I have had so many spam comments lately...I'm sick of them though.  I have no use for Viagra!!!!!!!!!!!! I don't know why you Nigerians keep trying to sell it to me!  (If anyone knows how to get rid of my crazy spammers, without having to go private, please let me know.)


Anyway, thank you to all of you for removing my last name from your blog roll. If random people find my blog they should at least have to do some major blog surfing to do so...just searching my name on Google is so lazy.  


Thanks!

Poop* Machines, Stay at Home Spinsters (SAHS) and Why the World Needs Both

Here are my cute (oops, I mean handsome) little cousins Dawson and Cole in front of what my mom calls a "poop* machine."


You know...those little vending machines that appear in every grocery store, doctor's office, mall, small business and anywhere else that bored children and their desperate mothers/caretakers may be found.  


You know...the machines where you can find those clear plastic cases with brightly colored lids that contain things like: fake tattoos, giant gumballs, fake facial hair, sticker earrings, knockoff Silly Putty, little pills that turn into towels or sponges when soaked in water, parachute men, things that spin, things that swim, bouncy balls, and one of my favorites...those sticky hand shaped things that you can use to: flip in your brother's face, pick papers up off the ground, get the windows in the car really dirty, and annoy your mother.  


Anyway, I don't know what these little vending machines are actually called because I've always called them "poop* machines" because my mom one time (after a long day of shopping with us kids) said: (after we asked her for some money for probably the hundredth time to buy one of those treasured prizes contained in the little vending machines) 


"If they sold little balls of horse poop* in those things, you kids would want one...as long as it came in that little container with the colored lid!"


And sadly, she was probably right.


And ever since we've referred to them as "poop* machines."


What, you may ask, made me think of poop machines?


Well, last week my cousin Audrey called me to see if I could come keep an eye on her kids while she was at the doctor's office.  

Due to my Stay at Home Spinster status I was able to rush over at the drop of a hat and hang out with these two little goofballs...

and their darling little sister Mia for awhile.


Right when we walked into the doctor's office I spotted a poop machine over in the corner by the kids play area...which by the way really didn't have any toys for the kids to play with.  I guess it is just an area to quarantine kids in.  They did have a movie playing, but that's about it.  I guess they want to sell some things from their poop machine.  


When I saw the poop machine I instantly knew that Dawson and Cole would want to buy something from the machine...any normal kid would.  And secretly, I think I wanted them to ask me if they could...probably because I actually think that some of the things they sell in the machines are really funny...and maybe because of some deep-seated need to still rebel against my mother and her wishes.  Sorry mom.  


But, being the adult that I am (or that I should be)...I didn't say, "Hey kids, let's buy some stuff from that machine over there."  I waited patiently and sure enough, a few minutes later I saw little Cole over there trying to buy something with three pennies he had in his pocket, and that's when I felt it was okay to go over and give them each a quarter.  


So, if you have a strong hate for poop machines and the prizes found therein...don't ever have me watch your kids...because I still think they are pretty cool and will probably give your kids money to buy stuff from them.  


I mean, for 25 cents, we bought a mustache that entertained Cole and Dawson for at least 15 minutes.  And then Cole put his three pennies in the little plastic case, which made a perfect little rattle to entertain Mia.  (Don't worry, I was watching her VERY carefully to make sure she didn't try to eat the pennies.)  


I secretly believe that all adults think that poop machine prizes are kind of cool but that they feel some need, as adults, to disapprove...I guess just to keep kids thinking that we're in charge.  


So, let your inner kid out...and support your local poop machine this weekend.  You'll be surprised how fun a fake mustache can be.  


*"Poop" should actually be replaced with a much stronger word, but due to my mom's current missionary status and my desire to keep my blog somewhat clean, I have used the word "poop" instead.