Cute dresses, not so cute pictures

Time to break out the shoulder pads

Today I was called as the Relief Society secretary. Now all I have to do is find some pearls, some flowered dresses, and get myself some supportive pantyhose to seal the deal. And don't be surprised if you see me sporting the following three sweaters:



I was turned onto this website by an IA friend. This sweater lady kills me. I especially love the titles she gives each one.
"Butterfly Tears", "Mesquakie Keno", and "Breath of a Criminal" are shown above.

You can find more gems like these here:
http://www.lesliehall.com/gemsweater/gallery/gallery1.htm

I ain't no Boogaloo!

Today at Target, I was trying to fit a couple of bags into the cart where Ruby was sitting right smack dab in the middle, so I said "Get back, Boogaloo," a phrase that was used frequently in the Garlock household and now my own. My check-out girl happened to be of the African-American persuasion and as soon as I said it, her head snapped up and she gave me the most withering death-stare I have ever received. And I've received some pretty intense ones in my day. I quickly thought back to what I just said. Boogaloo. I said Boogaloo. All of a sudden, my mind was racing. What does Boogaloo mean? Is it a racial slur? Why does this chick look like she's about to tar and feather my cracka booty? When I got home, I quickly wikipediaed it.

Boogaloo (shing-a-ling, popcorn music) is a genre of Latin music and dance that was very popular in the United States in the late 1960s. Boogaloo originated in New York City among teenage Cubans and Puerto Ricans. The style was a fusion of popular African American R&B, rock and roll and soul with mambo and son montuno. Boogaloo entered the mainstream through the American Bandstand television program.

Yep. Just as I suspected. I am not a racist.

I'm waxing mathematical. Mums the word.

Yard update because I am SURE you've been wondering: before I left on my month-long trip, I pulled out all the pansies. They were great for a couple of months, then it just got too hot for them to be happy, so out they went. The Black-Eyed Susans stayed, much to my neighbor's dismay I'm sure, but I didn't have enough time before I left to pull them out. I was too busy sitting around thinking of other things to do besides pack.

I came home a couple days ago to find my pitiful little yard overrun with leggy Black-Eyed Susans and weeds. I found Mums for a buck each and decided to thin my Black-Eyed Susans, weed and plant the little Mum plants because that's the only thing around right now that I can plant. Do I like Mums? No. Do I like Black-Eyed Susans? No. But think back to sixth grade math. We know that if we multiply two negatives, it yields a positive. Or something like that.

Give me a ticket for an aeroplane

We're back. It's good to be home but now I'm taking a break from the mountains I have to unpack and sort through.

On our flight, after Ruby got bored playing dot-to-dot with my arm-moles, I handed her the camera. She never ceases to amaze me with her photography skills.







And I took this one.

Discoveries

Pics from the Discovery Science Museum. It was extremely educational and I learned a lot:

There were interior decorating tips were around every corner:


Elmo came to visit. I didn't know he was so tall:
May learned she didn't like Elmo as much as she thought.

She also learned that she is really short.

Ruby learned how to scale a boulder in a single bound.

Did you know that there are 89 kajillion germs crawling over every surface of a children's museum? Wow!

Senior Picture

I have two younger brothers and that's it. I have been known to complain to my parents about being the oldest. All the classics involving strictness, curfews, cars, money, chores, etc; the things/experiences that I was deprived of that my brothers got to have/do. Parents just get way more laid-back about things by the time the last kid rolls around. Take for instance the taking of senior pictures. For the first time in my life last night, I was glad that I wasn't the youngest, because THIS would have been my senior picture, which was taken last night. Joseph is almost 22 and graduated from high school 3 or 4 years ago and has attended college during that time. These are the senior pictures that the photo above will be sitting next to.I was in the play room watching THE WONDER YEARS and Joe was packing to move up to Utah. The whole ordeal went something like this:

Dad: Hey, will you go take a picture of Joseph?

Me: What? Why?

Dad: For his senior picture.

Me: Are you serious?

Dad: Yah, go do it before he leaves. He won't want to, but just do it anyway.

Me: What do you want him to wear? And it's dark outside.

Dad: Just take it right now in his room.

Me: Dad, he's wearing tank top.

Dad: I don't care. I just want a picture of him to put on the shelf with yours and John's.

Me: OK...

(I get my camera and go into his room.)

Joe: Are you going to take a picture of me?

Me: Yes.

Joe: No.

Me: It's for your senior picture. Dad said.

Joe: Well, can I at least hold something?

Me: Sure.

Joe: How about this flashlight?

The following pictures featured here were taken during Joseph's Senior Photo Shoot.

Give it up for

My trip is drawing quickly to a close, though I still have one last leg left. Thus far, I've connected with people I haven't seen in awhile, some I haven't seen in years. While jogging today, slap, shuffle, slap, shuffle, it hit me that I know a great number of very courageous people; people that have been through and are going through some major trials in their lives. We all know by now that it is through these trials and the consequent turmoil that give perspective, build character, give us depth, make us more interesting, more likely to reach out to other people and in a twisted way and in the long run: happier. To watch those who struggle with grace and tenacity is inspiring and humbing. I admire the people that are in my life. So here's to you, people in my life.

This especially goes out to all the:

-mothers of three under the age of four

-mothers of Irish Twins

-third trimester pregnansters

-single parents

-middle-aged X-SAHM who now have jobs to pay for their kids' college tuitions

-chefs at a busy restaurants

-walkers of very old dogs

-widows

-people on diets

-people who deal with chronic health issues

-the families of those who deal with chronic health issues

-teachers

-middle-aged women who jog, especially the one I saw today running in jeans

-people choosing to make better decisions and positive changes

-people that give it to me straight

-marriages that have survived

-givers of shirts off their backs

-the over-worked and under-paid and the un-appreciated

-vets who send sincere sympathy cards

-those with no agenda

-receivers of pokes and shots
-givers of pokes and shots

-grievers

-listeners

-bloggers who put themselves out there, who entertain me, who make me think

Frog Fountain Fun

Life imitating art.


This would be a lot funnier if Ruby was a boy, she wasn't my kid and we were like, 9 years old.

I've got a notion to go to the ocean

An all day adventure

The Tustin Metrolink Station. If it looks like it was early in the day, that's because it was. If we look tired, it's because we were. First time on a train for all of the Reynolds girls. Ruby's Weird Photo Face featured here. May was saying "Cheese!", which actually sounds more like "Mmmrrrreeeeee!"
Zoomars, a really cool petting zoo in San Juan Capistrano.

A dream come true for Ruby: her first time on a pony. I backed into a cactus bush when I took this picture. Have you ever seen a cartoon where the character gets stuck by cacti? Spot on. Kudos to the animators at Hanna-Barbera.

A different kind of train ride.

Lunch at Ruby's namesake. Lots of spills on May's dress so off it went.

We missed our train home. The next one wouldn't be back for another 2 hours, so we waited for Uncle Joe to come pick us up.

Roomie Beach Day

One of my favorite things to do when I'm in Irvine is get together with some my old roommates from BYU. I love these girls. Alot of them now live in the area, something that makes me crazy with envy. I pat myself on the back after each of our meetings, proud of myself that I didn't give any them jealousy-induced wedgies.

So we all forgot our cameras so this is kind of what a picture from today would have looked like, except that Melissa, though pregnant, is not this wide and Audra does not have a gigantic head. Both of these errors were drawn by mistake and not done in a jealous rage. I swear.