October 01, 2004

Lisa: Hey, I can be silly AND serious

Molly, I know we talked about going to your cabin on Halloween weekend, but are you sure you don't want to have a Lots-a-Leias party instead? I could totally get into making a Leia costume, and I would pay good money (if I had some) to see Blake in a Leia costume too. Or maybe he could be a wookie.

Also, I would like to ask a special favor of any Utahns of voting age who may be reading this. Please read this site and make an educated decision on whether to vote yes or no for Amendment 3 next month. Knee-jerkers, I would like to ask you to pay special attention to the section titled "LDS Church has NOT Endorsed Amendment 3." Thank you.

Lisa: Finally

Lori Hacking's remains were found today. I haven't mentioned her here before, even though she and Mark lived half a block from our apartment. It was too close, too real, too scary. Rest in peace, Lori.

October 04, 2004

Lisa: Home is where my head is

Today is moving day. Yesterday we cleaned the new house and made a bunch of trips in our cars, carrying the stuff we didn't want to put in boxes like clothes and framed pictures. Right now Blake and some friends are loading up a moving truck with boxes and furniture and driving it over to the new place. At least, I assume that's what they are doing--I had to go to work. Blake says it's better this way anyway, as I'll just get all stressed out, which will make him more stressed out. Whatever. Now I'm just stressed out at work, imagining the worst.

Also, our phone and internet at the new house isn't getting installed until Thursday, which means FOUR DAYS without them. Plus, for some reason the guy at CompUSA couldn't install an AirPort card in my PowerBook, and the Adobe Creative Suite wouldn't install either, which means everything is screwed up and I can't even check email at my parents' house. I think David is going to come to my rescue, and in the meantime I am going to concentrate on organizing and cleaning my home in a very Zen-like state without interruptions from the outside world. As soon as I get home from work.

October 05, 2004

Lisa: a tucked-in shirt and a good haircut makes the man

The sound of thousands of Gilmore Girls viewers around the world screaming in unison "GET A HAIRCUT, DEAN!" every time poor Mr. Padalecki came on screen was finally heard--and that boy is lookin' fine! Too bad the wardrobe people at Angel missed my repeated admonitions to "TUCK IN YOUR SHIRT, ANGEL!"--I know my downstairs neighbors didn't. Unfortunately, the formerly dapper D-Bo sported the untucked button-down shirt under the suit coat look (often paired with too-long pants and hands stuffed in his pants pockets) until the very last episode, and probably died looking like that. It's a shame, really, when he used to be so hot.

Thanks to Luke's Diner and Phoenix's D-Bo site for the photos.

October 10, 2004

Sarah: Bargain shopper extraordinaire

While on a shopping excursion with my cute friend and roommate Jessie, we stopped at JMR (I don't understand html, so I can't link... maybe Lisa will help you out...) to look at some leather boots. I don't believe we've ever talked about when Lisa and I went to JMR trying to solve a leather boot problem. The salesperson. was. horrible. She was unhelpful, unsympathetic, and rude. We were completely frustrated and astonished that someone who works on commission would act so unfriendly towards a customer ready to pay over $100. My visit to the store with Jessie completely changed my negative outlook on this particular JMR location. When we came in, Brian was immediately friendly, but didn't pester us or force any clothing or accessories upon us. When it was obvious that we knew what we wanted, he quickly checked for sizes and joked around while delivering honest opinions about different products. Brian treated us like good friends, even shaking his little hipster booty to the beat of the in-store music. Thank you, Brian, for changing my mind about JMR and helping me purchase genuine leather knee high boots for only $28. I want all my future commissions to go to you, and I want to be your friend. Let me be your friend?

October 14, 2004

Lisa: Leaks and Links


Before we closed on our house, the inspector warned us that there didn't seem to be a drain in the basement suitable for allowing leaking water to escape without icky flooding. While probably not urgent, this was a problem that needed to be fixed, so the previous owners agreed to throw in some cash so that we could get a drain installed after we moved in.

A few days before we moved in, our realtor noticed a little drip coming from the water softener, located in the basement laundry room. It seemed like no big deal, but the previous owners again agreed to add a bit to their check to us to facilitate repairs.

I know you see where I'm going with this--the water softener has been leaking like crazy and forming big puddles all over the drainless laundry room floor. Unfortunately, our home warranty doesn't cover water softeners, but I think we can fix it ourselves if we get the right part. However, the plumbing supply company referred to me by the water softener people as their distributor has never heard of the brand, MacCLEAN. After running all over town, I finally just tried ordering the part directly from the manufacturer, so we'll see if it shows up.

When I finally got a plumber to come out and give me a bid on putting in a drain down there, he pulled up a few linoleum tiles and found what looks like a drain already in place, that was for some reason PLASTERED OVER in a previous remodeling effort. He recommends that we bang on the plaster with a hammer, pull it out, and see what is underneath. If it's a pipe, we are in business. If not, we have just destroyed our floor AND have to pay to bore a hole for a drain into the giant cast-iron pipe in the corner of the laundry room.

The saddest part of all of this is that we can't buy a fabulous new front-loader washer and dryer until the drain situation is resolved. I was hoping the days of doing laundry at Mom and Dad's house were past.


I want to make these super cute (and easy looking) Halloween lanterns. Maybe on a string of white Christmas lights?

Thank goodness someone saved Bush's notes from the debate, so that we could all laugh before we think about it too hard and start to cry.

For the next entry in the laundry room saga, click here.

Sarah: I'll never tell...

It's crazy to think that this week was midterms. I still feel like I just barely got to school. My mind has been filled with thoughts of craftiness. I've been working on a table that I bought from Deseret Industries for $5, painting and mosaic-ing and the like. Pictures will appear as soon as I get around to stealing my roommate's digital camera. I'm also making Christmas gifts this year. I have a couple different projects, and I'm SO EXCITED! I can't say what they are, since Lisa, if no one else, would find out what they were getting. Some hints are that the gifts involve the fabric store, I've stolen my mom's sewing machine, and I will have to find an iron and ironing board from somewhere to complete them. They're also gender specific. That is to say, the girls will recieve something different from what I will be giving the boys. Wish I could tell you more! I know this seems early, but it takes a long time to make gifts! Cut me some slack! To those critics out there, worried that they will be recieving "Quaker presents," you couldn't be more wrong. These gifts are hip! and original! and made with love! and hip!! I promise they'll be good. Right after Christmas, I'll have pictures and details for the website. So, I guess this post is mostly to say "Even though I'm not actually telling you anything, there are cohesive thoughts going on in my brain... Maybe." Get excited, family and friends.

As an added bonus, I have links today also:
While searching the internet for crafty gifty supplies, I came across this rad site. I especially like the flower.

Mighty Girl, who is one of my favorite bloggers (see my favorite sites), has started a shopping site. Very nice. Thanks Margaret!

October 19, 2004

Lisa: Lost

Blake and I finally watched the series premiere of Lost, which our Tivo recorded for us before we moved. During the credits sequence, I pointed out to Blake that the show was made by J. J. Abrams, who was/is responsible for Felicity and Alias. Abrams et al seem to share a lot of actors between shows, so we weren't surprised to spot Kendall (cryptically smiling with an orange peel in his mouth). Blake lamented the fact that Agent Sean seemed to be missing from the cast, and we both took a moment to mourn this omission. The concept of the show (plane crash survivors trapped on an island) seemed to eliminate the possibility of any guest stars, too. Fortunately for us (but unfortunately for his character), Agent Sean DID show up for his triple-threat after all, in a cameo as the doomed airplane pilot. Anyway, the show was pretty dang good, the guy from Party of Five looked hot, and the Greg Grunberg cameo took it over the top. Lost, welcome to the Season Pass Manager.

October 21, 2004

Lisa: Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobe, you're my only hope!

Aaack! I seem to be having a problem that I am hoping someone out there in Internet-land can help me with. I used to have access to Photoshop at my old job, and I have been waiting to process and post a bunch of pictures from my digital camera until I got the Adobe Creative Suite installed on my Powerbook. I finally got the Creative Suite (which includes Photoshop) installed, and yesterday I edited the images that I wanted to post today. I put the images from my Mac onto a USB key (thumb drive, flash drive, whatever) and brought them to work with me today. When I tried to open, preview, and upload the files from my new work computer (a PC), I ran into some problems. The pictures are all pixelated across the bottom in the previews, and Movable Type won't upload them--it just gives me an error message complaining about "premature end of jpeg file." Not only that, but the USB key seems to contain duplicates of every file, with a period and space in front of the duplicate file names. I can't open the duplicate files at all. Is this a Mac/PC compatibility issue? Because one of the main reasons that I got the USB key in the first place was to simplify file sharing between the two computers. Help!!!

Edited to add...the problem was that I pulled the USB key out of the laptop without dragging it to the trash. Everything is fine now, and I panicked for nothing.

Also, what should I be for Halloween? I still like the Leia idea, but I fear it is too close to Halloween to get a decent Leia costume together.

Lisa: Home Sweet Home

Well, I don't know if the problem is fixed or not, but I got one of the pictures to work. Here's our beautiful house! (Click on the picture for a bigger view.)

Edited to add another picture:

October 23, 2004

Lisa: Stare into the TV screen and count to 10

I unexpectedly found some political commentary in my Gilmore Girls recap:

How are there undecided voters? Why is this such a close race? How? I don't understand. How can anybody be happy with the way things are going now, how we're viewed in the world and what is happening to the majority of Americans, from their take-home pay to the troops at war, to the price of health care. How can anybody think that we need another four years of this to see where it's all going to pan out? How can that be a solution? It's like staying with a husband who beats you, because he tells you how much he loves you and it's for your own good, because if you just listened to him and did what he said, he wouldn't have to beat you so hard (notice how he didn't say he'd stop beating you?). Oh, and that husband hates your gay friends. Thinks they're evil to the core. And he kind of hates your black friends, too. He does like your Hispanic friends; they do great work around his house. He wants them to go back to Mexico when they're done cleaning up, though. Don't want them getting comfortable with our way of life.

Thank you, Pamie. If we do end up with W again, I am hoping that the announcement of the election results coincides with the release of Gilmore Girls Season 2 on DVD, so that I can lock myself in my house with lots of ice cream, ignore all outside news and current media, possibly hum some girly tunes to ward off rage blackouts, and immerse myself in the show.

October 29, 2004

Guest Blogger: David Anderson


It was Halloween, 1995. I was fourteen years old, and was about two weeks away from falling deeply in love with Gwen Stefani. That afternoon, however, I was primarily concerned with the skit that I, as a member of the Academic Team, had to present to the panel of judges at the meet against Evergreen Junior High.

It became apparent during our brainstorming session that there was a problem with my voice. A day earlier, it had been high and clear, and I had been able to speak with supreme confidence. And, to the annoyance of my teachers, I had done so at every opportunity, being something of a blabbermouth. In a matter of twenty-four hours, however, my voice had changed, now coming out in an intermittent, nasal squawk.

During the discussion with my four teammates I attempted to disguise the fact by keeping quiet and making exaggerated facial expressions and hand gestures. This worked for about fifteen seconds, after which Annie, whom I was convinced I would someday marry, said "Why aren't you saying anything? What's wrong?"

When your voice changes suddenly overnight, it takes time before you fully gain control over it. I did my best to answer, but my response came out so cracked and strained that I only elicited horrified stares. My face burning with shame, I finally managed to gasp out something about having lost my voice.

Being creative individuals, we managed to plan a skit in which I didn't have any lines. I remember standing at the side, wearing a large blue piece of construction paper with the words "Potable Water" written on it in black magic marker, while my teammates explained their bold new plans for improving water conservation. I felt relieved, more than anything--grateful that I didn't have to hear the sound of my own voice.