Happy Valentines Day!

In my 30 years of life I've had good Valentine days.  I've had bad ones too.  Story time!

Here is a bad Valentines Day:

It was either 2004 or 2005.  The kid I'd been kind of dating hadn't called for a week.  February 14th rolled around.  I was alone.  I was lonely.  I tried to make my self feel better by going running.  I did my 5 mile usual run.   Just as the sun was setting over the mountains I crested the top of a hill (by the Utah state capital.) It was a warm day.  The sky was amazing shades of pink and red.  Everything was so romantic including the couple I saw up ahead.  He was tall dark and handsome.  She had cascades of sleeping beauty hair reaching half way down her back.  They were strait out of a Vogue photo shoot.  

I was about 20 feet away when I saw the man go down on one knee and reach for his pocket.  Uh-Oh!  The girl started tearing up.  It was pretty obvious what was happening.  Uh-oh, Uh-oh. UH-OH!  Just picture it: setting sun, the man/woman you love, valentines day, silhouette of the capital in the back ground etc.  It was a perfect moment to get engaged.  Except for me.....the random jogger ruining the moment.  

I promise I would have run a different direction, but there was. nowhere. else. to. go.  They glanced at me and then quickly away.  I looked strait ahead and sprint past them as fast as I could, but I've never been a sprinter.  Two eternal minutes later I rounded a corner and finally gave them some privacy.  Then I realized I was crying.  Yep, that was a bad Valentines Day.  

Here is a good Valentines Day:  

It was 2007.  Spencer and I were dating but not engaged.  We were saying "I love you."  All signs pointed to marriage.  I was crazy about him and he me.  We simply could not get enough of each other.  Valentines morning he snuck into my room before my alarm went off and woke me up.  He brought me lots of red presents including a red toothbrush, a red Prada purse, a red balloon and a red candy bar.  

His "outfit" was the best part.  He'd made a shirt with my picture on it and had the caption below it:  "Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like mine?"  For those of you who don't know this "quote" was a twist on a popular rock song from the time.   We had breakfast together.  I went off to teach school and he went off to work.  Later that night he picked me up and took me ice skating and then to Market Street Grill.  A few months later we got engaged.  

As for this year's valentines day...  

Today was just a normal day.  We didn't do anything fancy. We just bought a new (to us) car.  We paid cash so now we are feeling rather poor.  I made dinner while Spencer studied for a test.  It was a wonderful valentines day in a boring sort of way.  Despite the sad valentine day I described earlier where I ended up ruining someones engagement and crying, I've always liked this holiday celebrating love.   Valentines doesn't necessarily mean romantic.  We have all kinds of relationships with people we love.    

Happy Valentines Day to all lovers, friends, daughters, sons, grandchildren, grand parents, nieces, nephews, etc. etc. etc.   I hope you all have lots of people to love.  

The best part about having married an elder from your mission is:

When you go to mission reunions, you don't have to talk to each other. 




You stand on opposite sides of the room chatting with old companions.
You sense him saying: "That is my wife over there, the former Sister  _______."
You wave and smile.
All other spouse looks tired-out from entertaining children at a boring adult function
But your reunion is perfect.  Perfect.

What is even better than marrying an elder from your mission?!?

Answering the question "So um...how did you guys meet?"

My favorite answer is:  He was like my zone leader.  We had this really hot affair and then we like got married when our plane did a layover in Vegas on the way home. It was way romantic and totally spiritual."

People just blink.  blink. double blink.

Sigh.

So then I say:  We had mutual friends who introduced us and we got married seven years later.  We supposedly met once, I don't remember meeting him but he remembers meeting me.  The End.  (If you really want more details click here.)

We had a mission reunion for all the Deutschland Mission Leipzig elders and sisters who served with President Moss.  It was fun to see everyone and their growing families.  It got me to thinking back 10 years ago when I was knocking doors in former East Germany.  My mission was hard.  I cried a lot at first. So often I felt like I was wasting my time.  I'm still trying to figure out how faith ties into peoples free agency...but at the same time I'm glad I served.  I learned to have more charity.  I saw people change. I made some of my best friends.  I experienced a new culture.  By the time I was ready to go home I didn't want to go.  I walked off the airplane and burst into tears.  Yep.  My family was a little taken back.  Oh well. 

Congratulations to everyone who survived a mission!

Friday night movies

After the Rachmaninoff concert I tonight I had a ton of adrenalin. It was 8:30. I was now where near tired. I bought ice cream and rented New Moon. I made Spencer watch it with me. (don’t judge) He made it through the first 20 minutes just snuggling with me on the couch. Then he said something about fixing his bike.  He graciously brought the bike into the living room to work on so that (like I insisted) we could still be “together.”

My favorite part about watching New Moon was Spencer’s constant color commentary. Here are some of this best one liners.

“So is this like Werewolf Puberty?”

“Umm…sorry….responding (to that question Jacob vs. Edward) would imply that I have some kind of emotional attachment to this movie.”

“Who is Alice again?” (twice)


“Oh yeah, this is the part I was waiting for! When he jumps out!”

“Didn’t the other guy just break up with her? This is becoming a theme”

“That is a surprisingly decent CG animal.”

“No……..Bella…..Noooooooooooooooooooooooo!”

Yep. this is what happens when you are married. You rent chick flicks which your husband that he may or may not watch with you (He made it through most of North & South but not Anne of Green Gables.) He had to prove he’s a man.  I made him suffer.  But in my defense I did recently sit through Swordfish (with Spencer editing.)

Ahhh The entertainment we endure for love.


P.S. The movie New Moon was much better than the book New Moon. Discus!

Not a Carrier!

If you have missed all the drama on my blog about me being a CF (Cystic Fibrosis) carrier then you get to catch the happy ending of what could have been a very different story. Here is the boy version (short): I have a cousin with CF. My sister is a positive CF carrier meaning I was 50% likely to be a carrier as well. I had the genetic testing done and turns out I landed on the unlucky side of 50%. I was a carrier. Spencer went back and was tested. He is not a carrier! Hurray! We are elated and very happy that although our children also have a 50% chance of being carriers of the CF gene, none of them will ever have CF. If that wasn’t enough detail keep reading for the girl version with lots of details and an emphasis on feelings, experiences and future plans.

The girl version: Hurray and Hallelujah! We feel blessed that we are not both carriers of CF. It is a huge weight off of our shoulders and we are blessed. As we share our story with our friends and families members I am so shocked to hear people say they are against genetic testing. Really People? Really? Against genetic testing? The thought to be against genetic testing never once crossed my mind. I found out that my sister was a CF carrier about five years before I got married. She was a carrier so I might be too. At the time it didn’t really affect my life. But I was worried for my sister and her husband. He had had 3 siblings die of CF so they were pretty sure he was a carrier. Triple Hallelujah that he wasn’t! At that time I really didn’t think of CF as influencing my life. It was something my married sister had to deal with. I wasn’t having sex (NOTE: I’m a practicing Mormon and didn’t have sex till my wedding night when I was 28 years old. If you are Mormon you aren’t at all shocked by this. Mormons know plenty of pretty 28 year old virgins. If you aren’t Mormon and just blog stalking me then yes, be shocked.) so there wasn’t any chance under the sun that I’d get pregnant with a baby, let alone a CF baby.

When Spencer and I had been married a few years we started thinking about having children someday. After all, we were in our early 30’s and far behind everyone in my graduating high school class that already had 4 kids by 25. (ANOTHER NOTE: I’m glad that wasn’t my life.) I knew we needed to face the possibility of having a CF baby. I told my doctor I wanted a CF carrier test. I know people have strong opinions about Genetic testing. I’m not saying that every one needs to do it but if you have cases in your family of genetic diseases particularly CF (which is high in Utah) then you should get tested. I knew that if we were going to be parents of a CF baby we would need to prepare our selves mentally and also financially. We would need good insurance. I would need to stay home full-time. We would need to learn a lot about CF and how to provide proper care. Abortion of in utero testing with risk to the baby is absolutely out of the question for us. But I did want to know what our future could be like. So in conclusion I am very grateful not to both be CF carriers. I really don’t know what we would have done had we both been positive. I suppose now I’ll never know. Which is just fine. We feel very blessed.

It is HARD living with some one who hates you ...or.... how we got our first pet.

Who hates me?  I'll tell you...

 Nope not this guy.  This guy loves me. (Thank my lucky stars!)

Petie the family Bird does not love me.
He tolerates me.
He  respects my position as 'mate of the Alfa male'.
But he does not love me.
He loves Spencer. 

 Petie has mastered the art of looking innocent. 

Petie loves Spencer.  I could take it personally but I don't. (most of the time) I love when he shows his pretty wings. Spencer rescued Pete two years ago.  I was in Europe when all this happened.

Spencer saw a bird on the roof of a warehouse near his work.  He thought Petie was a pigeon at first but then saw his pretty colored face.  He climbed up on the roof and luckily Petie - worn out from being on the run - didn't try to fly away.  Spencer stuck him in a box and kept him in his office for a week.  Petie flew around pooping an anything he wanted during that week and took a real liking to Spencer's brother Eric.

Meanwhile Spencer was worried that some family was missing their pet Cockatiel so he made "Found Bird" posters and posted them all over.  Lots of people called wanting Petie for free but none knew Petie.  I joked from Europe that Spencer missed me so much he replaced me with a bird!

We ended up keeping Petie.  For the last two years we have been sharing our lives and occasionally our bed with Petie.  Like I said he LOVES Spencer and tolerates me.

 How do I know he doesn't love me?  I'll tell you.  When I try to pet him he does this: 

Here are some facts about Petie:

Likes:

• Sitting on Spencer's sholder
• Whisteling to himself in the mirror (cute wolf whistle)
• Sitting at the window looking out over the city
• Whole Wheat Crackers
• Lettice, Jalapenios and cucumbers
• Spencer's brother Eric

Dislikes:

• Joanie trying to pet him
• Anything that remotely looks like a snake (i.e.bike tires)
• Running water
• Feather dusters (he FLIPPED out)
• night time after 8:00 p.m. (he is an early bird)
• the kitchen mirror (crash zone)

We never would have gotten a pet.  But there is something very comforting in knowing that we saved this cute little bird from what was bound to be a tough life on the street.  Poor Petie has no streetcred.  It is fun having a little bird crawl all over you and fly from one person to the other.  I used to make fun of couples that had a pet and treated it like there baby.  Now since this blog post is the closest I've ever come to a mom-blog I"m guilty as charged.

Like Father....

Like Son!

I have the best boyfriend in the world

I have the best boyfriend in the world.  I really do.  He goes way out of his way to make sure that I am happy.  Here is the latest example of his great boyfriendness!

• Saturday night he was waiting for me at the airport when I flew in.   
• He had a cold beverage for me to enjoy on the way home.  (Cream soda)
• He also had a and a stick of kinder chocolate. (my fav!)
• He had the house spotless and clean sheets on the bed.
• He had rented a movie I'd been wanting to see.
• He is planning on cooking all day Sunday so I can relax after my long trip.

As if that wasn't enough I crawled out of bed early to do my favorite pre dawn Sunday morning ritual of emailing and reading blogs.  Pretty soon he crawled out after me and the contents for another wonderful German Breakfast started appearing on the coffee table.

I have the best boyfriend in the world.
And the best part is...he is also my husband. 
The best part of being apart is the sweet reunion. 

CF

In a few hours my sweet husband will wake up and we will go to my doctors appointment together and find out information that could affect the rest of our lives.  I couldn't sleep.   I tossed and turned all night thinking about my doctor and choir tour and all the work I've got to do.  Not even yesterday's yoga could drive my ToDo list from my brain.  Sitting on my love seat looking in the gloaming and watching the falling snow seemed a much better alternative to tossing in bed.

My little sister is a CF carrier.  So is her little son.  If you are white and of northern European you may be too.   In fact you have an approximate 1 in 13 chance of being a carrier.  This is pretty high making CF a very common fatal disease.  Cystic fibrosis also known as CF is a is a hereditary disease which affects the entire body, causing progressive disability and often, early death.  Both parents have to be carriers in order to have children with CF.  Because my sister is a CF carrier I have a 50% chance of also carrying the genetic mutation as do all my 6 siblings. 

I am going to get tested to day to see if I carry the CF mutation.  If I am a carrier we will have Spencer tested as well.  I  want to have children someday.  I would never abort a CF baby as many people do, but if CF is in my future I need to plan my life accordingly.  I have to think about insurance and facilities.  On the upside if I am a CF carrier I am immune to cholera.  This is why the disease has survived so many generations. 

Life is so tricky isn't it.

Our worst nightmares

This week was a rough night for sleep in our household. We both had disturbing nightmares.

Mine was:

I was teaching my class (I'm not sure if it was choir or German)when two students walked up and hit me across the face, hard across the face. I ran out crying and kept running down the hall to the administrative offices. Tears streaming down my cheeks I found a director and said "Two students just hit me on the face during class!" THEN as if getting hit in class were not the most terrifying thing, what happened next was: The director said "Well, what did you do to them to make them hit you?" Yeah. Thanks for your unwavering support.

Spencer's nightmare was:

That he was married to someone else (so cute no?) He soon realized that the person he married was not his best friend. So he tried to remember who his best friend was and he thought "Joanie is my best friend! Why I didn't I marry Joanie?" Then he woke up.


But thank goodness these were just night mares. No students have hit me in class, and Spencer managed to marry his best friend: ME! Our lives are pretty good.

Double standards in my marriage.

Double Standard: It is okay for me to travel to conferences and go to Europe with a girlfriend for weeks on end. But I do not like it when my husband leaves.

I'm a pretty lucky girl as far as marriage goes. I would never have guessed that anything as crazy as my single years would end so well. THAT was a scary time of life! I barley made it out alive and fully intact. My exit from the single world to the married world was as smooth and seamless as my single life was not. Thanks to all friends who stood by me during those crazy days. Thanks to all ex-boyfriends who didn't marry me you were right it wouldn't have worked.

Married life with Spencer is well....Great. just great. We don't fight. I"m crazy about him. But I realize the scales are tipped in my favor. Spencer bends over backwards to make me happy. I try to do the same but I think he bends more.

I realized this last night as I slept alone. Yes alone. Spencer was up backpacking with his BFF in the mountains and I stayed home to give them some alone boy time to sing Kum ba ya and boy bonding. (I learned this morning that no singing took place)

In our two years of marriage this is the first time he has left me. Not the first time we've slept apart I can't even count the times I have left him for conferences, sleepovers with my sisters, and then that trip to Germany/Greece last summer.

I was really happy for him to have some BFF time. I had dinner ready when they came home today but I know I would never want him to leave any longer than one night. But somehow in my mind it is okay for me to leave on adventures. Yep. Double standard.

"Nothing says marriage like a log and a saw"

That is what the German's think anyhow. At German weddings they have lots of classy traditions that differ from American weddings. My all time favorite German wedding tradition is the cars at weddings. Germans decorate the bride and grooms get away car with special flower bouquets that they adhere to the trunk and hood. So when you come out of the chapel your car awaits you all covered with flowers. Contrast this with the tacky American tradition of cans/condoms/shaving cream/shoe polish written JUST MARRIED. Yeah. The Germans have it figured out.

Admittedly Germans have much nicer cars as a whole. You could stick a thistle on a BMW and it would still look classier than a Chevrolet.
Unfortunately when I got married my family really dropped the ball on car flowers. I'm not complaining it really was almost the perfect wedding. We did do my other favorite German wedding tradition. That involves a saw and a log.

According to German tradition -and please all my German readers correct me if I am wrong- Right after the wedding (or in our case at the reception) the new couple saws a log together. This symbolizes the new couple working together for the first time as Man and Wife. I love the symbolism. It teaches the young couple that marriage is work and a good marriage is working together.

Last Saturday my dear friend Whitney tied the knot. Whitney and I met last summer during the program (MUTPED) I did in Leipzig. I instantly liked her! Not only did she speak fabulous German, she was hilarious, down to earth and LDS to boot! We palled around the whole summer and all kinds of adventures including the time Whitney dressed up like J.S.Bach.

How Whitney met Dave:

After the summer Whit when home to finish her Ph.D. at some university in the mid-west that I can never remember. She swoar up and down that their was NO ONE TO DATE. But as fate would have it a handsome grad student moved into her ward while she was in Germany. She came home, they started dating and the rest is history.

Her reception was Saturday at the Lion House and my job was to bring the log! Let me tell you that caring a very dangerous look saw through Temple Square will earn you a few suspicious looks from the security guards. Luckily we were escorted through the massive tunnel system under Temple Square into the safety of the Lion House court yard. The workers at the wedding said that no one had ever brought saw horses, a log and a saw to a wedding before.
Whitney and Dave did a great job sawing the log. Which means they will have a great working marriage! As Dave posed for pictures he said "Nothing says marriage like a log and a saw." Thati s unless you are German.

Congratulations Whitney and Dave! Marriage is the best! Especially if you work together.

The Rest of the Story. The rest of 10 stories.

The rest of the story. The blog where I tie up all the loose ends I've mentioned in previous blogging.

1. Do you notice and patterns in our classroom? - The rest of the Story
Referencing the time I created a seating chart for my high School German students based on their hair color. THE DAY after I posted the blog a kid in my last German class said "Hey have you ever noticed that all of the blond kids sit on that side?" which made me think he read my blog...which scared me slightly. Just kidding. They all thought it was a GREAT April Fools joke and I changed the seating assignment the next day.

2. My Long Lost Twin - The rest of the story:
For the record I don't think I look like Sherry Renee Scott or Candice Bergman. But I'm flattered really, they are beautiful women. The old lady in German who is still in love from Young Spencer on his mission (she sends him annual birthday/Christmas/Easter/Boxing Day gifts) told him when she called one morning (5:00 a.m.) that I look like Heidi Klum. I SO WISH but really I have yet to find my twin.

3. New Years Resolutions - The rest of the story:
I kept my fingernails painted for 3 months. I even painted them black which I told Spencer was trandy and he kept calling me gothic so that hasn't happened again. Then the painting got old. I tracked 30 hours of practicing the piano. Then I realized I hate practicing. Loosing weight...some days up. some down.

4. My Husband Drilled a Hole in my Finger - The rest of the story:
CAUTION: This post is rated PG-13 for graphic images and blood.
Last August I slammed my finger in my trunk. After 3 days of AGONY! Spencer DRILLED A HOLE IN MY FINGER to relieve the pressure. Eight months later the nail is almost grown back. But not quite.

5. Greece - The rest of the story:
I think the guy in Crete I gave my blog address to is still a faith full reader. He was cute in a I still live with my mother Greece boy kind of way. I still think Santorini is one of the planets most magical places.

6. My Husband's Internet relationship - The rest of the story.
One of my most clever posts. To fill you in: He is STILL obsessed. OBSESSED. with his bike. He walks into the bike's bedroom to say goodnight to it every night hanging on the wall. Recently Spencer upgraded his mistresses. His new bike-mistress has a larger frame and slightly different coloring. Same make and model though. Can't fault a good thing.

7. The Gang - The rest of the story.
I took creative license with this post and made it out like we were mobsters. NO ONE believed me obviously. It was just a get together of bunches of mission friends. Pictures of this year and last. Last year was slightly different because neither Megan nor Traci had yet produced offspring. Everything changes in 9 months.

8. June 30, 2007 - The Rest of the story.
This post was the one where I gush about my wedding. I still look back and think. "What a perfect day!" we are still really happy.

9. My top 5 mistakes as a teacher - The Rest of the Story
I love my job and I'm very passionate about teaching. but I do make some mistakes. My most hilarious ones are listed here. I have one to add to my next list you can read it here.

10. Here I come - The Rest of the story
This was my very first blog post ever. I've now posted over __times. I can't believe how much I love blogging. I started as a more interesting way to keep a journal and a way to improve my writing. Both have improved and it has been a fun hobby.

I come home to find my husband in bed with another male

Rehearsal got out early. I was thanking my lucky stars that I might actually get to bed before midnight as I walked up the stairs to get to our apartment. I open the front door and listened. Silence. No lights. Wait....is that music coming from the bed room? Excitedly I moved toward the bedroom and pushed the door open.

Sprawled out on the bed was my husband. He looked quite content and why not? On top of him was the male referenced in the title. I shouldn't say sprawled...perched is more like it. They lay their so innocent so peaceful, both enjoying each others company. So unaware that all would come to an unpleasant end as the wife opened the door.

"SPENCER".......I shrieked "What is that $@*&4# BIRD doing in our BED!" Spencer had no response. He sheepishly picked up and left the room holding the corners of his shirt in an admirable but inadequate attempt not to spill the cracker crumbs that he had been feeding to the bird out of his shirt.

The bird exited the room with the love of his life, my husband. I stood alone looking down at the bed. Crumbs were everywhere! On top of the sheets, under the sheet, on the floor by the bed, everywhere! I pulled back the for display only pillows and right across one was a big bird poop.

Now this was not the first time. I'd found crumbs in the sheets the week before and consequently spend the entire day saturday doing laundry including all the bed washings. I hadn't exactly demanded that Spencer not feed the bird in bed but I'd had very obvious conversation about how sleeping on crumbs didn't exactly make for sweet dreams or romantic moods.

Less than 3 days later we were back to crumbs and even worse poop. I stormed into the bird's room ready to list all the reasons I had to be annoyed. But spencer's look stoped me in my trakcs. He looked at me with repentant eyes and gave me a signature sweet smile. I melted. I can't stay mad. I wish I could stay mad! Sometime I really want to be the kind of person to hold grudges but I just forget. Five minutes after I get mad everything is water under the bridge. As if the smile wasn't enough to temper my spirits Pete the pet bird who was still perched on Spencer's sholder chirped in too. He sang me his signature"wolf wisthels" that Spencer taught him last summer. Okay cute husband. Cute bird. Washable sheets. Life really isn't so bad. If you want to read the exciting story about how Pete came to be a part of our marriage click here.

Boy Meets Girl...

My twenties were tumultuous lots of ups and downs lots of firsts, lots of LASTS! A few scoundrels a few worth while. A few careers. By far the best thing I did in the last years of my twenties was marry my handsome husband. He makes me so happy. December 30, 2008 was our Year and a half anniversary. It was a big one for us since we were apart for our first anniversary. He was stuck home working in SLC so that I could play in Greece all summer. What a great guy!

Like every other bride I've got a ton of wedding pictures. But these snapshots taken in the line I feel really represent how happy I was on that day. They are so casual but I love how the photographer captured the way we were looking at each other.



I realize that the goal of wedding days is to look like a fashion model all day. (is that the goal? Or is it to show commitment so someone you love?) anyhow I've got the fashion model part all wrong but I love this picture. Looking into the mirror is my slightly scary German father in law Heinz.

The best part of marriage is that it keeps getting better and better.

I love you Spencer! I'm so lucky to be married to you! Happy 1 1/2 years! We really should eat the cake we have in the freezer. I don't think it is going to last another 6 months.

Mornings at our house.

I'm usually up and out the door right as Spencer rolls over and switches his radio to the herd. So I usually miss the beautiful sight of him head to toe in spandex. Fortunately I have the next few days off so I've been getting up a little later. This morning I got back from running and low and behold look what was standing in the living room:



It was a beautiful sight to see.

The really mushy blog entry where I gush about how much I love my Husband

I can't sleep. Spencer is fast asleep in our bed. I WANT to be asleep next to him. I snuggled up to him hoping his rhythmic breathing would lull me to sleep. It didn't work. My mind and body are totally active right now. Yet as I lay listening to Spencer breath I was overcome by how much I love him! I thought writing was a better alternative than lying in the dark, listening to him breath and risk waking him.

I love Spencer. I can't believe how much I love Spencer. I didn't think it was possible to love someone so much. I love my parents and my family very much but the feelings I have for my husband eclipse any previous love I had for everyone else. He is the most important thing in my life. I try so hard to make his life better. Loving him is the strongest emotion I've ever felt. It has changed me for the better.

I've known Spencer for years now and in a wide spectrum of situations. Sometimes when I think back on past memories of him I superimpose my current feelings of love on my previous self. Its like his influence on my present and future is so comforting that I wish desperately it were possible to extend his presence backward into my past too. As if their were some kind of magical way to recreate old memories using current emotion and wisdom. I guess what I really wish is that I could go back to my past self and slap myself hard or somehow convince my younger naive self to fall in love with Spencer 4 years sooner. I could have avoided so much pain in my life. Sigh. Sometimes when I'm talking to Spencer I think back to past situations where we did some kind of activity usually hiking or haning out with mission friends. I ask him "Did you love me then too>" he always says yes. sigh. He realized that we were a match way before I caught on.

Mostly I'm just blissfully happy to be married to Spencer and share his life with him. Getting and being married to Spencer has been the best part of my entire life. I remember being engaged and wanting to spend every waking and sleeping moment next to each other. I remember feeling that while we were engaged we just couldn't get close enough both mentally or physically. I remember the first few hours after the wedding. I really did feel like we were joined together forever. We couldn't stop smiling. We couldn't stop jumping up and down. It was wonderful.

Now a year later we are even better. I love Spencer even more than I did on our Wedding day. My Grandfather told me that the longer you are married the more you love each other. He also said that the 64th year of Marriage is the best. Even hearing that it happened I couldn't have prepared myself for the way love increases exponentially as time goes on. Spencer is my best friend. I am better for knowing him and even better for loving him. I am the luckiest girl in the world to be married to him.

I know it wont always be easy. Marriage requires consistent consensus from two very individual perspectives. I am comforted that we are building the right tools to weather any storms that may arise. I expect that each year will get better. If we make it to the 64th year of marriage we will be 92 years old. If I am still blogging then I will let you know if my Grandfather was right and that 64th really is the best.

Home Sweet Home

I'm happy to say that I'm finally hone to my sweet husband in beautiful Salt Lake City. I can't even express how happy I was to see Spencer standing at the airport with a pink welcome home Joanie sign and flowers. We hugged and hugged and could not stop smiling. Once again I am so happy to be married to such a wonderful man. I'll post about my trip soon!

My Cinderella story

Once upon time in a land far away land called Salt Lake City their lived a girl. The girl was married and born of goodly parents. However she was a poor poor new school teacher and slaved away teaching high school 50 to 60 hours a week. The girl was NOT a fan of shopping. She liked clothes she just didn't like searching for them. This girl's ideal shopping experience would be to casually observe what everyone around you was wearing and then offer to buy what you liked right off of their bodies. This would eliminate both the searching for clothes and the trying them on part of shopping. However this method wasn't very socially acceptable it only worked in theory...like communism.

One day the their was an official ball at the school where the teacher worked. Yes they even called it a ball. All the other princesses (teacher) of all the other kingdoms (subjects) were to attend.

Unfortunately the teacher had nothing to wear. Fearing she would be left behind and forced to stay home with her husband watching the NBA, the teacher ran to the cemetery and cried at at a grave site. The birds in the tree by the grave answered her cry and swarmed upon her blocking out the sun as they picked all the lint off her tattered dress. Nearby in a house her step sisters were having thier feet mudilated and blood was filling the slipper.....oh wait....this story isn't that dramatic!


Back to the modern version: One day the girl was teaching choir. Her students commented on her cloths and that she always wore the same thing. She explained her low tolerance for shopping and her lack of skill. The students took pity on her and decided what she needed was a fairy god mother. Luckily one of their mothers moonlighted as a fairy god mother on the weekends and was eager to help. The fairy god mother also owned a great little boutique in the River woods Mall in Provo/Orem or Utah area called Kaleidoscope. Over the next few months The Fairy God Mother provided all kinds of wonderful dresses and shoes for the poor teacher.


You can see a few of them here like the ribbon lady 100% silk dress.
or the blue polka dot one that is so flattering on! Not only did this Fairy God Mother provide dresses but she had adorable to die for shoes fit for a princess! (or a choir teacher)

One day the the teacher had to chaperon the prom (feast and ball). She thought she might have to actually go out and buy a dress but then she remembered the generosity of the fairy god mother and her kind gift of a long black Katherine Hepburn style dress that would work perfectly for the event. The poor teacher wore it to the prom and felt like a million dollars. Her handsome agreed to come and be prince charming for the night.

And they both lived happily ever after. The princess/teacher never gained an ounce of fat so that her dresses would fit her the rest of her life. And the groom bought a new suit that actually matched her black party dress.

The End.

Wife vs. Husband

My husband (albeit wonderful) is the most competitive man on the planet. Everything for him is a competition. He thrives on competition. He lives, breaths, and dreams competition. Me on the other hand I'm not necessarily uncompetitive but for me winning is second to having fun and for him the one can not exist with out the other.

For example the other day Spencer was all spandexed out (oh baby!) and racing home on his bike when he met a competitor. He claims the man began racing and even cheated as in rode through red lights to keep up with him. Luckily his other love and his awesome caves helped him win the race. You can read his side of the story here.

Another race is on! One that Spencer has been playing since he was 5 and me since I was 9. Yes long before we met we were competing against each other for first place. He got an earlier start but to no avail. I'm winning this competition by a long shot. Are you curious? Are you still reading? Are you hoping that the game is strip poker and that this blog takes a different turn? (not likely as I teach high school and I'm always afraid that some of my students read my blog.)

This competition is for most countries visited. I've got 20 under my belt (21 after Greece) and he only has 16. It kills him. He mentions it every few days. I don't think he had ever met a girl more traveled that he had was until he met me.

Now I only mention this because I'm leaving for the summer and I'm going to visit yet another country Greece where Spencer has never been. Consiquently Spencer keeps talking about renting a car while I'm gone and driving down to central America to add all the countries between here and Panama.

I've reminded him that this is not a good idea for several reasons:

a. He only knows one phrase in Spanish: "Que lastima venga venga chica" which means either watch out girl or that what a pity come on girl (both VERY loosely translated.)
b. He looks like a white boy from Utah
c. and most importantly he doesn't have his wife's permission to leave the country

My point is if I or any of you get a ransom note from the Nicaraguan mafia we will know two things:

1. His one line of Spanish couldn't save him (surprise, surprise)
2. He succeeded in driving through Belize, Guatamala, Honduras, Elsalvator and we now are tied for countries.

______my list______________his list______________

	1 Austria 1 Austria 2 Belgium 2 Belgium 3 Check Republic 3 Canada 4 Denmark 5 Check Republic 5 England 6 England 6 France 7 France 7 Germany 8 Germany 8 Greece (pending) 9 Ireland 9 Hungary 10 Italy 10 Israel 11 Lichtenstein 11 Italy 12 Luxemburg 12 Lichtenstein 13 Netherlands 13 Luxemburg 14 Poland 14 Mexico 15 Spain 15 Netherlands 16 Switzerland 16 Poland 17 Slovenia 18 Spain 19 Sweden 20 Switzerland 21 Turkey
	Red color indicates countries only one of us has visited.

The Beard

Spencer's been growing a beard for a few weeks now and I LOVE LOVE LOVE IT! I have been meaning to blog about it for a while now and I'm finally getting around to it. I have to give most of the inspirational credit for interview style to my friend Jaz and creator of one of my favorite blogs American Dresdner. Apparently her husband has also been growing out the fur and she did the cutest interview with him about it. It inspired me to do my own.
The interview:
Riddle: How long has it been since you've shaved?
Bearded one: Longer than I'd like to remember.
Riddle: How often does the urge come to grab your raiser?
Bearded one: 4 or 5 times a day.
Riddle: This is the longest time you have ever gone since you shaved correct?
Bearded one: Yeah
Riddle: Do you think you would ever do it again?
Bearded one: Well I am married to Joan (me, the author)
Riddle: How much money would it take if someone wanted you to keep wearing the beard?
Bearded one: For how long?
Riddle: Let's say till I leave for Germany this summer.
Bearded one: $200
Riddle: So would you say that your beard is purely a token of love for the writer of this blog?
Bearded one: Yes

Riddle: Do you feel you are treated differently with a beard then without?
Bearded one: By some people yes.
Riddle: Can you name some examples?
Bearded one: People down at work. My family. They touch my face more. It annoys me.
Riddle: Is it negative?
Bearded one: somewhat. Looks. Comments. Touching. (acts akward)
Riddle: Do you identify more with bearded men now that you have a beard?
Bearded one: Yes.
Riddle: Who for example?
Bearded one. Just bearded men in general.
Riddle: Do you feel that having a beard makes you more masculine in a lumber jack sort of way?
Bearded one: Yes, it just looks more masculine.
Riddle: Can you tell that your wife/author of this blog is very attracted to you with the beard?
Bearded one: Oh yes very much so.

Riddle: If you could change one thing about your beard (excluding shaving it) what would it be?
Bearded one: Trimming it so it doesn't get in my nose or mouth.
Riddle: Why did you grow a beard in the first place.
Bearded one: Because you wanted me too.
Riddle: We are still friends right?
Bearded one: laughs. "yeah"
Riddle: For the readers thinking of following suite and growing a beard can you tell us the pro's about having a beard?
Bearded one: Their are no pro's
Riddle: Come on, Spencer work with me!
Bearded one: Are you done asking me questions?
Riddle: Okay fine. Any last words.
Bearded one: No unless you want the con's.
Riddle: Okay fine!
Bearded one: It itches, it gets in my nose, I'll shave it and break out, and word of advice for all 3 of your blog readers. Don't try this at home. Okay see you I"m going to shave off my beard.

Taxes: One of life's certainties

I've always hated filling out forms. I do fine with forms that ask your name, address and astrological sign. I get really stressed out when they switch to numbers, percentages, grosses, subtract line F by line G multiplying it by the number of calories you ate yesterday and your license plate number. I start shutting down right after the bit about line F.

I find that taxes are the worst forms of all. In fact I imagine hell to be some kind of place where you continually have to file taxes the entire year not just at the eleventh hour on April 15th. Some people actually live in a world like that. They call themselves accountants.

Over the last year I've had a plethora of accountants. Most of these are friends and family members who owed me favors. But apparently I'm a tough case because a few of these people have sworn never to file for me again. I'm not even on speaking terms with one of my past accountants. Marshall my brother in law took pity on me one year after my father refused to do my taxes on April 14th. He was very helpful and did a fine job but I decided never to use him again. The mocking just got to be too much. What ever happened to Amnesty for life?

Luckily this year my sweet husband assured me that he had taxes all under control. He spread out all our W-2's on the kitchen table on April 15th about 6 p.m. as I was cooking dinner. Now he knows me really well and knows how easy it is to get a rise out of me. Here is what he did.

Spencer busily stooped over the papers suddenly grabs my W-2 and in a super stressed voice said "You've got to be kidding me...the recent return rate dividend allotment in percentages....bla bla bla ...Alaska .... doesn't add up"

"what?!? WHAT?!?!" I said all panicked that something was seriously wrong. "What can we doooooooooooooooooo?"

Then he gave me the cutest grin, and I knew I'd been had. Darn it! We both started laughing so hard that we started crying. 2 hours later we were happily finished. So in conclusion this was the least stressful year of taxes as it ended in laughter. But as far as laughing and taxes are concerned Uncle Sam paid us $$$ back this year meaning he was earning the interest and controlling investment power on OUR hard earned money the entire year. Somehow Uncle Sam always gets the last laugh.