I LOVE...

1. falling asleep in clean sheets.
2. Easter egg hunts.
3. my zany sisters.
4. listening to McKay play Gershwin.
5. a bookshelf full of new books to read.
6. hearing my whole family laugh at the same time.
7. a good hug.
8. Paul McCartney.
9. watching Sammy and Winston run wild and free in the field across from our apartment complex.
10. 711 hot chocolate.
11. waking up and having no place to be.
12. DISNEYLAND.
13. looking at pictures.
14. taking pictures.
15. (and miss) SF baseball games at PacBell park.
16. an entire box of See's chocolate especially for me.
17. Oregon trees.
18. having a husband who makes me laugh daily.
19. shoes without shoelaces.
20. laminating.
21. thick,warm socks.
22. Tsing Tao's chinese food that is above and beyond all other chinese food.
23. accents.
24. Paulito's big, beautiful eyes.
25. making a new friend.
26. surprises.
27. that Ikea is coming to Portland.
28. Trader Joe's rasberry strudel.
29. seashells.
30. that I got a chance to really know my grandparents.
31. changing my hair color.
32. phase 10 marathons.
33. baby anythings.
34. finding a perfect flower.
35. cute old people.
36. a good pair of sweats.
37. long talks.
38. autumn leaves.
39. waking up in the middle of the night and hearing the rain.
40. free stuff.
41. hearing my dad play the horn.
42. singing in the car.
43. watching house hunters and dreaming of a house of my own...
44. history.
45. a good movie.
46. a clean bathroom.
47. that I own all seasons Seinfeld.
48. my new body shop face wash.
49. our annual family picture in our new pajamas on Christmas Eve.
50. starry nights.

Happy Valentines Day...

So as I mentioned, I sort of gifted myself a trip to visit Leanne in Maui for Christmas. Of course, it was a joint gift to myself, from myself and my husband, but it was Leanne who found the can't-pass-it-up/such-a-great-deal plane ticket. These elements combined made it happen. And after I bought the ticket I totally freaked out and felt like an irresponsible jerk leaving poor McKay home alone while I went off to enjoy a week of rest and relaxation. But I got over that. And then, for some reason, I was convinced that I was going to die in a plane crash...or get bitten by a shark while snorkeling...because apparently if I don't have something rational to completely stress over, I'll settle for ridiculous hypotheticals.
The plane ride over totally sucked. I hate flying alone. And it's even worse when you're in the dead center of the plane, middle section, middle row, middle seat. It made for a nice little obstacle course getting to the bathroom. And SO embarrassing when you fall asleep and your head keeps lolling about. I finally turned to the people next to me and told them never to buy a ticket for the middle seat in a row. They laughed politely and shifted further away from me in their seats. Fine by me.
I then proceeded to eat an entire bag of goldfish crackers. Which is not all that hard to do, because those things aren't ver big. I didn't feel silly so much about eating the entire bag as I did about the ridiculous amount of goldfish cracker crumbs that ended up all over my shirt. The crumbs I didn't happen to notice until about 2 hours later. Nice.
Yadda yadda yadda, I arrived in Maui, Leanne and I had a glorious reunion...
The next day we went snorkeling which was absolutely fabulous. We were two of about 14 people on a boat that could fit about 150. It felt like a private charter. We inadvertantly made fun of some of the Canadians on board (Leanne and I have a tendancy to insult people without meaning to when we are together...this was one such occasion), so it was a little tricky trying to avoid them with such a small group. Creepy 1st mate Bob was also on board--Bob whose feet looked like Frodo Baggins', and who had a rather annoying staring problem. Bob was also a sidler. Leanne and I would be chatting and all of the sudden Bob would pop out of nowhere with his sociopathic little grin and say something strange like, "Would you ladies like a beeeeeeeeeer?" or, "Isn't it a beautiful daaaaaaaaay?" Hmm...yes, Bob. Please don't hurt me. Avoiding Bob and the Canadians was an adventure of its own.
We snorkeled right off the island of Molokini. So I swam, I saw fish and beautiful coral, and of course, kept an eye out for any sharks who might want to bite me and prove my fits of paranoia completely legitimate. There is always that possibility. But it didn't happen. All appendages in tact.
Saturday night Mom, Dad and Jennie arrived. We went to a mexican joint that had the best ginger ale I've ever had in my life. I am now on a ginger ale kick, and yet, nothing I've tried comes close to what I had at that there mexican joint. This was the same restaurant with the lady at the bar who was totally flirting with my oblivious dad while we waited for a table. One of the weirdest things I've ever experienced in my life. There is a sick, twisty feeling in one's stomach when one witnesses one's parent being offered drinks, buffalo wings, and conversation by a drunken woman in a slinky dress.
Anyhoo, good ginger ale.
We went to the beach where I got the worst sunburn of my life. I NEVER, neeehhhverrrr get sunburned, so this was weird. I was reading my book when I realized all of the sudden that my legs really really really hurt. I'm still recovering.
Jennie and I stayed up late one night with my camera trying to out-do each other on who could make the ugliest face. It was a close call. Always a fun activity that never seems to get old in the Webster household.
We went whale watching on my brother-in-law's boat and saw some amazing things. Little baby humpback whales breaching like their mamas and showing off for the boats. It was so amazing.
So five days later I got back on a plane, back to the middle row in the middle of the plane, but this time I had the whole row to myself. The flight was half empty, so it was a much more pleasant experience.
In a nutshell I'm so glad that I went and it was a very fun trip. And I have the pictures to prove it.

Maui Madness

Alright, so, my real Christmas present this year was a trip to see my sister Leanne in Maui. It was amazing. We partied. I went on my very first ever snorkeling trip, and I must say, I was pretty darn...okay at it.
I keep trying to write interesting things, but is someone else's vacation all that interesting to others?? I don't know. Plus, I'm really hungry and I have haagen dazs in the freezer calling my name. Perhaps I will make this a TO BE CONTINUED post. Yes....

A Few of my favorites...

A long day of shopping...


An afternoon on Captn' Carlos' boat watching the whales do their thing...


A super cute sea turtle...

Sometimes it's hard to believe that a place like this exists...

Dogs in Snow

The cutest.

Guess what I got for Christmas?!?

Not this pony, if that's what you were thinking. Although, Strawberry and I shared a deep connection at the christmas tree farm.

Allstar

This weekend McKay and I attended our very first NBA basketball game. We watched the Trailblazers barely hang on to a win against the Hornets, and best of all, I got myself a huge cup of frozen yogurt that was dee-licious. We had a great time.

At half time we were sitting there, enjoying the atmosphere and said frozen yogurt, when I had this flash of a memory long forgotten.

In grade school I tried just about everything. Softball (I ended up the equipment manager when coach finally tried to break to me gently that I stunk), drama (I don't mean to brag, but this was my one claim to fame. I was one of the principle's in Peter Pan. John, to be exact). student council (I lost the grounds commissioner race to the smelly kid), volleyball (I just wanted to get some of those neato knee pads), and of course--basketball. I was about 4'9" and maybe 80 pounds, needless to say I was not much of an athlete. Plus, I'm a wuss. Anytime I saw an object headed in my direction, it wasn't my first impulse to run up and intercept that object moving at high velocity. Unlike many of the other girls on my teams, I frequently tried to get out of the way.

Now, anyone who attended a Clovis Unified school knows that when it comes to sports, there's no messing around. Athletics are the bread and butter of that district, and there will be no losers. Which is why the team system they came up with was quite ingenious. You see, there were three teams. A, B, and C Teams.

The A-team was the cream of the crop. The girls who at 12 years of age were already 6 feet tall and in contract negotiations with the WNBA. The A-team girls were a class all to themselves.
"That's Ashley...she's on the A-team." A hush would fall over the crowd. It was serious business.

Now the B-teamers, they were pretty darn good, too. Not quite at the caliber of the A-teamers, but still nothing to scoff at. They could hold their own. And best of all, they got the real deal jerseys just like the A-team. A REAL team.

And then there was C-team. Now, I can't say anything disparaging about the C-teamers because I was one of them. We were the riff raff. We knew we sucked, we knew to be branded with the C-team name meant social suicide, but gosh darnit, we were gonna play some basketball. And so what if we didn't have jerseys. We had...uh...well, they gave us a ball! And court time! Right after the A-team and B-teams had played all of their games, we had the prime courts! Yessiree. And despite the fact that that usually meant our games started somewhere around sundown, when the school was practically deserted and our cracker-jack coach was somewhere by the snack bar drinking soda and taking a cat nap on the bleachers, the C-team was too legit to quit. We stayed until every last game was played. And usually lost.

While I respected my C-team sisters, I found myself growing restless after my fourth and fifth grade years. I decided that sixth grade was going to be different. Oh yes. I had one last year to get it right, and I wasn't going to screw it up. Or so I thought.

Turns out, the extra practices, the "perfected" jump shot added up to a whole lot of nothing, and for the third and final year, I ended up back on the C-team. This was most discouraging. Disillusionment set in, and I became the most jaded and bitter C-teamer Mickey Cox elementary had ever seen. Maybe.
Game after game I played half-heartedly, as I dreamed of what could have been. The blacktop is always blacker on someone else's blacktop. That's for sure.
As the season drew to a close, and despite my pain, I decided for the final game of my elementary school basketball career, I would give it all I had. I would try my best, and I was sure that there would be some life's lesson I would learn from all of this. Perhaps I would make the winning basket. I would prove to be an asset to my teammates. The A-team and B-team coaches would look on and scratch their heads, wondering how they could have let me slip through their fingers that season. This was going to be my game.

I waited and waited for our team captain to let me in the game. It felt like an eternity, until I finally had my chance. My moment to shine had finally arrived. I took my place and played my postition like nobody's business. Amazing defense, smart offense. I was on fire. I recall like it was yesterday what happened next. My opponent, who I should have been defending but by some miraculous phenomenon had gotten past me, was passed the ball and was heading for the net on the opposite side. I scrambled after her, with the whirlwind of frantic little girls trailing behind us. We got to the net, she took her shot and, I swear, I saw it go in. I thought to myself, "Don't let it get you down, Manda! Get back to your position! Be ready for that next opportunity!!" I made a mad dash down the court to the opposite side. When I made it back to my position on the court, I turned quickly to find the ball. As I turned I felt instant, searing pain. I had twisted my ankle. Really, really twisted it. Paaaiiiin. And just as I was coming to the realization of this pain, I came to another realization. Everybody else was still on the opposite side of the court. The ball was still in play and I was all by myself, on the other side of the court. I had twisted my ankle all on my own. I couldn't even blame it on the chaos of the sea of girls around me... seeing as how I was far, far away from the action. There was no escaping this humiliation.
I hobbled off the court in shame, looking up to find a perplexed look on my coach's face. "What were you doing?," he asked in genuine confusion. I don't know. I just don't know.
Needless to say, I did learn a great life's lesson that day. Sports are definitely not for me.

As I sat with McKay at the Trailblazers game on Friday night and relayed this story to him, we both had to shake our heads. What is the deal with childhood? I guess it's a good thing memories like these usually only come back when you're old enough to be able to laugh at yourself.

I have a problem.

I thought moving to Oregon would pretty much squash any possibility of the continuance of my Disneyland addiction, but I was wrong. We went AGAIN. But to be fair, I must say that this trip was planned with McKay's family for quite some time, and was more or less a family reunion, so really, how could we not go? But the worst of it is I'm already planning our next trip in March.
Some people drink to escape their reality...I go to Disneyland. I work two jobs. I live in a new place. I deserve a bi-annualish trip to Disneyland, right? Right.
I'm just grateful for a husband who indulges me and loves it as much as I do.

Angry Voltage

Who knew that electricity was so hostile?

Just to add to the Oprah theme of my last entry...

New Favorites

Seeing as how I am going through about a book a week these days, it's a really good thing I got myself this gig at a used bookstore. There are definite days I feel as though this job was created with me in mind.
I looooove my little bookstore.

One of the beautiful things about my job is that I can read whatever I want in the store. If I'm restocking books and see something of interest, I take it home, bring it back when I'm done. It's fabulous. I have read so many new and interesting authors.
I'm getting smarter and more cultured all the time, I swear.

My latest discoveries, though, have definitely been the best. I avoided Poisonwood Bible for a while because it bore the emblem of Oprah Winfrey's bookclub. No offense to anyone who is an Oprah fan, but I definitely am not one. I have respect for the good things she has done, and props to her for trying to get people to read more, but there's a lot about her that gets under my skin. Putting her name on a book she did not have anything to do with writing being one of them. Anyway, I finally decided to read it because it came highly recommended by my well-read co-workers. It truly changed the way I think. About some things at least. Amazing, amazing writing. It's the story of a family moved to the Congo by their fanatical preacher husband/father, told from the point of view of his wife and four daughters. Reading this book made me miss writing lit papers. Rich and fat with metaphors and symbolism. It's a book about so many things--family, politics, forgiveness, culture, ignorance, humility, kindness...it's just an impressive piece of work. One of my all time favorites.

I just finished The Bean Trees yesterday. I liked this one, not as well as Poisonwood, but still very good. This one is the story of a woman travelling cross-country who ends up becoming responsible for an orphaned native american baby. Another wonderful character-driven story about people. I guess that's why I like these books. They're about real people, flaws and all. Really a great book.

Okay, so I'm officially an old woman. I'm learning how to knit and I blog about books I've read. I suppose there are more interesting things that I could have blogged, but I'm so into books right now. And Sequence. What a great game that is.

Bless You, Rent.com

I have these days where I can't even bring myself to get the mail. This is usually because I am too tired, or because I just don't want to see what could possibly be waiting for me in that dark, dank little box. One of the many reasons I have decided that after this whole school phase in our life, we need to become independently wealthy.
But I decided this evening, I would brave it. I would make the trek to my fortress of a mailbox. Does anyone else have to use a special, separate key just to get to the place where the mailboxes, secured by yet another lock and key, are kept? And do you also find yourself locked in the room that holds the mailboxes because the door locks behind you? I don't know what kind of mail my neighbors get, but apparently it's top secret high security business. That's yet another reason why it's so easy to talk myself out of getting the mail. I don't feel like playing McGyver. Anyway.
Amidst the annoyingness of bank statements and pointless paper-wasting products (that tidbit of alliteration was just off the top of my head, by the way) I found a letter from Rent.com. I'm sure you can imagine the elation felt when I realized that they were writing to inform me that they were giving ME money!! Because I used their service to find our apartment and alerted my leasing office that they were the ones who helped me to find this place, they sent me $100 bucks! I totally forgot that I had filled out all of the info and sent the emails to qualify me for that $100 bucks. It's like the feeling you get when you find a $10 bill in the pocket of the jeans you haven't worn in a while. Times ten. Literally.
So kudos to you, Rent.com. I will tell the world my story. And give copious thanks forever more. Or at least until this $100 bucks runs out.

Baby McKay

The latest addition to the Ryan Marshall (McKay's brother's) family...isn't he cute?
The name suits him. I think he looks like McKay.

Timmy and Me!

Here's a picture of me and Tim. I'm the huge face on the left. Tim is the tiny dot below. Nevertheless, I felt we connected. We're good friends now. In spirit.
Even though McKay is not in the slightest a country fan, I dragged him with me and we both had a great time. The show was amazing. It made me want to be a light designer.

Faith And Tim

I scored myself some FREE tickets to the Faith Hill and Tim McGraw concert this past Tuesday, and it was quite fun. We had a lovely bird's eye view of the whole performance, as you can tell by the picture. Or maybe you can't tell by the picture. Anyway, that's them.

The Day Has Come...

How fortunate that my long anticipated Ronco Showtime Knife Set arrived yesterday...just at my darkest hour. Well, maybe not my darkest hour, but I definitely needed some cheering up.
So here are the little beauties. I've wanted these dang knives for a really long time and I finally decided that it was now or never. And since now sounded a whole lot better than never, I got online and purchased an informercial product for the very first time ever.
I guess this means that we can finally throw away the two trusty knives we've been using for the past three years. A rusty butcher knife and a dull pearing knife. They served us well, but it's time to move on. Ronco style.

I keep having dreams about my family. We all meet together in one place, have a great time, laugh, catch up, and then everybody has to go their separate ways and I feel like I will never see them again.
I really miss my family. Especially when I hear that half of them have been in a seriously disturbing car accident where they have been hit by a drunk driver and I am not there to help and see for myself that they are all, indeed, alright.
And it doesn't help when you hear from your mom, "I try not to tell you how much I miss you...but I really miss you!" Heart. Breaking.
I love my family. And I love that the older I get, the more opportunity I have to become closer to all of them. I don't want to lose that. So I have come up with a simple solution: We all must live within 100 miles of each other when and if the transitional period in all of our lives finally ends.
I know that McKay and I are where we are supposed to be and we are happy here. But it is a lonely thing to be without family. And it is a loss that I truly hope is only temporary.

The Boys

While they can totally drive me crazy at times, I must admit that my puppies were a good investment of time, love, rent deposits... they make me happy. Sam especially. I think because we have history. I got Sam when McKay was working a lot and I was getting really lonely at home. He's my buddy. He has this sixth sense when I'm sad. He comes running in the room, sits about two inches from my face and looks at me like, "Are you okay?!"
Winston is the funniest little dog ever. His tail never stops wagging.
"Good boy, Winston! You went potty outside!" (Tail wags)
"NO, Winston! No chewing on shoes!" (Tail wags)
"Winston! Stop pulling Sammy's hair!" (That's not a joke)
And does anyone else talk to their dogs in complete sentences? The other night we were at my sister-in-laws and we brought the boys. Sam grabbed his chew stick and jumped up on the couch. I explained to him that there was no chewing on the couch and to please get down. So he jumped down. My sister-in-law thought it was the weirdest thing ever that I explained something to him instead of saying "SAMMY. DOWN." I guess I didn't realize that wasn't normal.
Anyway, I don't have kids, so I post pictures of my dog. Think of me what you will.

Moving Day...

Was about three weeks ago, but this is the first time I've had access to a computer since then. We're now official Beavertonites. Oregonians. What have you. The trip was long, but I was SO glad that mom and dad came along. They were heaps of help and it was fun to have them here. Sad to see them go...
It's a little strange being out here on our own, but we'll get used to it, I suppose. And the 70 degree summers. I can definitely get used to that.